傳法正宗記 4.22

4.22

The Venerable Simha was a man of Central India, surnamed Brāhmaṇa. He was innately intelligent and possessed of transcendent wisdom and eloquence. In his youth, he went forth under a Brāhmaṇa monk to study meditation. Later he took Haklenayaśas as his master and soon received the transmission of the Dharma. He traveled to convert beings in the kingdom of Jibin. Earlier, that country had a śramaṇa named Vālikā, who devoted himself to practicing Hīnayāna meditation contemplation. After Vālikā, his disciples who upheld his teaching subsequently split into five schools: one called Dhyāna Concentration, one called Knowledge and Vision, one called Grasping Marks, one called Renouncing Marks, and one called Observing Silence. They vied to surpass one another in their capabilities. The Venerable went to correct all of them. First, he said to the one observing silence: "The Buddha's teaching diligently expounds prajñā. Who would practice silence, thereby contradicting the Buddha's teachings?" Next, he said to the one renouncing marks: "The Buddha's teachings are complete in deportment and pure in brahma practice; how could one renounce marks?" Next, he said to the one grasping marks: "The Buddha realm is pure, sovereign, and without attachment; why grasp marks?" Next, he said to the one of knowledge and vision: "The knowledge and vision of all Buddhas has nothing to be attained. Therefore, this Dharma is subtle and wondrous, beyond awakening and hearing, unconditioned and devoid of marks; why knowledge and vision?" Thereupon the assemblies of the four [schools] all submitted to his teaching. The head of the fifth assembly of meditation contemplation was named Dharmadata. Regarded as a knowledgeable master, the multitudes all revered him. Indignant and resentful at the submission of the previous four assemblies, he thereupon informed the Venerable that he wished to interrogate him with difficult questions. When he first arrived, the Venerable asked him: "You, benevolent one, practice concentration. Why come here? If you come here, how can you be practicing concentration?" He replied: "When I come to this place, my mind is also not disordered. Concentration follows the person's practice; how could it depend on place?" [The Venerable] further asked: "When you, benevolent one, come, your practice also arrives. Since there is no place, how could it depend on a person's practice?" He replied: "Because concentration practices the person, it is not that the person practices concentration. Though I come and go, that concentration is constantly practiced." [The Venerable] further asked: "Since the person does not practice concentration and it is concentration that practices the person, when one comes and goes of oneself, who practices that concentration?" He replied: "Like a clear and bright jewel, without flaw inside or out: when concentration is thoroughly mastered, it should indeed be like this." [The Venerable] further asked: "If concentration is thoroughly mastered, it must indeed resemble a bright jewel. Now seeing you, benevolent one, you are not of the kind of a jewel." He replied: "That jewel is luminous and clear, and both inside and outside are entirely tranquil. My mind is not disordered, just like this jewel." [The Venerable] further asked: "That jewel has no inside or outside. How can you, benevolent one, determine impurities? If things are not unsteady, this concentration is not purity." Dharmadata's reasoning was exhausted, and he then bowed to him, saying: "My study of the Way has merely been in vain! Had I not heard these words, I would almost have never understood the ultimate. May the Venerable allow me to take you as my master!" The Venerable firmly declined, but Dharmadata's entreaties did not cease. So [the Venerable] told him: "The dhyāna concentration of all Buddhas has nothing to be attained. The awakened Way of all Buddhas has nothing to be realized. Devoid of attainment and realization—this is true liberation. Recompensing causes and responding to effects are the karmic retributions of the mundane world; yet within this Dharma, none are like that. If you practice concentration, it should indeed be thus." Dharmadata joyfully accepted his instruction. Before long, there was a son of an elder in that country named Śāntā, who was only twenty years old. His left hand always seemed to clasp something and had never opened. One night, his father dreamed that a divine being told him to send him to Simha to be cured. The following day, the father took his son to the Venerable to test his dream. Yet he first calculated in his mind: "If this boy's malady is truly cured, I shall freely allow him to leave household life." The Venerable had just been lamenting that he had been in this country for a long time yet had not found anyone to whom he could transmit his Dharma. One morning, the elder and his son arrived together, informed the Venerable of the hand and the dream, bowed, and wished that the son immediately be accepted into the monastic order. The Venerable then said to the assembly: "Do you know what this boy grasps in his hand?" None in the assembly could guess. He spoke again: "What he holds is just a precious jewel. In a past life, I was once a monk in a certain realm, whose vocation was chanting the Dragon King Sūtra. At that time, this boy had already left the household life under me, named Bashe. One day, it happened that the dragon palace invited me to an offering and presented a jewel as a donation. At that time, this boy accompanied me, and so I entrusted it to his palm. When my life ended there and I was born here, the karmic conditions between master and disciple were not severed; thus, there is this present meeting." He then instructed Śāntā to open his hand, and the jewel was indeed radiant in his palm. Thereupon the Venerable tonsured him, convened the sangha of nobles, and administered the full ordination. He said to him: "In your previous life when you went forth, you were already named Bashe, and now it is so again. It is fitting to combine them: your name shall be Bashe-sīta (Vāśasīta). I have just observed that this country is about to bring calamity upon me. Yet I am old and frail; how could I seek an improper escape? The Great Dharma Eye of the Tathāgata that I have inherited, I now entrust to you. You should uphold it and depart at once to dedicate yourself to propagating and converting. If you encounter those who doubt you, take my saṃghāṭī robe as a token of verification. Listen to my verse: