廣弘明集 22.40

22.40

The doubting gentleman addressed the Master of Penetrating Keenness, saying: 'When the two cosmic forces were first divided, all categories of beings came to depend upon them; once the seven luminaries were hung, the myriad people looked up to them. Yet what lies before birth and after death was left unclarified by the diagrams of the Changes; through antiquity and down to the present, sages and worthies have failed to fathom it. Thus gentlemen aspiring to the dark mystery vie in pursuing their inquiries, and famed men cherishing underlying principles compete in far-fetched analyses. In what Master Yu expounded, spontaneity was profusely defended; in what Master Jia made clear, retribution was loftily proclaimed. Although the spears and arrows of spontaneity were victorious at first, the shields and lances of retribution suffered defeat later. Still, the foolish mind is difficult to awaken and clouded consciousness easily goes astray. When the two principles intersect, it is unknown which is right.' The Master of Penetrating Keenness clapped his hands and replied: 'Examining the pure treatises of the two gentlemen, each indeed commands only a partial corner. Spontaneity relies on Laozi and Zhuangzi, while retribution takes its ancestry from the Duke of Zhou and Confucius. It can be said that Chu has already lost it, yet Qi has not gained it either. Now I shall weigh and present it for you, sir. In the Three Graves and the Five Canons, the principles of good and evil are not made manifest; in the Eight Cords and Nine Hills, the pathways between the hidden and manifest remain obstructed. How much more so for the arrogant clerk of the lacquer garden, who in bewildered madness alone claimed to capture the ancestor of creation and partiality based himself upon spontaneous nature! That was merely an expedient to correct the vulgarities of his era, not a profound design in accord with ultimate truth. Now permit me to ask: toward what does the root of spontaneity tend? Does it possess cause and effect, or is it devoid of cause and effect? If one says that spontaneity still allows discussion of cause and effect, this is like spear and shield countering each other: two statements consuming each other, laughed at by fools and lamented by the wise. Collapsing on its own, it needs no further refutation. If one says that there is never retribution and that cause and effect are completely cut off, then the way between ruler and subject, father and son, would no longer function; what use would there be in words like benevolence, righteousness, filial piety, and compassion? One would then commit evil and invite blessings, or do good and bring about calamity. Drilling for fire would yield ice, and planting beans would grow wheat! One has never seen a harmonious sound produce an unruly echo, or a bent form cast an upright shadow. If you consider Fangxun, a supreme sage, having bred a Danzhu, and Chonghua, possessing utmost virtue, having been born to Gu Sou, as being so purely through spontaneity, I would quietly not accept that from you. The way of closest kin is called heavenly nature, yet each individual follows their own karmic deeds without any mutual bearing. Yao and Shun cultivated virtue in past lives, and thus received this spiritual wisdom; Gu Sou harbored evil in previous existences, and thus incurred this stubborn stupidity. Yet they bound heavy ties together and reciprocally brought them to manifestation, wishing to reveal the sage by means of the commoner and transform the foolish by means of the wise. Without the wickedness of Gu Sou, how could one know the beauty of harmonious reconciliation? Were it not for the sage Fangxun, who could have transformed the evil of unrestrained arrogance? Thus Ānanda and Devadatta were both cousins of the World-Honoured One, and Rāhula and Sunakṣatra were both descendants of the Tathāgata. Yet Ānanda was constantly in close attendance, whereas Devadatta repeatedly plotted harm and treason; Rāhula protected the jewel and never violated it, whereas Sunakṣatra was like a broken vessel impossible to mend. Viewed from this, it may surely be known! If one says that each has an innate self-nature that cannot be altered or exchanged, this is utterly untrue. Consider when a hawk transforms into a dove, its original nature is completely gone; when a sweet orange changes into a bitter trifoliate orange, its prior flavor is forever lost. In poverty today after being wealthy in the past, how can the principle of a fixed nature hold sway? Noble before and base later, where is the doctrine of an endowed destiny? Lü Wang was a butcher of cattle, yet ultimately enjoyed the position of Grand Tutor; Yi Yin was a man carrying cooking vessels, yet finally ascended to Prime Minister. Dai Yuan was a menace to his four neighbors, but later gained an illustrious name; Zhou Chu was the foremost of the three perils, yet in his later years was praised for splendid virtue. King Ajātaśatru committed sins deserving Avīci, yet turned about and changed his ways; King Aśoka committed the gravest of transgressions, yet suddenly could honor the good. If one relied on the principle of self-nature, how could such meaning ever be admitted? Good people should only cultivate good, incapable of generating evil for a single instant; evil people should constantly generate evil on their own, with no room to give rise to good even in a single thought. This would mean that flourishing and withering, favor and disgrace, would all be bound to inevitability, and that the foolish and wise, noble and base, could never reform. Could this truly be so? It is decidedly not so! Furthermore, if one considers that a person cultivating virtue contrarily incurs sorrow and distress, or that one practicing good conversely meets ruin, and takes this to be spontaneous destiny, this too is not so. If one practices good while expecting a reward, one is all the farther from goodness; if one cultivates virtue to seek renown, one strays even more distantly from virtue. If one indeed displays the nature of ceremonial jade and harbors the heart of precious jade, originally having no intention toward fame and renown and never delighting in wealth and honor, then a distinguished reputation will certainly be modest while elegant blessings only then arrive. Or perhaps, not yet encountering one who understands their worth, they are like useless timber; failing to meet one who recognizes jade, they remain like sunken mud. Temporarily lying dormant like a dragon, there is no flaw in their phoenix-like virtue. How could they allow themselves to be agitated in the realm of heaven and earth or tossed about in the secular world? Naturally they can adhere firmly to poverty without falling into dejection. Take Taibo, whose lofty yielding diffused fragrance for a thousand generations; or Zhongni, whose destitution transmitted his name for myriad ages. Yan Hui was said to have died young merely because the lifespan resulting from his karmic deeds was not long. Ran Geng contracted that disease surely because the causes of the sickness were not yet severed. The execution of the two sons brought further to light the wickedness of Duke Ling of Wei; the murder of the three benevolent men only then made visible the transgression of King Zhou of Yin. Starvation on Shouyang Mountain could not escape the blame of seeking renown; drowning in the Mi River still left the fault of harboring resentment. Moreover, determinate karma cannot be rescued by spiritual powers; when retribution must be received, how could holy wisdom avert it? All arise from past causes, not from present deeds. If one claims that those who make butchery their occupation live to a hundred years, or that those who harbor thievery amass wealth by the hundreds of millions, and regards this as being so by fixed nature, this too is something I have not understood. This is because a sliver of goodness in a past life induced such lifespan and wealth, while the grave calamities of their present life have not yet invited their fruition. Because their guilt is already great, the suffering they must receive should be manifold; therefore their punishment is temporarily deferred and their evil is allowed to run its course. Once their misfortune is full and their offenses have accumulated, the nest will be overturned and the eggs smashed; they will forever return to the boiling cauldrons of Niraya and eternally abide in the Avīci hell. Thus the classic says: 'Unless evil is accumulated, it is insufficient to destroy one's person.' This is what it refers to. There are also instances where fruit and retribution are manifestly invited, matters immediately evident to seeing and hearing. When Wang Mang usurped and rebelled, his head was hung from the Gradual Terrace; when Dong Zhuo was fierce and cruel, his corpse was exposed in the city market. The Marquis of Jin murdered Zhao Shuo and suffered the sorrow of falling into the latrine; the Lord of Qi harmed Pengsheng and bore the agony of tumbling from his chariot. The overthrow of the Xia mandate was the sin of Jie; the destruction and loss of the Yin dynasty was the fault of Zhou. Therefore know that the principle of cause and effect is complex and hard to gauge; the law of karmic retribution is uneven and unfixed. These are what are called retribution in the next life, retribution in the present life, and retribution in subsequent lives.'