景德傳燈錄 3.9
English (machine translation) 3.9
- Language
- English
3.9
Zongsheng rejoiced upon hearing the verse. Thereupon he sat in peaceful meditation among the crags. At that time, King Yijian asked Prajñātāra again, "Whom does your wisdom and eloquence take as teacher?" He replied, "When I left home, the Tripiṭaka Master Uṣabha of Sāla Monastery was my instructing master. My master of world-transcendence is none other than the Great King's uncle, Bodhidharma." Hearing the master's name, the king was astonished for a long time. He said, "Unworthy as I am, I inherited the royal throne, yet I pursued heterodoxy, turned my back on the correct [teaching], and forgot my revered uncle." He hastily ordered close ministers to make a special point of welcoming and inviting him. The master then arrived with the envoys and repented of past wrongs on behalf of the king. Hearing his admonitions, the king wept and thanked the master. He also issued an edict summoning Zongsheng back to the realm. The great ministers memorialized, "Zongsheng was banished and threw himself off a cliff; he has already died." The king said to the master, "Zongsheng's death was entirely caused by me. By what great compassion can I be freed from this sin?" The master said, "Zongsheng is now resting peacefully among the crags. If you merely dispatch an envoy to summon him, he will arrive at once." The king then dispatched an envoy into the mountains, who indeed saw Zongsheng sitting upright in tranquil dhyāna. Receiving the summons, Zongsheng said, "I am deeply ashamed before the king's intention. This poor monk vows to dwell among the crags and springs. Furthermore, the king's realm has a forest of worthy and virtuous men: Bodhidharma is the king's uncle, the teacher of the six assemblies; Prajñātāra is a dragon and elephant within the Dharma. May the king venerate these two sages to bring fortune upon the imperial foundation." The envoy reported back. Before he had arrived, the master said to the king, "Do you know whether Zongsheng will be brought back?" The king said, "I do not know yet." The master said, "He will not come at the first invitation, but with a second order he will surely come." After a long while, the envoy returned, and it was indeed as the master had spoken. The master then took leave of the king, saying, "You should cultivate virtue well; before long an illness will arise. I am taking my leave for now." After seven days, the king fell ill. The court physicians treated him, but the illness grew worse without improvement. The royal relatives and close ministers recalled the master's prior prediction and hurriedly dispatched an envoy to inform the master, saying, "The king's illness has almost reached its end. We pray that his uncle, with compassion, will come from afar to show concern and save him." The master immediately went to the king's side to console him in his illness. At that time, Zongsheng, having received the king's summons a second time, departed from the crags. Prajñātāra, having long received the king's favor, also came to inquire after his illness. Prajñātāra said, "What should be done to free the king from suffering?" The master immediately had the crown prince pardon crimes, bestow favors, and venerate the Saṃgha jewel on behalf of the king. He also repented on behalf of the king, saying, "May the sins be extinguished." This was done three times, and the king's illness showed remission. The master thought to himself, "The conditions in China have ripened; the time to travel and transform has arrived." He first took leave of his ancestral stūpa, and next bade farewell to his fellow students. Then, going to the king's presence, he consoled and exhorted him, saying, "You must diligently cultivate white deeds and protect and uphold the Three Jewels. I shall depart not for long; after nine years I will return." Hearing the master's words, the king wept with mixed tears and said, "What crime has this realm committed, and what auspiciousness does that land possess? Since you have a karmic bond, uncle, it is not for me to stop you. I only pray that you will not forget the land of your father and mother, and return early when your work is finished." The king then prepared a great ship, filled it with myriad treasures, and personally led his ministers to see him off at the seashore. The master sailed across the great ocean for three cold and warm seasons in all, arriving at the Southern Sea. It was the twenty-first day of the ninth month in the dingwei year, the eighth year of the Putong reign era of the Liang dynasty. Xiao Ang, the governor of Guangzhou, welcomed him with full host's etiquette and submitted a memorial to Emperor Wu. Having read the memorial, the Emperor dispatched an envoy carrying an imperial edict to welcome and invite him. On the first day of the tenth month, he arrived in Jinling. (Chan Master Song, basing himself on the Xu faji by Baoxiang of the Liang, wrote the Zhengtong ji, stating that Bodhidharma arrived in this land in the gengzi year, the first year of Putong of Emperor Wu of the Liang, which was the first year of Zhengguang of Emperor Ming of the Later Wei. If this is so, it agrees with the subsequent years of his entry into nirvāṇa and the opening of the tomb. If we follow this claim that he arrived at the Southern Sea on the twenty-first day of the ninth month in the dingwei year, the eighth year of Putong, and arrived in Jinling on the first day of the tenth month, it is an egregious error. For in the third month of the eighth year of Putong, the era had already changed to the first year of Datong, so in the ninth month it should not still be called the eighth year of Putong. The Southern Sea is modern Guangzhou, several thousand li from Jinling. If the governor memorialized the court and Emperor Wu issued an edict to invite him, how could he have reached Jinling in just ten days? Furthermore, consulting Xiao Ang's biography in the Nan shi, it does not state that Ang was the governor of Guangzhou, but only mentions Xiao Ang as the chief administrator of Guangzhou at the end of Wang Mao's biography; yet it is not known in what year he held the post. Now one can only say: "...arrived at the Southern Sea; it was the first year of the Putong era of the Liang. The governor of Guangzhou welcomed him with full host's etiquette and submitted a memorial to Emperor Wu. Having read the memorial, the Emperor dispatched an envoy carrying an imperial edict to welcome and invite him. On the first day of the tenth month, he arrived in Jinling.") The Emperor asked, saying, "Since ascending the throne, I have built temples, transcribed scriptures, and ordained monks beyond count. What merit and virtue do I possess?" The master said, "None whatsoever." The Emperor said, "Why is there no merit and virtue?" The master said, "These are merely the lesser fruits of humans and devas, causes bound to outflows. Like a shadow following a form, though they exist, they are not real." The Emperor said, "What is true merit and virtue?" He answered, "Pure wisdom is wondrous and complete; its essence is intrinsically empty and tranquil. Such merit and virtue cannot be sought by worldly means." The Emperor asked again, "What is the highest truth of the sacred truths?" The master said, "Vast emptiness, nothing sacred." The Emperor said, "Who is facing Us?" The master said, "I do not know." The Emperor did not grasp it. The master knew that the spiritual capacity did not tally; on the nineteenth day of that month, he secretly crossed to the north of the river. On the twenty-third day of the eleventh month, he arrived at Luoyang; this was the tenth year of the Taihe era of Emperor Xiaoming of the Later Wei (it should say the first year of Zhengguang of Emperor Xiaoming of the Later Wei; the tenth year of Taihe was during the reign of Emperor Wendi of the Later Wei, which was the bingyin year, the fourth year of the Yongming era of Emperor Wu of the Southern Qi). He lodged at Shaolin Monastery on Mount Song, where he sat facing the wall in silence throughout the day. People could not fathom him and called him the 'Wall-Contemplating Brahmin.' At that time, there was a monk named Shenguang, a man of broad and open mind. Having long resided in the Yi and Luo region, he had read widely among the many books and was skilled in discoursing on the profound principle. He often sighed, saying, "The teachings of Confucius and Laozi are the models of ritual and conduct; the texts of Zhuangzi and the Book of Changes do not exhaust the wondrous principle. Recently I heard that the Great Being Bodhidharma dwells at Shaolin. The ultimate person is not far; I should attain that profound realm." He then went there to attend upon him morning and evening. The master constantly sat upright facing the wall, and Shenguang heard no instruction or encouragement. Guang thought to himself, "In ancient times, those who sought the Way broke their bones to extract marrow, pierced their blood to relieve the hungry, spread their hair to cover the mud, or threw themselves off cliffs to feed tigers. If even the ancients were like this, what kind of person am I?" On the night of the ninth day of the twelfth month of that year, it snowed heavily. Guang stood firm without moving; by dawn, the accumulated snow had reached past his knees. Pitying him, the master asked, "Standing so long in the snow, what do you seek?" Guang said with tears of sorrow, "I only pray that the upādhyāya, out of compassion, will open the gate of sweet dew and broadly deliver all living beings." The master said, "The unexcelled, wondrous Way of all Buddhas requires diligent perseverance through vast kalpas, practicing what is difficult to practice and enduring what cannot be endured. How could one, with small virtue and small wisdom, with a light and haughty mind, expect to hope for the True Vehicle in vain toil and bitter effort?" Hearing the master's reprimand and encouragement, Guang secretly took a sharp knife, cut off his own left arm, and placed it before the master. Knowing he was a vessel of the Dharma, the master said, "When all Buddhas first sought the Way, they forgot their bodies for the Dharma. Now you have cut off your arm before me; your seeking may indeed be accepted." Thereupon, the master changed his name to Huike. Guang said, "May I hear the Dharma-seal of all Buddhas?" The master said, "The Dharma-seal of all Buddhas is not obtained from another person." Guang said, "My mind is not yet at peace; I beg the master to pacify it." The master said, "Bring your mind here, and I will pacify it for you." Guang said, "I have searched for the mind, but it is completely unobtainable." The master said, "I have finished pacifying your mind for you." Later, Emperor Xiaoming heard of the master's extraordinary traces and sent envoys bearing an edict to summon him three times in all, but the master did not come down from Shaolin. The Emperor revered and admired him all the more, and accordingly bestowed upon him two robes of monk's wool (māna) kaṣāyas, a golden bowl, a silver water pitcher, silken fabrics, and the like. The master firmly declined three times, but the Emperor's intention was all the firmer, so the master accepted them. From then on, both monastics and laity had double faith and devotion toward him. After nine years had elapsed, wishing to return west to India, he instructed his disciples, saying, "The time is about to arrive. Why do you not each state what you have attained?" At that time, the disciple Daofu answered, "As I see it, neither clinging to words nor parting from words serves as the function of the Way." The master said, "You have obtained my skin." The nun Zongchi said, "What I now understand is like Qingxi seeing the realm of Akṣobhya Buddha: once seen, it is never seen again." The master said, "You have obtained my flesh." Daoyu said, "The four great elements are fundamentally empty, and the five aggregates are non-existent; where my vision reaches, not a single dharma can be obtained." The master said, "You have obtained my bones." Finally, Huike bowed, then stood back in his place. The master said, "You have obtained my marrow." Then, looking at Huike, he addressed him, saying, "Formerly, the Tathāgata entrusted the correct Dharma eye to the Great Being Kāśyapa, and it was transmitted and entrusted successively until it reached me. I now entrust it to you; you should protect and uphold it. I also bestow upon you the kaṣāya as the token of faith in the Dharma. Each signifies something; you should understand this." Ke said, "Please point it out and explain, Master." The master said, "Internally, the Dharma-seal is transmitted to tally with and verify the mind; externally, the kaṣāya is bestowed to determine the tradition of the school. In future generations of decline and superficiality, doubts and suspicions will arise in competition, saying, 'I am a man of the Western Heavens, and you are a child of this land. On what basis did you attain the Dharma? By what do you verify it?' If you now receive this robe and Dharma, when difficulties arise later, simply display this robe and my Dharma verse to make it clear, and your teaching will be without hindrance. Two hundred years after my passing, the robe will cease to be transmitted, but the Dharma will pervade the realms as numerous as the sands. Those who understand the Way will be many, while those who practice the Way will be few; those who speak of the principle will be many, while those who penetrate the principle will be few. Those who secretly tally and covertly verify will be more than tens of millions. You should elucidate and propagate it; do not disdain those who have not yet awakened. A single thought turning the pivot is immediately the same as original attainment. Listen to my verse:"
Linked texts (1)
- 景德傳燈錄 — Classical Chinese