景德傳燈錄 19.22

19.22

Chan Master Wenyan of Mount Yunmen in Shaozhou was a native of Jiaxing in Gusu, with the surname Zhang. He first trained under the Venerable Chen of Muzhou, clarifying the great import. Later he approached Xuefeng, further augmenting the dark essentials. Concealing his capacity, he mingled with the assembly, serving as the head seat in the dharma hall of Chan Master Min of Lingshu in Shaozhou. When Min was about to enter extinction, he left a letter to the Governor of Guang[zhou], requesting that [Wenyan] succeed him as abbot. The Master did not forget his roots, considering Xuefeng his teacher. On the day the hall was opened, the Governor arrived in person and said, "Your disciple requests instruction." The Master said, "Before your eyes there is no different path." (Fayan said as an alternative: "One must not fail to benefit people.")

The Master said: "Do not say I am deceiving you today; I simply cannot hold back. I have already told you that this place is a total mess. If a person with clear eyes happens to see it, they will call it a laughingstock. Now, one cannot avoid it either. Let me ask you all: from antiquity onwards, what matter is there? What is lacking? If I tell you there is nothing the matter, that is also deceiving you. You must actually reach this ground before you can know. Do not just chatter away asking questions at random with pitch darkness inside your own mind; in the days to come, there will be serious matters indeed. If your faculties are slow and hesitant, look toward the ancient masters' established teachings, looking east and west to see what principle this is! Do you wish to understand? It is entirely because your own delusive thoughts over immeasurable kalpas are dense and thick. The moment you hear someone mention it, doubt arises; you ask about buddhas and ask about patriarchs, seeking understanding above and below, getting further and further disconnected. Intentional thinking is already error, how much more so with words? Could it be that having no intentional thoughts is it? What else is there? Take care!"

The Master entered the hall and said: "Out of helplessness, I tell you all that directly here, there is nothing the matter—already this is burying you alive. If you all still intend to take a step forward, pursuing words and chasing phrases to seek understanding, devising thousands of distinctions and countless contrivances to set up interrogations, you merely gain a slippery tongue, getting farther from the Way. When will there be rest? If this matter lay in words, does the twelve-division canon of the three vehicles lack words? Why would one speak of a separate transmission outside the teachings? If it could be attained through learned understanding and intellectual cunning, why were the holy ones of the tenth stage, preaching the Dharma like clouds and rain, still rebuked because their seeing of nature was as if veiled by thin silk? From this we know that between all minds with conceptual intent and [the Way], heaven and earth are vastly separated. Although it is like this, if someone has attained it, they say fire cannot burn them; though they speak of things all day long, it has never brushed past their lips and teeth, nor have they ever uttered a single word; though they wear clothes and eat food all day long, they have never touched a single grain of rice or hung a single thread of thread. Although it is like this, this is still talk within the courtyard. One must truly attain it in this way before it counts. If judged by the standards of the patch-robed monk, revealing one's function within a phrase is a wasted effort of contemplation; even if one takes charge under a single phrase, one is still a sleepyhead."

The Master said: "The twelve-division canon of the three vehicles preaches across and preaches up; old monks throughout the land speak this way and that in every direction. Show me a principle spoken fine as the point of a needle! Speaking like this is trying to cure a dead horse. Although it is like this, just how many have reached this realm? I dare not expect you to have reverberation in your words, edges concealed within phrases, a thousand distinctions at a blink of the eye, or wind calmed and waves stilled. Humbly I offer this: take care!"

The Master entered the hall and said: "Brothers! You have all traveled in every quarter seeking spiritual friends to resolve life and death. Wherever you go, how could there be an absence of the compassionate, skillful words of venerable elders? Are there still phrases you cannot penetrate? Come forward and raise them! The old fellow will deliberate them together with you." At that time, a monk came forward, bowed, and was about to bring up a question, when the Master said: "Away, away! The road to the Western Heaven is more than a hundred thousand li distant!"

A monk asked: "What is the student assembly crowded together deliberating?" The Master said: "The assembly has stood for a long time." The Master said: "Raising a single phrase to have you take charge directly is already pissing on your head. Even if one twirls the tip of a fine hair and the entire great earth is simultaneously illuminated, it is still like gouging into healthy flesh to make a wound. Although it is like this, you must genuinely reach this ground before you can know. If you have not yet, you must never lay claim to empty space; instead, you must step back and investigate beneath your own heels to see what principle this is! Truly, not the slightest thread or hair is provided for you to form an understanding or entertain doubts. Each and every one of you has your own matter, its great function manifesting right before you, requiring not the slightest ounce of effort on your part; it is no different from the patriarchs and buddhas. It is just that your roots of faith are shallow, and your bad karma is dense, so that you suddenly sprout so many horns, shouldering your almsbowl and travel pack across thousands of villages and tens of thousands of miles, taking on grief. And what do you lack? For a great hero, who has no share? Even directly grasping it upon sight is still not getting it right; you must not suffer people's deceit or accept their orders. The moment you see an old monk move his mouth, you should immediately plug it with a rock; like blowflies over dung, you vie to snap it up, three or five putting their heads together in discussion. What bitter grief! Brothers, those ancients acted out of helplessness for your sakes; therefore, through skillful means, they let drop half a phrase to open an entry path for you. Put these matters aside, muster a bit of your own sinew and bone—would there not be a slight intimacy then? Be swift! Be swift! Time waits for no one; the out-breath does not guarantee the in-breath. What other idle use is there for mind and body? You must be attentive! Take care!"

The Master said: "Taking the entire cosmos all at once and putting it on your eyelashes—hearing this said, I dare not expect you to come forth fiercely and give this old fellow a slap; just look slowly and carefully: is it there or not? What kind of principle is it? Even if you illuminate it here, if you encounter the patch-robed monks' school, your two legs ought to be broken. If you are a real person, the moment you hear of some old master appearing in the world, you should spit right in his face, saying, 'You defile my ears and eyes!' If you lack such capability, the moment you hear someone cite something and take it upon yourself, you have already fallen into the secondary mode. Look: the moment Master Deshan saw a monk come up, he raised his staff to strike and drive him away; the moment Master Muzhou saw someone enter the door, he said, 'I'll spare you thirty blows for now,' or sometimes, 'It is an accomplished public case!' What should the rest of the lot do? If you are just ordinary pretenders, swallowing others' spittle and remembering a whole heap, toting a load of curiosities to show off everywhere, bragging with donkey lips and horse mouths, 'I know how to ask five or ten rounds of questions'—even if you ask from morning to night for kalpas, have you ever even dreamed of it? Where is there any real effort given to people? For people like this, when invited to a monk's vegetarian meal, they also say, 'I got some rice to eat.' Are they fit to speak with? On a future day before King Yama, he won't accept your clever explanations! Brothers, if one is a person who has attained, they stay among the assembly passing the days; if you have not attained, do not take it lightly or pass the time in vain. You must be extremely careful. The ancients had plenty of tangled vine-talk to help you. For instance, Master Xuefeng said: 'The entire great earth is you.' Jiashan said: 'Recognize the old monk at the tip of the hundred grasses; discern the Son of Heaven at the market gate.' Lepu said: 'As soon as a dust mote is raised, the great earth is completely gathered in; a single hair of the lion is the entire body.' All of these you should take up, turn over, and contemplate; after long days and years, an entry path will naturally appear. In this matter, no one can substitute for you; it is entirely within each person's own allotment. An old monk's appearing in the world is merely to bear witness for you. If you have the slightest basis, one cannot obscure you; if you truly have not attained it, skillful means to deflect you cannot be used. Brothers, equally having worn out straw sandals, having cast aside masters and parents to go on pilgrimage, you must summon some spirit before you succeed! Truly, if there is an entry point, when you encounter a capable person who bites pigs and dogs, who does not begrudge life and enters mud and water to help you, there is something to chew on. Pin up your eyebrows, hang up your almsbowl high, snap your staff, and resolve to see it through for ten or twenty years; do not worry that it will not be accomplished. Even if you do not see it through in this life, in the next life you will not lose a human body. In this gate, it is effortless; you will not have lived this life in vain, nor will you fail your masters, parents, and the donors of the ten directions. You must pay attention! Do not wander emptily through prefectures and hunt through counties, carrying your staff horizontally and rushing about for one or two thousand li, spending winter over here and summer over there, indulging yourself because the scenery is pleasant, easily obtaining robes and bowls because offerings are abundant. How bitter and tragic! Seeking a single grain of his rice, you lose half a year's provisions! What benefit is there in such pilgrimage? How can you digest the vegetables and grains of faithful donors? You must look into yourself! Time waits for no one. Suddenly one day the light of your eyes falls to the ground; when that comes before you, what will you resist it with? Do not be like a crab dropped in boiling water, flailing your limbs in confusion, with nowhere to pretend or talk big. Do not pass the time idly in vain. Once the human body is lost, it cannot be recovered for ten thousand kalpas; it is no small matter. Do not just cling to the present moment. The ancients said, 'If in the morning one hears the Way, in the evening one may die content.' How much more so for us śramaṇas—what matter should we be treading day and night? You must make great effort! Make effort! Take care!"

The Master said: "You are utterly helpless. Seeing someone speak of the ancestral intent, you ask about speech that transcends the buddhas and patriarchs. Just tell me, what do you call a buddha, and what do you call a patriarch? Speak a principle that transcends buddhas and patriarchs! You ask about leaving the three realms—bring the three realms here for me to see! What perception, hearing, awareness, or knowing obstructs you? What sound or form is there for you to be lucid about? What bowl is that? What do you consider a discriminatory view? The ancient sages, out of helplessness, gave themselves up for living beings and said, 'The entire body is wholly real; phenomenal things in their very manifestation cannot be grasped.' If I tell you that directly there is nothing the matter, already this is burying you alive. If you truly have no entry point, then investigate secretly on your own: apart from putting on clothes, eating food, defecating, and urinating, what other matter is there? Why needlessly generate so much delusive thinking? There is also another sort, as if casually, who gather together to learn the conversational style of the ancients, using their intellectual consciousness to remember and their delusive thoughts to calculate, saying, 'I understand the Buddhadharma!' They merely talk entangled vines, indulging themselves to pass the time; what is more, they complain when things do not suit them. Traveling thousands of villages and tens of thousands of miles, casting aside their aging fathers and mothers, their masters and monks—acting like this, what urgent matter of life and death sent such wild baldies on pilgrimage?"

The Master entered the hall and said: "Therefore we know that the fortune of the times is degenerate and shallow, reaching the final Semblance age. Recently, monks go north to pay homage to Mañjuśrī and go south to tour Mount Heng. If they go on pilgrimage like this, they are nominal bhikṣus who consume the faithful's alms in vain. How bitter! How bitter! When questioned, they are dark as lacquer; they merely indulge themselves to pass the time. Even if there are two or three who uselessly study much learning and memorize lines of talk, seeking similar words everywhere to get the seal of approval from old masters, they look down upon their superiors and create karma of depleted blessings and virtue. On a future day when King Yama nails you down, do not say no one spoke to you! If you are a beginner or a later student, you must gather your energy and not memorize what others say in vain. Much sentiment and falsehood is not as good as a little reality; afterward, you will only have cheated yourself. If you have any matter, step forward!"

The Master entered the hall, and the great assembly gathered like clouds. The Master pointed his staff before them and said: "The cosmos, the great earth, and the fine-dust buddhas are all inside here, contending over the Buddhadharma, each seeking victory or defeat. Is there anyone who can arbitrate? If no one can arbitrate, wait for this old fellow to arbitrate for you!" At that time, a monk stepped forward and said: "Then please, Upādhyāya, arbitrate!" The Master said: "This wild fox spirit!"

The Master said: "All of you go about on pilgrimage, coming from south of the River or north of the Sea, each having the place of your birth and conditions. Do you know where that place is? Try coming forward to present it; the old fellow will bear witness for you. Is there anyone? Is there anyone? Come forward! If you do not know, the old fellow will deceive you. If you wish to know: if the conditions of your birth are in the north, in the north there is Upādhyāya Zhaozhou, and on Mount Wutai there is Mañjuśrī—all are right here. If the conditions of your birth are in the south, in the south there is Xuefeng, Wolong, Xitang, and Gushan—all are right here. Do you wish to know them? If you wish to know them, recognize them right here! If you do not see, do not pretend either. Do you see? Do you see? Watch as this old monk rides the Buddha hall out! Take care!"

The Master entered the hall and said: "Bodhisattva Vasubandhu for no reason transformed into a staff of mountain-peach wood." Then, drawing a line on the ground, he said: "The buddhas as numerous as sands of dust all engage in vine-tangle talk right here." Then he stepped down from the hall.

The Master said: "I see that you cannot catch on within two or three moves; what benefit is there in wearing the patch-robed garment in vain? Do you understand? I will explain it thoroughly for you: in the future, if you see an old master in any quarter raise a finger or erect a whisk, saying, 'This is Chan, this is the Way,' grab his staff, break his head, and walk away! If you do not do so, you are entirely belonging to the retinue of the heavenly māras, destroying our school! If you do not understand, then look inside the society of tangled vines. I usually tell you: the fine-dust lands, the buddhas of the three periods, the twenty-eight patriarchs of India, and the six patriarchs of the Tang land all preach the Dharma on the tip of the staff, their spiritual penetrations and transformations resounding through the ten directions, freely active in every way. Do you understand? If you do not understand, do not pretend! However, even if based on fact, is it truly seen clearly? Even if you reach this ground, you have not yet dreamed of the patch-robed monk. A śrāmaṇera in a three-house village encounters no one." The Master suddenly rose, drew a line on the ground with his staff, and said: "All are right here." He drew another line and said: "All go out from right here! Take care!"

The Master entered the hall and said: "Venerable ones! A patch-robed monk must clarify a patch-robed monk's nostrils. Now, what is a patch-robed monk's nostrils?" The assembly had no reply. The Master said: "Mahāprajñāpāramitā! General work duty—down you go!"

The Master entered the hall and said: "Venerable ones! Even if you say there is nothing the matter, it is still adding a head on top of a head, adding frost onto snow, staring with eyes wide open inside a coffin, applying moxa over a cauterized scar. This mess is no small matter. What should you do? Each of you should find a place to settle your life; do not wander emptily through prefectures and hunt through counties, merely wishing to seize idle talk, waiting for the old master to move his mouth, then asking about Chan, asking about the Way, how is the transcendental, how is the worldly, transcribing large scrolls to stuff into your leather bag and speculate over. Everywhere by the hearth, three or five gather their heads together, muttering and raising questions, saying: 'This is an expression of public talent; this is an expression spoken from within; this is an expression spoken according to phenomena; this is the expression of essence.' Essence your aging father and mother at home! Having gulped down your rice, you just talk dreams and say, 'I understand the Buddhadharma!' When in the Year of the Donkey will your pilgrimage find rest? There is also another sort: the moment they hear of a resting place, they close their brows and shut their eyes in the realm of the aggregates, making a living in a rat's hole, sitting under the dark mountain in the ghost realm, and speculating, they say they have found an entry path. Have they dreamed of it? For those like this, even if ten thousand were killed, what sin would there be? They are called blind beaters; not having met a master of the craft, in the end they are merely pretenders. If you truly have a perspective, try presenting it so I can deliberate with you. Do not blindly ignore good and bad, stubbornly putting your heads together to speak idle vine-tangles! Do not let this old fellow catch you, interrogate you, and finding you inadequate, break your legs! Do not say I did not warn you! Do you still have blood under your skin?" Using his staff, he drove them all down at once.

A monk asked: "What is the great meaning of the Buddhadharma?" The Master said: "When spring comes, the grass turns green by itself."

The Master asked a monk from Silla: "With what thing did you cross the sea?" The monk said: "The grass bandits are defeated." The Master extended his hand and said: "Why are you here in my place?" The monk said: "Just so." The Master said: "Jump again!"

A monk asked: "How was it before Niutou met the Fourth Patriarch?" The Master said: "Every household has Avalokiteśvara." The monk said: "How was it after he met him?" The Master said: "In the fire, a midge swallows a tiger."

A monk asked: "What is Yunmen's single phrase?" The Master said: "The twenty-fifth of the twelfth month."

A monk asked: "What is the mud ox bellowing on the snowy peak?" The Master said: "Heaven and earth are dark." The monk said: "What is Yunmen's wooden horse neighing?" The Master said: "Mountains and rivers flee."

A monk asked: "Regarding the matter from antiquity onwards, please, Master, present the essentials." The Master said: "In the morning, look southeast; in the evening, look northwest." The monk said: "What about when one understands it just so?" The Master said: "Lighting a lamp in the eastern room; sitting in the dark in the western room."

A monk asked: "Throughout the twelve periods of the day, how can one avoid passing the time in vain?" The Master said: "Where do you place this question?" The monk said: "The student does not understand; please, Master, cite it." The Master said: "Bring the brush and inkstone." The monk then brought the brush and inkstone. The Master composed a verse: