傳法正宗記 5.43

5.43

When Bodhidharma came east, it took a total of three years before he first arrived in Panyu, which was on the twenty-first day of the ninth month in the gengzi year, the first year of Putong of Emperor Wu of the Liang. (Some say it was the dingwei year, the eighth year of Putong. Xiao Ang, the inspector of the prefecture, reported the matter to the throne. [The Chuandeng lu and various old accounts all say that Bodhidharma arrived in the Liang during the eighth year of Putong. Now, examining the historical records, Putong reached only up to the seventh year; only in Wang You's long chronological tables of the cyclical years is an eighth year recorded, which is questionable. Moreover, they all state that Xiao Ang reported Bodhidharma's matter to the throne, but upon investigating Ang's biography, there is no mention of his serving as the regional inspector of Guangzhou. Only Ang's nephew, Xiao Li, served as the regional inspector of this prefecture at that time. It is feared that past chroniclers mistakenly took Li to be Ang. Since previous chroniclers of the national edition saw no fault in this, I dare not excise it arbitrarily, but preserve the doubt for now.]) Bodhidharma was immediately summoned to the capital. On the first day of the eleventh month of that year, he arrived in Jianye. The imperial carriage came out to welcome him back to the palace, and an imperial decree invited the Venerable One to sit beside the emperor in the main hall. The emperor then asked: "I have built temples, copied sutras, and ordained vast numbers of monks and nuns. What merit must I have?" The Venerable One said: "No merit." The emperor asked: "Why is there no merit?" He replied: "These are merely minor fruits of humans and devas, causes subject to defilements. Like a shadow following a form, though they exist, they are not real." The emperor asked: "What is true merit?" He replied: "Pure wisdom is wondrously round, its essence inherently empty and quiescent. Such merit cannot be sought through worldly means." The emperor asked again: "What is the primary truth of the noble truths?" He replied: "Vast and void, with nothing noble." The emperor asked: "Who is facing Us?" He replied: "I do not know." The emperor did not understand, and the audience ended. The Venerable One knew that the karmic conditions did not accord. He secretly departed Liang across the river on the nineteenth day, and on the twenty-third day went north toward the territory of Wei. Soon he arrived in the city of Luo; this was the first year of Zhengguang of Emperor Xiaoming of the Later Wei. At first he stayed at Shaolin Monastery on Mount Song, spending the entire day silently sitting facing a wall. The assembly could not fathom why he did so, and worldly people simply considered him the wall-contemplating Brahmin monk. Before long, there was a śramaṇa in Luoyang named Shenguang. He was broad-minded and moved freely in the world, and people also regarded him as unfathomable. When he heard of the Venerable One's august demeanor, he said: "A consummate person is here; I will go and take him as my master." Although Shenguang served him with complete propriety, the Venerable One never spoke to him. Shenguang was moved to reflect: "In ancient times, those who sought the Way forgot their very bodies; how can I now compare to even one ten-thousandth of them?" That evening, a heavy snow fell. Shenguang stood on the steps, and by dawn the snow reached past his knees. The Venerable One looked back at Shenguang and said: "Standing in the snow, what do you seek?" Shenguang wept and reported: "My only wish is that the upādhyāya, with great compassion and wisdom, open the gate of sweet dew and broadly deliver our kind." The Venerable One said to him: "The supreme, wondrous Way of all Buddhas cannot be attained even through vast eons of diligent striving, practicing what is difficult to practice and enduring what is difficult to endure. How could one presume to seek the great Dharma through such trifling toil and petty effort?" Hearing this admonition, Shenguang secretly severed his left arm with a blade and placed it before him. The Venerable One then asked Shenguang: "When all Buddhas initially sought the Way, they forgot their bodies for the Dharma. Now that you have severed your arm before me, what you seek may also be granted." Shenguang asked again: "My mind is not yet at peace; I beg the master to pacify it for me." The Venerable One said: "Bring your mind here, and I will pacify it for you." He said: "Searching for my mind, it is completely unobtainable." Bodhidharma replied: "I have pacified your mind for you." Thereupon Shenguang had an awakening. The Venerable One then changed his name to Huike. From then on, students placed their faith in him, and both monks and laypeople flocked to the Venerable One like the swaying of grass. His reputation having spread, it came to the ears of the Wei court. Emperor Xiaoming summoned him three times, but he did not stir; the emperor held him in high esteem and consequently bestowed upon him two mana robes and a quantity of gold and silver vessels. The Venerable One declined them all three times, but the emperor eventually conferred them upon him. After he had resided in Wei for nine years, the Venerable One suddenly said to his disciples one day: "The time for my return to the west has arrived. You should each express your attainment." At that time, one named Daofu spoke first, saying: "As I see it, neither clinging to words nor separating from words is the function of the Way." The Venerable One said: "You have attained my skin." A nun named Zongchi said: "As I understand it now, it is like Ānanda's sight of the land of Akṣobhya Buddha: seen once, it is never seen again." The Venerable One said: "You have attained my flesh." One named Daoyu said: "The four great elements are fundamentally empty, and the five aggregates do not exist. As I see it, there is not a single dharma to be attained; the path of words is cut off, and the place of mental activity is extinguished." The Venerable One said: "You have attained my bones." When Huike stepped forward, bowed, and returned to his place standing, the Venerable One said: "You have attained my marrow." Soon after, he instructed him: "Formerly, the Tathāgata entrusted the Great Dharma-eye to Mahākāśyapa, and it has been transmitted successively down to me. I now entrust it to you; you should transmit it without letting it be severed. I also bestow upon you this saṃghāṭī and precious bowl as the token of faith in the Dharma. I only fear that future generations, seeing that you received it from me, a foreigner, will not believe in your lineage transmission. You should keep this as verification to determine its principle and purpose. However, two hundred years after my passing, the transmission of the robe and bowl will cease, while the Dharma will flourish greatly. At that time, those who know the Way will be many, but those who practice the Way will be few; those who speak of principle will be many, but those who awaken to principle will be few. Nevertheless, those who secretly penetrate and intimately realize it will number more than tens of millions. Strive to make it known and do not slight those who are not yet awakened. Listen to my verse: