廣弘明集 23.47

23.47

The bhikṣuṇī Shi Jingxiu, originally of the Liang clan, was a native of Wushi in Anding. Her distant ancestry stemmed from Shaohao down to Boyi, who assisted Yu in controlling the floods and was bestowed the surname Ying. In the time of King Xiao of the Zhou, his sixteenth-generation descendant Feizi was enfeoffed in Qin. His great-grandson Qin Zhong became a regional lord under King Xuan. When King Ping moved the capital east, he enfeoffed Qin Zhong's youngest son in Liang, who became Earl of Liang. In the reign of Emperor Jing of the Han, Liang Lin served as Grand Administrator of Taiyuan and moved his household to Beidi, whence the family became locals of Wushi. From that time forth they flourished across generations, where illustrious virtues shone in succession and high-ranking caps of office were handed down in uninterrupted brilliance. In the first year of the Yuanjia era of the Han, Liang Jing served as Prefect of the Masters of Writing; in his youth he had mastered the Han School of the Odes, becoming a renowned classicist of his age. In the Wei dynasty, Liang Shuang served as Left Senior Clerk to the Minister of Education and Palace Library Director; having extensively studied the myriad books, he excelled at discussing profound principles. During the Taishi era of the Jin, Liang Chan served as Inspector of the two provinces of Liang and Yong; he was the nun's grandfather. Chan's grandson Hui served as Adjutant of the General of Agile Cavalry under the Jin Prince of Fanyang, Sima Xiao, and as Grand Administrator of Yuyang. Meeting with the chaos of the Yongjia era, he was swept into the Illegitimate Zhao, serving as Palace Library Director and Senior Clerk of the General Pacifying the South; later he was able to return to the Jin and served as Sanqi Shilang (Attendant Gentleman). His son Chou, courtesy name Daodu, was Adjutant to the General Subduing Bandits. Chou's son Canzhi served the Song, being an Adjutant in the office of the General Subduing Bandits and enfeoffed as the Capital Pavilion Marquis of Longchuan County. The nun was the fourth daughter of this Capital Pavilion Marquis. She had possessed extraordinary wisdom throughout countless kalpas, realizing subtle insight in her present life. By nature gentle, harmonious, and broad-minded, she was unlike ordinary young children. In her early years her spirit was keen and clear, not belonging to the rank of common youths. She practiced benevolence, esteemed the Way, and cleansed her aspirations within the Dharma gate. By the age of ten, her compassionate thoughts grew ever more earnest: she renounced the adornments of powder and rouge, cast aside the playthings of brocade and silk, chanted the sūtras, practiced the Way, and maintained a continuous fast eating only vegetables. At twelve, she asked to leave the household, but her family strictly restrained her and would not grant permission. Thereupon she prayed inwardly for unseen response, concentrating single-mindedly on this sole thought. Consequently, she repeatedly received auspicious omens and miraculous signs descended time and again. Her fourth paternal uncle, Chao, was the only one with foresight; he enlightened both family and outsiders, and thus her lofty vow was eventually fulfilled. She was by nature intelligent and sagacious, surpassing the crowd since childhood. When she was seven years old, she naturally kept the fasts. When monks were invited to the house to perform services, she heard the recital of the Mahāparinirvāṇa-sūtra forbidding the eating of meat; thereupon she permanently ate only vegetables and did not consume flesh. Her parents realized this, for if she was given fish or meat, she would immediately discard it. In former times, there was a foreign practitioner named Pulian who appeared in the capital and frequented the Liang household. She took the five precepts from him, diligently and reverently observing them without ever violating them. Day and night, she took prostrations, reading, and chanting as her constant vocation, with no other concern. When her hand could write, she frequently copied sūtras herself. All her wealth and goods were solely applied to merit-making, never pursuing mundane delights. Wanting to enter the Way early in life, her parents obstructed her, so the months and years slipped by. Only at the age of twenty-nine did she attain her wish, shedding her worldly attire at Qingyuan Nunnery and submitting herself to the abbess. She served her teacher with devout filial piety, anticipating her wishes and complying with her instructions; though expending all her bodily strength, she still feared falling short. Personally cultivating the three modes of karma day and night without negligence, she was always at the forefront of the monastic chores and collective labor. Energetic and diligent, she was involved in everything. There was a bodhisattva-practitioner, Master Ma, who saw her at Qingyuan and immediately prophesied, 'This nun will surely be reborn in the Tuṣita Heaven.' Once, while she was sitting in meditation in the main hall of the temple together with two others, suddenly a sound like a bull's roar was heard in the air. The other two nuns were terrified, faint and trembling, but she remained calm and composed as usual. She slowly rose from her seat, returned to her chamber, and took a candle to search for where the sound came from. Upon returning to the balustrade, the two nuns heard voices on the hall saying to each other, 'Step aside! Master So-and-so is returning.' Later, while sitting in the meditation hall with several companions, one nun was snoring in her sleep. In her dream, this nun saw a person whose head reached the roof, saying, 'Do not disturb Master So-and-so.' Thereupon that nun did not dare to sit again. On another occasion during meditation, a companion nun had a minor errand and wanted to step down from her seat for a moment; she saw a person clapping his hands to stop her, saying, 'Do not disturb Master So-and-so.' Thereupon, holding her breath, she slowly exited, sighing at such an unprecedented marvel. Events of this sort were exceedingly numerous; since they were not recorded at the time, many have been forgotten and lost, and cannot all be recorded here. By nature she took the monastic precepts seriously, seeking to comply with them in every movement and demeanor. Thereupon she personally invited Vinaya Master Yao to lecture. She thought to herself that she only had one thousand coins and worried within her heart that the matter could not be accomplished. That night she dreamed that crows, magpies, mynas, and sparrows were each riding in carriages, all of which had eaves, the size of each carriage matching the form of the bird. In unison they proclaimed, 'We are going to assist Master So-and-so in her lecture!' Upon waking, she was overjoyed, knowing that the affair would succeed. When the lecture commenced, she indeed received offerings from seventy patrons, the fruit and food being exquisite. Later, she further invited Vinaya Master Ying to open the Vinaya teachings. When the lecture began, the water in the pure jar naturally smelled fragrant, like the scent of the Udaka Garden; she was deeply delighted. Afterward, while sitting in meditation, she attained absorption and only rose at midnight. There were no other companions, so she thought to herself, 'Might I have incurred a contact transgression?' She immediately consulted the Vinaya master, who replied, 'You have committed no violation.' Still feeling hesitant and fearing some lapse, and seeing that the nuns in various temples mostly did not follow the proper rules, she sighed and lamented, 'Alas! The great vestige [of the Buddha] is not far gone, yet the spiritual line has gradually declined. Unless I take the blame and rebuke myself, how can I guide others?' She immediately repented and undertook the mānāpya penance. Thereupon, among both assemblies in the capital, none failed to exclaim, 'Even a person like this, whose practice of the Vinaya is pure and clear, and whose decorum accords with the Dharma, still reflects on faults like this! How much more should we, who make numerous errors in movement and rest, feel ashamed!' Consequently, leading one another, all repented without exception. Furthermore, she received the precepts from Vinaya Master Ying at Nanyuan. On the very day she received the precepts, the fragrance of the water in the pure jar was again as before. All the nuns of Qingyuan and other temples subsequently renewed their reception of the precepts. The Vinaya master then visited the temples in succession, expounding the precept items and propagating the great teaching. Hence the disciplinary models flowed far and wide down to the present day. Vinaya Master Ying also instructed her to admonish the nuns of various temples that all high seats and worldly dress must be altered. Receiving the instruction, she enforced the restraint, and none failed to respectfully comply. The revival of the Vinaya piṭaka began anew from this. Later, she also received the precepts from a Tripiṭaka Dharma Master, and the fragrant pure water was again as before, no different from Qingyuan. Because the congregation grew vast, their views differed. Her master had already passed away and there was no one to attend upon; she thus thought of establishing a separate dwelling place where she could outwardly uphold the sacred rules with solemnity and inwardly fathom quiet seclusion. In the eighth month of the seventh year of the Daming era of the Song (463 CE), the late Lady of Cultivated Deportment Huang and the Princess of Nanchang, who deeply revered the Three Jewels and held her virtuous conduct in high esteem, first established a monastery. Clad in hemp garments that gave no warmth and eating pulse leaves while forgetting hunger, she personally handled mud and tiles, exerting all her diligence morning and night. In the third year of the Taishi era of the Song, Emperor Ming bestowed the name Zhanlin (Meditation Forest), which was indeed a manifest sign of her fondness for seclusion evoking an unseen response. In making niches and crafting statues, she left nothing incomplete; she also had all the sūtras copied and gathered, ensuring they were fully provided for. When the cinnabar and yellow mountings were completed, the two brothers of the Sāgara Dragon King naturally manifested traces that did not fade for days. Acquaintances coming and going all witnessed it with their own eyes. She took in and accommodated more than ten companions, instructing and leading them to all engage in meditation and recitation. Whenever holy monks were invited, there were invariably miraculous traces upon the fruit and food. On another occasion, she reverently invited the holy assembly for a seven-day offering. Just after completing the prostrations and repentance, she collected her mind and exercised contemplation; she then saw two foreign practitioners raising their hands and talking to each other, one saying 'Khara' and the other 'Vikhara.' The kāṣāya robes they wore were of the color of ripe mulberries. Thereupon, she took mud to dye the robes, making them like what she had seen. At this, nuns far and near emulated her and changed to mixed-color robes, thereby avoiding the fault of the five primary colors and distinguishing the religious from the laity. After this, she invited the five hundred arhats of Lake Anavatapta to a daily non-obstruction great assembly of both ordinary beings and saints. When nearly two decades had passed with abundant offerings, she further invited the five hundred arhats of the kingdom of Kaśmīra, making the total a thousand; ordinary monks were also invited following the previous method. Just one day later, a foreign practitioner was seen whom none of the monks recognized. When they tested him with inquiries, he said, 'I come from the kingdom of Kaśmīra.' When asked, 'How long have you been here?' he replied, 'It has only been one year since I came.' The monks found it strange and sent someone to watch the gate to observe his movements. After finishing his meal, he went out from the Songlin Gate. A person was sent to follow and watch him; he was seen leaving from the Songlin Gate, and after walking more than ten paces, he vanished abruptly. Once, when she invited holy monks, the bath basin was filled with fragrant warm water and various supplies, whereupon prostrations were performed. Inside and out, it was completely quiet. Suddenly the sound of a ladle knocking against the basin was heard, as in the manner of using water. Thinking that someone might have come out, they went together to look, but only saw the water ladle rocking naturally by itself; thus they knew it was a miraculous sign. Also, once in the night she suddenly saw the entire room filled with light. Thinking it was already dawn, she got up and opened the door, only to see that it was still dark outside; she then closed the door and returned to bed, sleeping for a long while before it became light. On another occasion, when she fell ill and was severely afflicted, she suddenly saw a great radiance pervading the world, mountains, rivers, and trees boundless and unobstructed. She smiled alone in delight. Those beside her found it strange and asked, so she detailed what she had seen. She was then able to rise, walk, perform prostrations, and chant as usual. At another time, she fell ill again and was in extreme distress. She suddenly raised both hands as if holding something. Her companions did not understand and asked, 'What are you holding?' She replied, 'I see a jeweled pagoda emerging from the earth; I wish to receive it. Banners, flowers, and instrumental music are all present.' Thereupon her illness vanished completely, without any further suffering. Again she fell ill, and for several days it was extremely severe and exhausting. She constantly looked toward the east with palms joined toward the sky. At one moment, she urgently asked for incense and fire, keeping her palms joined for a long time. She then recounted, 'I saw Maitreya Buddha together with Śāriputra, Maudgalyāyana, and other saints; I also saw an immeasurable number of disciples filling the sky. In an instant, I saw Maitreya descend to be born in the city of Ketumatī, saying that people were holding banners, flowers, instrumental music, and three platforms coming to welcome me. Here, the banners, flowers, and instrumental music were beyond any worldly comparison, resting midway in the sky. One platform was already halfway on the road, one had not yet reached halfway, and one was not yet seen, only heard of.' At that time, two platforms had already been made, so on account of this omen she had one more platform made. She also said, 'There are two trees with jeweled flowers beside me.' When people approached the bed, she said, 'Do not damage my flowers.' From then on, her illness abated. Whenever she fell ill before and after, there were always auspicious omens: either she received a cool breeze, or wonderful medicine, or smelled a rare fragrance, and the illness would immediately heal. Her recovery was consistently through such gradual and complete clearance; this happened so many times that it cannot all be recorded. In the third year of the Tianjian era (504 CE), she was ill for an entire summer. While sleeping during the day, she saw Ākāśagarbha Bodhisattva, who circled her and chanted hymns; the sound of the hymns penetrated outside, and upon waking, her ailment was immediately gone. Also, while resting in the daytime, she opened her eyes and saw the Buddha enter her room, with banners and parasols filling the room. She told those beside her to burn incense, but they could see nothing. On the seventeenth day of the sixth month of the fifth year of the Tianjian era (506 CE), she fell gravely ill, feeling oppressed at heart and unable to drink. On the night of the nineteenth day of the sixth month, Dharma Master Ling of Pengcheng Temple had a dream in which he saw a place he thought was the Tuṣita Heaven; its dwelling was solemn and magnificent beyond worldly comparison, and he was told that this was her dwelling place. He then saw her inside. The Dharma master then said to her, 'Since you have been born in an excellent place, please guide and receive me. I am your humble patron of the Aṣṭasāhasrikā; do not abandon me.' She replied, 'You, Dharma Master, are a man who also propagates the scriptures and teachings; you should naturally dwell in a superior place. What benefit can I, a woman, provide?' The Dharma master said again, 'It is not so. Though I am a man, I cannot be diligent, and my observance of the precepts is inferior to yours.' At that time, her condition had deteriorated, and since she was not personally close to Dharma Master Ling, they could not meet. As the illness worsened and her intake of gruel decreased daily, treatments were useless and she grew increasingly exhausted. By the twelfth day of the seventh month, it rained and turned cool, and the feeling of oppression seemed to subside slightly. She said she had dreamed of being welcomed to the western end of the Buddha hall, where everyone held banner poles like carriages on the ground, the banners looking no different from the drums, banners, and flags carried by worldly armies. By the twentieth day, she ceased drinking gruel altogether. On the twenty-second day, she ordered that acquainted monks be invited to hold an assembly, as if taking leave. On the twenty-fifth day, she said she saw the Buddhas of the ten directions filling the sky. After midday on the twenty-seventh day, she lay still and unconscious; after the time it takes to cook two meals, she moved again and said, 'I went up to the Tuṣita Heaven and saw Maitreya and all the bodhisattvas, all of golden hue. In my hands was a pure lapis lazuli jar, about three feet high, which I offered to Maitreya, who then emitted light that illuminated my body. In the Tuṣita Heaven, no food or drink was seen, yet one is naturally filled; thus human food is no longer needed. I only smell human food as foul, which is why I refuse to eat.' In that heaven she had obtained a crystal cake and was bringing it back, intending to give it to Dharma Master Ling. Someone asked, 'Why are you taking the cake away?' She answered, 'I want to give it to Dharma Master Ling.' This person said, 'Dharma Master Ling has the karmic retribution of a human; how can he eat heavenly food?' and did not allow her to take it. Afterwards, wishing to see Dharma Master Ling at his leisure dwelling, she had him brought to meet her and said to him, 'You may prepare good vegetarian meals to supply the meditation practitioners in the mountains. Only by cultivating the three modes of karma can one be born in the Tuṣita Heaven. You do not practice meditation, so I have you prepare food to supply the practitioners on the mountain, hoping to create a karmic connection with the meditators.' From the beginning of the eighth month, her condition deteriorated further and she spoke of nothing else, only saying, 'There are thirty-two boys, the first named Guṇadevatā (Merit Deva) and the second named Śrī-mahādevī (Good Woman Deva); they are led by Kapila and constantly attend beside me, at my beck and call.' Or she would say, 'I have received food offerings from others; distribute them among the assembly.' She also said, 'Music is played in the sky day and night, disturbing one's ears.'