釋門自鏡錄 2

English (machine translation) 2

Language: English

2.29 — 4 parts

2.1

Records of Harming Living Beings and Damaging Compassion, Number 8

2.2

Zhu Fahui of Xiangyang under the Jin Being Murdered, and the Matter of His Disciple Breaking a Leg

Zhu Fahui's secular surname was Zhang. He was worthy, upright, and possessed precept conduct, with quite a few miraculous signs. He constantly said to his disciple Fazhao, 'In a past life, you once broke a chicken's leg; the retribution will soon arrive, so you had best be careful.' When Zhao suddenly went out traveling, he was mistakenly knocked down by someone and broke a leg. Zhao only then believed and understood. He said to his disciples, 'I have a debt from a past life; now I must receive it.' Soon after, he was murdered by the General Who Pacifies the West, Yu Zhigong.

2.4

Monk Sengqun of Mount Huo under the Jin Breaking a Duck's Wing and Seeing the Direct Retribution (with Zhi Dun appended from the Mingxiang ji)

2.5

Shi Sengqun—it is not known who he was. Pure, poor, and maintaining his integrity, he ate vegetables and chanted scriptures. Later he lived on Mount Huo. The mountain stood solitary in the sea, and on top was a stone basin several zhang in diameter with six or seven chi of water, always flowing clear. According to an old tradition, it was the dwelling place of immortals, and drinking the water stopped hunger; thus he abstained from grain. Qun's hut was separated from the basin by a small ravine, and he always used a single log as a bridge, crossing it to draw water. Later, suddenly a duck with a broken wing spread its wings at the end of the bridge to peck for food. Qun wanted to raise his tin staff to push it aside, but he suddenly remembered that in his youth he had once broken a duck's wing. Knowing from this personal proof that this was the appearance of retribution, he stopped drinking water and passed away. On the verge of death, he recounted the matter in full to others, and that was all.

2.6

Zhi Dun, whose courtesy name was Daolin, had the secular surname Lin and was a native of Chenliu. He entered renunciation in his youth; his spirit was outstanding and his comprehension transcendent, unique in a thousand years. Yet he thought that chicken eggs had not yet received sufficient qi and thus were not sentient life, saying that eating them was without fault. His master, a monk who maintained strict precepts, constantly admonished and exhorted him, but Dun was quick in debate and straightforward in speech, and his master could not make him yield. After his master died, he suddenly appeared in bodily form, took a chicken egg, and threw it onto the ground in front of Dun. A chick emerged from the egg, flying about, drinking, and pecking. Dun became somewhat doubtful in mind, but could not yet reform completely. Later, when he again wished to eat them, he dreamed of a husband and wife who knelt on both knees before Dun and said, 'We have thirty children who are to be served in the kitchen tomorrow. We beg for their lives from the master; we pray you will deign to take pity and save them.' They held chicken eggs in their mouths and broke them before Dun, and in each of them was a boy in white coming out from inside. After waking, he deeply rebuked himself with regret and ate vegetables for the rest of his life.

2.7

Zhu Huichi of Siceng Monastery in Jiangling under the Song Eating Meat and Being Born into the Hungry Dog Hell (from the Mingxiang ji)

2.8

Zhu Huichi was a native of Xinye and resided at Siceng Monastery in Jiangling. In the second year of Yongchu, he died. His disciples held a seven-day memorial assembly for him. As that day was drawing to dusk and the burning of incense was completed, the śramaṇa Daoxian went to visit Chi's disciples. Arriving in front of the room, he suddenly saw a dim figure resembling a human form. Looking closely, it was Huichi. His appearance and clothing were no different from when he was alive. He said to Xian, 'Friend, is eating meat delicious?' Xian said, 'It is delicious.' Chi said, 'Because I ate meat, I have now fallen into the Hungry Dog Hell.' Daoxian was terrified and had not yet managed to answer, when Chi spoke to him again: 'If you do not believe it, try looking behind my back.' He then turned his back to show Xian, who saw three yellow dogs, their bodies half resembling donkeys, their eyes extremely red, casting light into the room, as if about to devour Chi, but then stopping. Xian was terrified and fainted away; after a long while he revived and recounted the matter in full. Because of this, he repented and reformed.

2.9

Lingcai of the Qi Eating Meat that Got Stuck in His Throat and Dying in Agony

2.10

Lingcai had the secular surname Zhao and was a native of Dongyang. Although he had entered the gate of the Way, his conduct was identical to that of the vulgar crowd. Gathering with others to drink and eat, he never felt any shame. He was once among the guests of Gu Pei, a prominent gentleman of Wu, seated at the Shengping Pavilion. He saw a sheep being led in to be used for food in the kitchen. Because the net of greed covered his mind, Cai never uttered a word of dissuasion. Soon the sheep broke its rope and ran beneath Cai's knees, thrusting its head under his kāṣāya as if seeking rescue. Cai remained silent. The sheep was immediately dragged away. In a short while, after the slaughtering and disemboweling were finished, the meat was roasted and served. Cai was the first to eat a piece of meat. Just as it entered his throat, the meat ran downward from above, striking against his heart and attacking his belly. The twisting agony was beyond endurance; writhing and groaning, his acute distress moved those around him. Pei immediately ordered a doctor to apply acupuncture. The roasted meat was still moving; they pierced the skin and took it out, and it was indeed the piece of meat. Cai fell ill, made sheep cries, spat foam, and returned to the monastery. Shortly thereafter he died. Those far and near who heard of it took it as a solemn warning.

2.11

Zhishen of Yangzhou under the Chen Being Admonished and Urged by the King (from the Zheng-yan zhuan)

2.12

Zhishen—his family name is unknown. His speech and conduct were largely foul, and he was deeply mired in lusts and desires. He always ate fresh fish to please his palate. He dug a pond in his quarters, twenty zhang wide, and raised many fresh fish to supply his morning and evening meals. Furthermore, he painted an image of King Yama and placed it by an empty seat; whenever the fish stew was freshly cooked, he would first offer it to the image. When someone asked the reason, Shen said, 'King Yama is the master of the nether hells; banishment and punishment depend on the tip of his brush. Should I by chance meet him, perhaps he will grant me leniency and pardon.' His companions ridiculed and admonished him, but none could stop him. Later he suddenly fell ill and died, and thereupon saw King Yama, who said, 'Lately this disciple has frequently received your offerings. Although your kind intention was deep, it only caused this disciple's burden of offenses to grow heavier. I pray the master will not do so! The taking of life is a grave matter and cannot be deferred.' He ordered the jailer to lead Shen to observe the places of suffering, saying, 'After viewing them, you may take the master back.' Shen walked forward and saw a great iron city with fierce flames blazing up. While still several hundred paces away, flying sparks burst forth in disarray and reached Shen. Shen was terrified and refused to advance further. The King said, 'What does the master think of what he has seen?' Shen wept in sorrow, begged for repentance, and pleaded to be released temporarily to return and cultivate merit. The King said, 'If outside the hell it is already like this, one can know what it is like inside the hell. That one creates it oneself and receives it oneself—these words are not false. Lately I have received your kindness; now I repay it with this.' Thereupon he was able to return to life, deeply reformed and spurred himself on, and through his dawn-to-dusk diligence became a monk of lofty conduct.

2.13

The monk Weizheng of Taiping Monastery in the Divine Capital Harming a Spider, Tang Dynasty (From the New Records)

2.14

Shi Weizheng: his family and lineage are not known. He entered the renunciant life in his youth and cultivated insightful understanding, listening and studying diligently without wasting a single day. He resided at Taiping Monastery in the Divine Capital, frequently expounding several Mahāyāna scriptures with profound benefit for propagation. Suddenly, behind his bed on the wall, he saw a spider. He pinned it with a staff, inadvertently severing one of its legs. He sent someone to remove it. On the following day, it returned, and Weizheng saw it; he again dispatched someone to carry it across the river to the south. After spending the night, it came again. Thereupon Weizheng flicked at its injured leg with his finger, whereupon his finger was bitten by it. He again dispatched someone to carry it extremely far away. On another day, unawares, it returned once more and bit his finger again. Although it was only a small sore, the pain was unbearable. He ordered it carried away once more, and from then on it did not return. Afterward, the sore slightly enlarged and gradually spread over his whole body. His body felt slight itching; scratching it with his hand produced a sore wherever his hand touched. Within the sores were spiderwebs, and the emerging sores each gradually enlarged to some two or three inches. Morning and evening the torment was beyond words and unbearable. Over the course of two years, his nasal mucus, saliva, and urine all had tiny spiderlings emerging from them. Up to the present day it has not healed. Inquiries made with a hundred remedies found none that could cure it. The congregation of the whole monastery gathered from time to time to make supplications to the Buddha on his behalf, whereat he felt slightly better. He exhausted his monastic robes and resources to make an ensemble of fifteen thousand images on Mount Longmen. Now, as the images are nearing completion, his sores have slightly closed. How could this not be brought about by uninvited past calamities?

2.15

Record 9: Improper Eating and Drinking

2.16

Zhu Danyou of Mount Tiantai Passing Through Pungent Ground while in the Womb and Being Expelled by a Holy Being, Jin Dynasty

2.17

Zhu Danyou, also called Fayou, was a native of Dunhuang. In his youth he dwelt in ascetic practices and trained in dhyāna meditation; his wondrous signs and marvelous awakenings are too numerous to detail here. He resided at Mount Chicheng, whose crags connect with Tiantai. Tiantai's sheer precipices tower loftily, and ancient elders hand down the lore that a vihāra stands above where those who have attained the Way dwell. Yet there is a stone bridge spanning a ravine, and crosswise stones block people; moreover, the moss is green and slippery, so that since antiquity none has ever reached it. Danyou walked to the place of the stone bridge and heard a voice in the air say: 'We know your sincere devotion, but you may not cross now; ten years hence you should come of yourself.' Danyou was despondent in his heart. In the evening he stayed overnight in their midst and heard the sounds of circumambulation and chanting of 'sādhu.' When he wished to advance later, he saw a person whose hair and eyebrows were pure white, who asked where Danyou was going. Danyou answered fully with his intention. The man said: 'You dwell in saṃsāra; how can a body of sin proceed? Because I am the mountain god, I inform you.' Danyou thereupon retreated and stopped for a short while, keeping clean and fasting for consecutive days. Thereupon he went again and saw that the crosswise stones had opened wide. Crossing a little past the bridge, he beheld the vihāra and holy monks, precisely as had been told. Thereupon he burned incense and took the midday meal. When the meal was finished, a holy monk told him: 'You have the odor of scallions and leeks; you should not stay here. You should come ten years hence.' Danyou said: 'Since birth, I have never known pungent filth; how much less could my mouth have eaten it for it to be spoken of as odor?' The holy monk said: 'When you were in the womb, your mother passed through land where scallions and leeks grew.' Danyou felt ashamed and withdrew. Looking back at the crosswise stones, they had joined together as before. Later he died on the mountain, his entire body being green.

2.18

The Śramaṇa Master Nan of Xin Monastery Drinking Wine and Being Rebuked, Song Dynasty (From the Mingxiang ji)

2.19

Jiang Xiaode was a native of Jiangling. In his youth he had faith, devotion, precision, and scrupulousness surpassing others. At the end of the Daming era, he contracted an illness and died. In the middle of the third night watch, as he was about to be encoffined, he revived, saying that an envoy claiming the king's order had summoned him. Xiaode followed him, and once they arrived, the king said: 'You have been diligent, attentive, and reverently devoted to the Great Dharma. Pointed out by Śakra Devānām Indra, because you are single-minded and earnest, you should quickly be born in an auspicious land. Yet because your lifespan is still long, he ordered me specially to summon you. Today you are to receive celestial joys, and I rejoice for you.' Xiaode joyfully consented. The king said: 'You may return home for a time to arrange whatever you wish to entrust and perform meritorious deeds. Do so quickly; in seven days come again.' Xiaode received his words and returned. On the road, he passed by a place with a small room that was exceedingly crude and dilapidated. He met the śramaṇa Master Nan of Xin Monastery living in this room. Having previously been old acquaintances, they inquired after each other in detail. Master Nan said: 'Since I entered the renunciant life, this poor monk had never drunk wine. Just recently I visited Master Lan, and Master Lan earnestly urged and pressed me to drink about a sheng. Now I have been summoned by the king to be questioned regarding this reason. Had this poor monk not been implicated in this, I ought to have been born in heaven; now I dwell in this dilapidated hut, and only after three years will I be able to ascend.' Xiaode returned home, and wishing to verify his words, immediately that evening dispatched someone in haste to inquire after Master Nan. It indeed happened that on this day, Master Nan had lain down to sleep at Master Lan's place, and by evening died without illness. After Xiaode recovered, within seven days he set out great offerings for merit. When the appointed time arrived, he suddenly passed away. The two monks Lan and Nan both resided at Xin Monastery, and Nan's religious practice was particularly refined, etc.

2.20

Yuantong of Great Zhuangyan Monastery in Ye Drinking Wine and Being Expelled and Rebuked by a Holy Being, Qi Dynasty

2.21

Shi Yuantong: his family and lineage are unknown. In his youth he entered the renunciant life, studying and chanting the textual purport of the Nirvāṇa Sūtra. In the summer of the fourth year of Jiande, among the listeners below his lecture platform was a guest monk who suddenly came to lodge. His body was afflicted with severe illness, with a fetid odor steaming heavily, so that none of the monks deigned to associate with him. Yuantong led him into his room and arranged decoctions and medicines for him; though there was filth and uncleanness, he was not in the least dismissive or fearful. Once at midnight, he held a cup of spring wine and said: 'Sir, for your lodging illness, taking this would be best.' For a long while, the guest, wincing his brows, drank a single gulp and then stopped. When summer ended and the illness was cured, he took leave of Yuantong and departed. On the verge of parting, he grasped Yuantong's hand and admonished him: 'In cultivating the Way, do not deceive even the dark chamber; how much more so with wine, which is the root of all unwholesome evils! Earlier, the Dharma Master bestowed it, and I feared hurting your kind intention. From this day forward, please sever this practice. This petty monk resides in an inferior small temple just five li north of the Rock Cave Monastery on Mount Gushan. You must circle round the ravines and marshes to come; that is the Zhulin (Bamboo Grove) Monastery. If conditions permit, keep it in mind and visit me.' Yuantong heard that Zhulin was where worthies and sages resided; he reverently apologized for the previous admonition and resolved that he would surely go to visit. When the next year arrived, he went to the Rock Cave for the summer retreat. He then brought incense and flowers with several people, following the path forward. Arriving at the mountain valley five li north of the monastery, he went out eastward and ascended a mountain knoll. He saw an old man, with a kerchief wrapped around his forehead, holding a mattock, opening more than twenty mu of wasteland. Seeing the monks grazing a horse, he cursed: 'Last year the official monastery let loose a horse to eat my standing crops. My son guarded them and was beaten almost to death. Do you now bring your faces here again?' Dragging his mattock, he came in pursuit. The monks fled back, but he did not pursue Yuantong alone, saying: 'It is your strength that let it loose to feed a hungry tiger.' Yuantong went east searching a small ravine, and heard the sound of chanting upon the mountain ridge. Yuantong asked where Zhulin was, and a voice answered: 'Could it not be Dharma Master Tong?' Yuantong answered, and it was indeed the former monk. Parting the woods and scaling the steep cliffs, he approached Yuantong to converse joyfully. Thereupon they invited each other to advance several li, when suddenly they saw twin gate-towers, high gates, long galleries, covered walkways, and tall bamboos touching the clouds, with green pines blocking the sun. He stood Yuantong to the left of the gate, saying: 'I must first consult the Upādhyāya.' In a moment, he was led to the gallery of the western pavilion of the lecture hall. The Upādhyāya sat on a high seat, with fifty or sixty attendants. The Upādhyāya appeared about seventy years old, resembling an Indian monk. Yuantong paid homage and stood back, whereat [the Upādhyāya] ordered him accommodated. As he was led around to pay obeisance, he saw monks in two rooms each seated in jeweled curtains, with interwoven ornaments dazzling the sunlight. They said to the guiding monk: 'What wine guest is that who dares come here?' and waving their hands, dismissed him. Yuantong looked ashamed. The monk then led him into his own room and arranged the midday meal. Yuantong therefore expressed his wish to remain here always to sweep and sprinkle together with them. The monk said: 'I must consult the Upādhyāya.' The Upādhyāya firmly dismissed him, and he was escorted out the main gate. Yuantong looked back with yearning and wept, grieving over his former offense, grasped the monk's hand, and parted. Walking west a hundred paces, looking back he still saw the gate-towers solemn and stately. Looking back step by step for another four li or so, he suddenly saw steep peaks and crags, no longer a monastery. Walking to the land being cleared, there were no traces whatsoever, only hazel groves. Those with understanding say: When the old man said 'Last year the official monastery let loose a horse,' the monks are like horses, only minding water and grass without seeking the holy Way. 'Eating my standing crops' means Yuantong's urging wine upon the guest monk harmed his sprouts of the Way. 'My son guarded them' means the guest originally protected the precepts and was unwilling to drink. 'Beaten almost to death' means that being urged to drink a single gulp almost destroyed his holy Way. Pursuing the monks means only the one with karmic affinities could advance. Yuantong did not awaken to these words and did not return to apply diligent repentance; is it not fitting that he was driven out?

2.22

The Monk Daoyuan of Xue Monastery in Liangzhou Drinking at Banquets and His Eyebrows Falling Out, Qi Dynasty

2.23

Shi Daoyuan: it is not known what kind of man he was. He resided at Xue Monastery in Liangzhou. By nature loose and unrestrained, he did not cultivate minor rules of deportment, indulging himself in attending drinking banquets. In the third year of Wuping, he suddenly dreamed of a great man who gnashed his teeth and rebuked him: 'You are a renunciant, yet your face and appearance are like this! Hastily indulging in wrongdoing, why do you not take a mirror to look at yourself?' Daoyuan awakened in alarm, sweating profusely. At dawn, looking at his reflection in a basin of water, he saw black spots beside his eyes. Thinking they were dirt, he washed and wiped them, and his eyebrows fell out. Thereupon he repented and reproached himself, reflecting on this calamity and punishment. He completely reformed his habitual ways, changing his appearance and altering his resolve: wearing tattered robes and broken sandals, taking one meal a day, maintaining the long fast, and strictly upholding the vinaya rules. In the dusk and dawn he practiced repentance, his tears flowing incessantly. After more than a month, he again dreamed of the former person, who smiled and said: 'To know one's fault and be able to reform is wisdom indeed. I pardon your former offense; do not continue it again.' Daoyuan awakened in startled joy, sweat covering his whole body. His face became moist and lustrous, and his eyebrows gradually grew out. Daoyuan, having repeatedly met with retribution, truly knew the three times of existence, and dedicated his whole heart to venerating the Dharma, becoming a monk of disciplined practice.

2.24

Fasi of Xisui Monastery in Sui Getting Drunk on Wine and Being Admonished by King Yama, Sui Dynasty

2.25

Shi Fasi: although he committed many infractions against the precepts, he always harbored reverence. In his youth, he once called for drinks in the evening with two or three companions. Deep in the night they dispersed, and as he just stepped out the door, suddenly three persons surrounded him front and back. Fasi asked: 'Who are you?' They replied: 'We are messengers of King Yama, sent to arrest and summon you,' and immediately grabbed him. Fasi contested with all his might, saying: 'What sin do I have that I am captured?' Barely able to enter his room, he leaned over, collapsed, and expired. The entire monastery was shocked and alarmed, all coming to stand guard over him. At dawn he revived. Weeping bitterly, he fully recounted what he had seen, saying: 'I went and saw King Yama, who asked what sins I had committed. I said: "In my youth I was favored to enter the Way, but I was vastly deficient in precept conduct. My other offenses are still light; only drinking wine was frequent." The king immediately ordered his attendants to pour wine for Fasi. The attendants dashed to fetch it, and once they arrived, gave Fasi a cup of wine, about a sheng in size. Fasi received it; once in his hands, it suddenly turned into boiling copper, flames leaping several zhang high. Terrified, he threw it, but could not get rid of it. The king urged him to drink quickly, and Fasi cried out wailing for rescue. The king said: "What merit did you make during your life?" Fasi said: "I constantly chanted the Precept Sūtra, once every night." As he finished speaking, the wine cup he held suddenly left his hand. The king said: "The precepts are the root of practice. Since you chant them, you must uphold them; do not make empty words anymore, vainly wasting your vitality. The power of chanting and upholding them also slightly dispelled your obstructive burdens. We release the Master for now to return; you should reflect and repent. If you wish to drink again, you should think of boiling copper." Thereupon he saw a foreign monk who led him out.' Later, Fasi did not heed the underworld repentance and was again arrested; thereupon he reformed, and so met with no further harm.

2.26

Xuanjian of Qinghua Monastery in Zezhou Smashing Wine Vessels, and an Extraordinary Monk Being Admonished by Ghosts, Tang Dynasty

2.27

Shi Xuanjian's secular surname was Jiao, and he was a native of Gaoping in Zezhou. At nineteen he entered renunciation and devoted his sincere faith to the Śākya clan. By his very nature he detested alcoholic drinks, meat, and pungent roots. Later he resided at Qinghua Monastery, relying on Master Yuan. He extensively gathered sūtras and treatises, gaining profound insight into the purport of the Mahāparinirvāṇa-sūtra. His fundamental disposition was earnest and upright; his words and actions corresponded with each other. Whenever he encountered the illicit practice of drinking wine, he never failed to smash the drinking vessels. For this reason, whenever secular gentlemen gathered for a drinking banquet and heard that Xuanjian was arriving, they would immediately scatter in flight. At that time, Qinghua Monastery was constructing a Buddha hall. The magistrate of Zezhou, Zhangsun Yi, was quite faithful. Hearing that the hired artisans and workmen were exceedingly numerous, he sent two cartloads of wine to supply them. When Xuanjian saw this, he smashed the wine vessels, spilling it in disarray across the ground, [saying,] 'My merit had rather remain uncompleted; I shall never use this illicit item.' Hearing of this, Zhangsun Yi was furious, intending to bring harm upon him the next morning. That night he dreamed that someone approached him with a sword. Abruptly waking in fright, he immediately took refuge and repented. Furthermore, at that time people met with pestilence and deaths were not few; they turned to Xuanjian to repent, and he had them cut off wine and meat, so that those who recovered were numerous. A local man named Li Qian was especially fond of drinking wine; on account of illness he requested to repent, and abruptly his ailment was cured. From then on, he detested and cast it aside, never even speaking of it. He once said to a friend, 'Ever since I met Master Xuanjian, the stench of wine has been like poison; I do not even like to smell it, how much less look at it.' His strict discipline moved people in such a manner. Coming to the sixth year of the Wude reign era (623 CE), the record-keeper Li of Huze County in that prefecture died, and after seven days he came to report to his wife, saying, 'I have become a wandering spirit in the human realm. I know all future matters. When I converse with people, it is just as with the living; I merely conceal myself behind objects and do not show my form.' At times the ghost went to Jingye Monastery to listen to the Vimalakīrtinirdeśa-sūtra. There was another Dharma master who occasionally drank wine; he said to the ghost, 'Whom does my expounding of this sūtra now inspire to listen?' The ghost replied, 'From above people's heads on up are ghosts and spirits, extending up to the devas, filling tier upon tier. When the chief reciter chants the text, they all compose their countenances and incline their ears. When the Dharma master explains the meaning, they all turn their faces away while listening, because they smell the stench of wine. This definitely must be broken off; if not, it were better not to lecture at all. It is not merely this assembly; it is so for all of them.' Ashamed, the monk quit [drinking] of his own accord.

2.28

Text on Abstinence from Wine and Meat by Gaozu of Liang (the original text is extensive and broad; it is slightly abridged here)

2.29.1

Your disciple Xiao Yan respectfully addresses the Venerable Ones: Rectifying the Buddha's Dharma is the duty of the black-robed [clergy]; it is indeed not the urgent concern of your white-robed disciple. Yet the sūtra teachings also state that the Buddha's Dharma is entrusted to laypeople; therefore your disciple cannot remain silent. Now may the Venerable monks and nuns open their minds to listen and accept this, not harboring doubts or closed hearts. That those who have left renunciation differ from the non-Buddhists is precisely because they believe in causes and effects, believe in what the sūtras clarify, and believe that these are the Buddha's words. The sūtras say that those who practice the ten unwholesome actions receive evil retributions, and those who practice the ten wholesome actions receive good retributions. Now those who have left renunciation still indulge in drinking wine and eating fish and meat; this conduct is identical to that of non-Buddhists. Non-Buddhists cling to views of annihilationism and eternalism, holding that there is neither cause nor effect, neither giving nor retribution. Now the Buddha's disciples indulge in wine and crave meat, fearing neither the cause of guilt nor the fruit of suffering; this is simply not believing in causes and not believing in effects. How is this any different from those who hold there is neither giving nor retribution? In this matter, their view is the same as that of non-Buddhists, and yet they fall short of non-Buddhists in several ways: Non-Buddhists each believe in their own teacher: what the teacher says is right, the disciple says is right; what the teacher says is wrong, the disciple says is wrong. The Mahāparinirvāṇa-sūtra says: 'Today I institute a rule for all disciples that they must not eat any meat.' The Vinaya says: 'Drinking wine incurs a prāyaścittika.' Now the monks and nuns drink wine and eat meat; this matter violates their Teacher's instructions. This is the first way they fall short of non-Buddhists. Furthermore, non-Buddhists, though deviant, uphold the bovine and canine vows; once they have received the vows, they do not violate them thereafter. Now those who have left renunciation, having received the precepts, treat them with contempt and transgress them. This is the second way they fall short of non-Buddhists. Furthermore, non-Buddhists, though scorching their bodies with five fires or throwing themselves into abysses and plunging into flames, do not necessarily devour sentient beings. Now those who have left renunciation devour fish and meat. This is the third way they fall short of non-Buddhists. Furthermore, non-Buddhists of other schools, though not according with the truth, each practice their teacher's dharma without concealment. Now those who have left renunciation devour fish and meat; among those who are close to them they blend in, while among those who are distant they hide and evade. Acting like this is the fourth way they fall short of non-Buddhists. Furthermore, non-Buddhists each value their own teaching, even saying, 'None is as true as our path'; before all different people they hold nothing in dread. Now those who have left renunciation devour fish and meat: sometimes they avoid their fellow students, sometimes they avoid their disciples, sometimes they avoid the white-robed laity, and sometimes they avoid monastery officers. Harboring narrow, devious intentions, they conceal themselves through winding paths. This is the fifth way they fall short of non-Buddhists. Furthermore, non-Buddhists act directly according to their inclinations; they can nurture the evils of their own followers, but cannot nurture the evils of other groups. Now those who have left renunciation devour fish and meat; before what their white-robed disciples hear and see, they have no inner shame, and instead embellish deviant discourses, saying, 'The Buddha's teaching as a principle originally envisions distant causes; as for the present day, it has not yet completely prohibited everything.' The foolish white-robed laity, hearing this spoken by monks, take it as truthful speech and thereupon believe and accept it, personally practicing unwholesomeness and augmenting all evils. This is the sixth way they fall short of non-Buddhists. Furthermore, non-Buddhists, though preaching what is not Dharma as Dharma, each believe in their scriptures and would die rather than transgress them. Now the Laṅkāvatāra-sūtra says: 'Killing living beings for profit, netting all meat with wealth—both actions are unwholesome, and at death one falls into the Raurava Hell.' What is meant by 'netting meat with wealth'? Setting snares and nets on land, and setting fishing nets in water—this is netting meat with nets. If one buys meat with money from butchers among people, this is netting meat with wealth. If one supposes that this person does not net meat with wealth, yet he adopts evil precepts and captures and harms living beings, would this person do so solely to feed his own mouth, or would he have other intentions as well? If he has other intentions, how could those who eat the meat be free from a share in the killing? How could they say, 'I do not kill living beings'? This clearly transgresses the sūtra text. This is the seventh way they fall short of non-Buddhists. Furthermore, non-Buddhists harmonize with those who share their teaching, and severely discipline those who differ from their teaching, commanding what is to be done and prohibiting what is not, so that none fail to comply. Now those who have left renunciation, whether acting as masters or as monastery officers, personally open the prohibition against wine and devour fish and meat; they are no longer able to administer admonitions. As soon as they want to speak, others mock and taunt them. Since their own persons have flaws, they cannot subdue others or make them practice the Great Vehicle. Simply letting things be, they merely tolerate conditions so that those residing in the monastery are at variance, and those receiving the Path become negligent. This is the eighth way they fall short of non-Buddhists. Furthermore, when non-Buddhists receive gifts from people, they receive them according to their own rules: those under the crow vows receive the crow-vow offerings; those under the deer vows receive the deer-vow offerings. A person under the crow vows never conceals his vows to receive the deer-vow offerings, nor does a person under the deer vows conceal his vows to receive the crow-vow offerings. Now those who have left renunciation say, 'I am capable of vigor; I am capable of asceticism,' temporarily concealing their appearance to deceive all the white-robed laity; when going out they drink wine, opening the gates of all evils, and when entering they devour meat, accumulating the root of all suffering. This is the ninth way they fall short of non-Buddhists. Furthermore, wine is a foul water-grain mixture that has lost its original nature to become this distinct taste. Sentient beings, on account of sinful karma, receive this foul contact. This is not the genuine Path or Dharma, nor is it the supreme flavor of amṛta. Why do ordained monks and nuns confer the five precepts on the white-robed laity, enjoining them not to drink wine and not to tell lies, yet conversely drink wine themselves, violating and breaking their sworn commitments? In the precepts for the seven classes, the eight precepts of fasting, the five categories and seven divisions, the long and short codes of discipline—under which heading does such a text appear? If white-robed people indulge in this mad medicine, one should still rebuke and stop them; how could those who have left renunciation drink it themselves? Falling into the Nirbudda Hell, their bodies will be like chunks of meat, devoid of consciousness. Who are these people? They are all ordained monks and nuns who drink wine. How can they not deeply believe in the sūtra teachings? How can they not feel inner shame, while still wearing the Tathāgata's robes, receiving the donations of the faithful from people, dwelling in stūpas and monasteries, and gazing up before the revered images? If they drink wine and eat meat, they fall short of householders: Although householders drink wine and devour meat, they commit no sin of violating precepts. This is the first way [clergy] fall short of householders. Although householders drink wine and devour meat, each has their own house, hill, or cave, and they never thereby look up and defile the revered images. This is the second way [clergy] fall short of householders. Although householders drink wine and devour meat, they never vomit or soil the monastery quarters. This is the third way [clergy] fall short of householders. Although householders drink wine and devour meat, they incur no criticism or suspicion; but if those who have left renunciation drink wine and devour meat, they cause people to disparage the Buddha's Dharma. This is the fourth way [clergy] fall short of householders. Although householders drink wine and devour meat, their gates, doors, wells, and stoves each pacify their own spirits.

2.29.2

If renunciants drink alcohol and eat meat, the foul stench steams and billows up so that all good spirits depart far away, while all the hordes of Māra rejoice. This is the fifth way in which they are inferior to householders. Although householders also drink alcohol and eat meat, they ruin their own property and do not ruin the property of others; when renunciants drink alcohol and eat meat, they ruin the good teachings for themselves and ruin the field of merit for others. This is the sixth way in which they are inferior to householders. Although householders also drink alcohol and eat meat, it is entirely provided through their own efforts; when renunciants drink alcohol and eat meat, it is entirely from the donations of the faithful. This is the seventh way in which they are inferior to householders. Although householders also drink alcohol and eat meat, it is an ordinary sinful karma and nothing out of the ordinary; when renunciants drink alcohol and eat meat, the hordes of Māra and non-Buddhists all find their opportunity. This is the eighth way in which they are inferior to householders. Although householders also drink alcohol and eat meat, they still do not lose their worldly livelihoods—though those who are heavily mired in stupor fail even at this; when renunciants drink alcohol and eat meat, whether much or little, they utterly cut off the seed of Buddhahood. This is the ninth way in which they are inferior to householders. Furthermore, one who eats meat cuts off the seed of great benevolence. In general, great benevolence causes all sentient beings equally to attain peace and happiness. If one eats meat, all sentient beings become one's adversaries, and all are equally deprived of peace and happiness. If one eats meat, one strays far from the teachings of śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas, strays far from the bodhisattva's fruition of Buddhahood, and strays far from the teachings of bodhi and nirvāṇa. If one eats meat, it obstructs rebirth in the six desire heavens, not to mention the four dhyānas, the four formless attainments, the thirty-seven factors of awakening, and the six pāramitās; it also obstructs the four great vows, the four means of embracing, all samādhis, the five eyes, the ten powers, and even unsurpassed bodhi. Why is this? If one eats meat, it obstructs the bodhimind; there are no bodhisattva teachings, no four immeasurable minds, and no great benevolence or great compassion. Because of these causes and conditions, the lineage of the sons of the Buddha is broken. Therefore the sūtras state: 'One who eats meat cuts off the seed of great benevolence.' Although you renunciants may not be able to practice great benevolence and great compassion, bring bodhisattva practice to perfection, and accomplish unsurpassed bodhi, why can you not endure this rank stench and cultivate the path of the Two Vehicles? Even jackals, dogs, and foxes know to relish meat; humans possess the greatest understanding and surpass all sentient beings—why should you share in relishing such foul stench alongside these beasts? As stated before, these are all remote matters, not yet immediate and pressing. Venerable monks and nuns! If one devours sentient beings, this is the conduct of Māra and the seed of hell. It is the causal condition for terrifying loss of life, scorching, and boiling; it is having one's skin and flesh flayed and peeled, one's hands and feet hacked off, one's belly ripped open and bowels scooped out, one's marrow crushed and eyes gouged out; it is poverty, lowliness, freezing, starving, ugliness, deafness, blindness, muteness, lameness, crippled limbs, carbuncles, and ulcers. All painful suffering and all saṃsāra arise from this conduct, down to the Black Rope, Crying, cold and heat, and the immeasurable extreme torments of Avīci, hungry ghosts, and beasts—all are the result of killing karma received as such retribution. Furthermore, you should contemplate a great matter: if one devours the parents of sentient beings, sentient beings will also devour one's parents in retribution; if one devours their children, sentient beings will likewise devour one's children in retribution. In this way, adversaries devour each other in retribution through long kalpas and endless night without cessation. As a sūtra states: there was a woman who killed the young of a wolf for five hundred lifetimes, and the wolf also killed her children for five hundred lifetimes. There was also a woman who cut off the life-root of a ghost for five hundred lifetimes, and the ghost likewise cut off her life-root for five hundred lifetimes. This is spoken in the sūtras and cannot but be believed; the rest of reciprocal retribution can be understood by analogy. Furthermore, there is another great matter that ought to be faithfully accepted: from the beginningless past down to this present life, we have passed through the six destinies and undergone every kind of retribution. All our close relatives have pervaded every place; simply because of passing through births and undergoing deaths, our conscious spirits are separated by barriers so that these kin no longer recognize one another. Today's sentient beings may have previously been our fathers, mothers, teachers, elders, brothers, sisters, children, grandchildren, and friends, yet today we lack the power of the eye of the Way and cannot discern them. We turn around and devour each other without realizing it ourselves. At the time of being devoured, this creature possesses a spirit; it immediately conceives resentment and hatred, turning once again into an adversary. What was once a most intimate relative turns once again into a foremost adversary! How could one fail to contemplate such a matter? For the brief satisfaction of the tongue and palate, a momentary trifle of flavor, to become adversaries forever with past relatives—this is truly heartbreaking, beyond words! Furthermore, you should contemplate another matter: anyone who devours sentient beings makes enemies of all sentient beings in this manner. These enemies pervade the six destinies; if one wishes to practice, they all become obstacles and difficulties. There are two kinds: obstacles in principle, and obstacles in phenomena. What are obstacles in principle? Through the causal conditions of karma, obstacles and difficulties arise of themselves, causing this practitioner to be foolish and lacking in wisdom, ignorant of the essential escape and devoid of expedient means. Even if meeting a good friend, they cannot faithfully accept [their teachings]; even if they faithfully accept them, they cannot practice them. As for obstacles in phenomena: these adversaries may be among evil ghosts and venomous beasts, or among divine nāgas and heavenly māras; in such various places they come to create hindrances. Even if one meets a good friend and faithfully accepts [the Dharma] with deep resolve, just as one is about to practice, difficulties arise again: either they lead one into heterodox paths, or they torment one to confuse the mind. In cultivating morality, concentration, and wisdom, and in cultivating all merits, one is constantly impure and never fulfilled. All these are past adversaries raising various retaliatory obstacles. Such matters should also be contemplated deeply. Your disciple Xiao Yan again respectfully addresses the venerable monks and nuns: your disciple Xiao Yan, before the Buddha, Dharma, and Saṃgha of the ten directions, joins with all monks and nuns to declare an oath. Today's assembly is a matter of great causes and conditions: not only are all Buddhas present here, and all the Dharma and Saṃgha present here, but the devas, the Four World-Protecting Kings, Guhyakapada Vajra, Maheśvara, General Saṃjñeya, and all the nāgas and spirits of the eight classes throughout the ten directions who possess great supernatural power and great majesty and virtue must all be present here, packing the empty sky. In this way, both the unseen and visible without exception observe and witness. The ancients had a saying: 'It is not knowledge that is difficult; the difficulty lies in putting it into practice.' Your disciple Xiao Yan shall today take the vow first to make clear my original resolve: from this day forward until reaching the bodhimanda, if I should drink alcohol, indulge in heedlessness, arouse lustful debauchery, deceive with false speech, devour sentient beings, or even drink milk, honey, butter, and curds, I vow that all ghosts and spirits shall first bitterly punish Xiao Yan's body, and then deliver me to King Yama of the hells to undergo various torments; even until all sentient beings have completely attained Buddhahood, may your disciple Xiao Yan remain in the Avīci Hell! If among the monks and nuns there are those who drink alcohol and eat meat—

2.29.3

And if they do not repent of their faults, all the mighty ghosts and spirits should likewise interrogate and punish them, so as to augment the multitude of the good and purify the Buddha-Path. If they have not yet been interrogated and punished by the underworld tribunal and are still in the world, I, your disciple Xiao Yan, shall interrogate and punish them in accordance with the law, expelling them into secular life and subjecting them to labor as needed. Your disciple Xiao Yan further addresses all the Venerable monks and nuns: I have just roughly set forth how fish and meat cause obstacles and encumbrances that incur bitter retribution. Now I wish once more to address you all with a word. The lifespan in Jambudvīpa is said to be one hundred and twenty years, yet one rarely hears of such a person in the world. Transitions and decays happen without pause, whether to the old or the young. A sūtra says: 'Within the space of a single thought-moment there are sixty kṣaṇas.' Saṃsāra is impermanent; one possesses the faculties only temporarily, and suddenly they decline and perish. The sufferings of the three paths and the like arrive in an instant; to wish to escape hell is exceedingly difficult. Even those of pure, majestic virtue still fear they may not escape; how much less could those who violate and break [the precepts] possibly escape? Venerable monks and nuns, you ought to know this matter: consuming fish and meat belongs entirely to the realm of Māra; it is to engage in the conduct of Māra. The mind will be unsettled, with many obstructions, and the hosts of māras within and without will conspire to trouble you. Therefore practitioners should reflect: it goes without saying that fish, meat, and liquor are the broth of Māra. Those who consume fish and meat and crave liquor are abandoned by the good spirits and lack correct energy within. For such persons, the Dharma mostly wanes into distress. If one’s mind is resolved, eating vegetarian food with utmost austerity, and great compassion perfumes one's mind, such persons are mostly supported by the power of goodness, and their Dharma will mostly be capable. Venerable ones, from this day forward, guide one another well! Cause those who have not yet attained it to attain it from now on. If you have already cultivated this practice, strengthen your resolve and power; if you have never practiced it, reform completely. Today let us together make seeds of bodhi. Do not take offense at what your disciple Xiao Yan has addressed to you." At that time, 1,448 monks and nuns gathered before the Hualin Hall. Dharma Master Yun of Guangzhai Monastery was ordered to ascend the high seat and preach one quarter of the "Chapter on the Four Marks" from the Nirvāṇa Sūtra, expounding the principle that eating meat cuts off the seed of great compassion. The Emperor himself sat on a mat on the ground to the north of the high seat. Later, two hundred doctrinal monks and nuns were also gathered at the Huaguang Hall. Monks learned in the Vinaya were ordered to ascend the high seat. The Emperor spread a mat on the ground, sat down, and issued an inquiry by imperial decree. He asked: "We have gathered the great assembly to investigate the meaning in the Vinaya. We hear monks say that in the Vinaya there is no regulation against eating meat, nor is there a rite of repentance for eating meat. How have you Vinaya masters guided people up to now, so as to cause people to harbor such doubts?" Vinaya Master Fachao answered reverently: "The teaching is one, but people receive it differently. Although the Vinaya permits three kinds of pure meat, the intention was to prohibit it forever. How do we know this? First it clarifies the prohibition of ten kinds of impure meat, next it causes one to eat the three kinds of pure meat, and finally it causes one to eat the nine kinds of pure meat. Such gradual prohibition indeed shows the intention was to cut it off forever." [The Emperor] also asked Sengbian. He replied: "It is only that the teachings have shallow and deep levels, guiding beings through progressive stages. In principle it is indeed an error, but the teaching had not yet reached its culmination." [The Emperor] asked again: "Does one who eats meat have a mind of compassion or no mind of compassion?" He replied: "This is not compassion." He asked again: "Does the Vinaya teaching intend to make people achieve liberation or not?" He replied: "It makes people achieve liberation." He asked again: "Does one who eats meat attain liberation or not?" He replied: "They do not." He also asked Vinaya Master Baodu: "What about you?" He replied: "What my foolish, deficient understanding grasps is that it is simply a gradual teaching. That is why the Vinaya text permits eating the three kinds of pure meat. In the Nirvāṇa [Sūtra], it ultimately does not permit eating meat. Those of sharp faculties, upon the teaching of the three kinds of pure meat, immediately cease to eat it; those of dull faculties await the later teaching." He also asked the bhikṣu Fachong: "If so, why do the monks still eat it?" He replied: "They should not eat it, but their desire for food runs deep." He asked again: "How should one repent?" He replied: "Sincerity and utmost earnestness of heart constitute repentance." He asked again: "After repenting, do they eat it or not?" He replied: "Those with much ignorance perhaps cannot avoid it." [The Emperor] said again: "To profess repentance beforehand and yet consume it nonetheless—this is to know and intentionally violate; it cannot be called shame. If beforehand one did not know, or if it was an inadvertent error, and only afterward did shame arise, that is genuine shame. Furthermore, once ashamed, one must not violate it again. If one violates it again, the sin is even greater." The Emperor went back and forth with the Venerable ones several times, and none could answer. He then ordered Jingyou to ascend the high seat and read such sūtras as the Laṅkāvatāra, Aṅgulimāla, and Nirvāṇa, clarifying the principle of prohibiting meat. After chanting the sūtra texts, the assembly concluded and they dispersed. That evening he also commanded the Leader of the Right Guards, Zhou She, saying: "What Fachong said about being ashamed while eating sentient beings—this is the female rākṣasa described in the sūtras who says, 'I love you, and I eat you.' Fachong’s mindset is precisely the rākṣasa of the sūtra." He also commanded She, saying: "Regarding what Sengbian said about meat from an animal that died naturally—if it were as he says, how is it that kites, crows, doves, and pigeons that dwell in the sky and are not immortal are never seen to die of themselves? Roes, deer, pheasants, and hares fill the fields and marshes, yet one has never seen a single one die of itself. Yet when people look for meat from a dead animal, they go to the slaughterhouse; when they look for dead fish, they inevitably go to the nets. The sūtras say that buying meat and killing it oneself are sins of the same order. I originally did not do this for myself; it is solely to create conditions for the monks and nuns to leave sin behind." He also commanded She, saying: "The reason why sentient beings must not be killed is that every single sentient being possesses eighty thousand families of worms; the sūtras also say there are eighty billion families of worms. If one cuts short the life of a single sentient being, one cuts short the lives of eighty thousand families of worms. As for why sentient beings that died naturally also must not be eaten: although the worms previously attached to them have already perished, the number of worms attached afterward is again vast. If boiled or roasted, none of these newly attached worms will survive. For a tiny taste on the tip of the tongue, one harms immeasurable sentient beings. Those among them that are small cannot be viewed with the fleshy eye; those that are large are clearly visible to all. This destroys the mind of compassion and increases malignant poison. This is truly not something that a śramaṇa, a disciple of the Śākya, should practice." He also commanded She, saying: "When the monks eat meat, they violate a precept of natural wrongdoing and also damage the Vinaya precepts. Speaking on this basis, there is a double sin. If it is learned monks who eat meat, this evil karma is twice as great as before. Why is this so? They personally violate the sūtra teachings, yet expound them to others; their mouths speak of compassion, yet their hearts harbor venomous harm. It is not that they do not know; they know and intentionally violate it. Words and actions contradict each other, thus becoming deception and falsehood. In terms of learning and eating meat, the sins are of three kinds. The reason why understanding the meaning is valued is precisely for practicing according to the teaching. Yet on the contrary, they consume fish and meat, cruel and oppressive to living beings, acting as bad spiritual friends and giving rise to many enmities."

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釋門自鏡錄 — Classical Chinese