廣弘明集 4.17

4.17

The master said, “I have heard that great music does not enter the ears of the vulgar; does this not prove it? You still seek to peer at the heavens through an inch of pipe and measure the ocean with a tiny conch. Yet our Dharma-gate is supremely transcendent; it is not something you, my friend, can fathom. Relying on divine power, I will speak of it further for you. The converting path of our teacher is vast and magnanimous, and his spiritual potter’s wheel extends far and wide. It is only that sentient beings have meager conditions and create limitations and obstacles for themselves. What does this have to do with the Buddha’s majesty not being great, or the sage’s bounty not being impartial? It is like the sun and moon hanging their images and gracing the heavens, or thunder sounding and shaking the earth; that they are lost upon the deaf and blind, is it because their light is faint or their sound is small? Indeed, when the Buddha traveled in Śrāvastī for over two decades, among three hundred million households there were still those who did not hear or see him; why find it strange across a hundred thousand miles of borderlands? I observe that the Duke of Zhou and Confucius were born originally only in the cities of Huaxia; why is it that the barbarians did not believe in their principles? As for Dongfang Shuo ascending to heaven and the King of Huainan entering the registers of the immortals, men who rode simurghs and cleaved the mist have indeed existed in this world; yet because [historians] did not value divine immortals, they kept it hidden and did not record it. How then could they understand the savor of our teacher’s path and arts, and record them in trustworthy histories? Furthermore, having met with the burning of the texts under the First Emperor of Qin, the classical records are incomplete. How can one cling to such limited writings and thereby lack great vision? Yet there are those who turn away from the genuine and true, willfully following the worldly; failing to realize that the body is impure, how could they understand that life is impermanent? In clothing and toys, several layers do not suffice; in stinginess and greed, they cannot part with a single hair. How pitiful are these petty, stubborn people! Having already ceased preserving my physical form, who would attend to dazzling vanities? My hair already shorn, my mind is naturally subdued; my garments are of decayed color alone, so whence could passionate love arise? Therefore, with five patches one maintains contemplation, and throughout the six periods of the day one focuses mindfulness. Calmly aloof beyond worldly things, this is called going against the stream. I have heard that when Yu of Xia dredged the rivers, his hands and feet were worn with toil; when Mo Di benefited creatures, he did not begrudge his crown or heels. Destroying the body to achieve benevolence, or starving to death to preserve righteousness—all these run contrary to great filial piety, yet they are lavishly praised across the host of writings. How much more so when I nourish my nature, dwell in the arcane, establish myself, and practice the Way! Just as I desire to deliver the six destinies extensively and aspire on high to the myriad virtues, how could a student be confined by petty details and look back at the mere matter of skin and hair? Fan the flames of pursuing fame and glory—those are other concerns; they belong to facing north in court. But if one’s merit is shallow and stipend meager, one’s only labor is answering and running about; if one’s achievements are lofty without leisure and one’s station reaches the peak, one constantly fears danger, overflow, and instability. Casting away a pearl of a thousand fathoms—how cheaply one values the treasure! Yet the lotus within the fire is not something I can produce; how could you understand being stained yet unstained?” The young master said, “You, master, forcibly flaunt rhetoric to embellish errors, shielding the caltrop-overgrown wall instead of sweeping it clean. Please listen to a candid critique harsh to the ear, summarily listing four of your abuses. I have heard that jade trees do not form a grove with reeds, and majestic phoenixes do not flock with swallows and sparrows. Although your master’s Way is subtle and wondrous, why are his disciples alone so vulgar and base? Some are ugly in appearance and humble in clan; some are of lowly kind and dark in spirit. They possess neither the three arts to join the ranks of gentlemen, nor ten mou of land to be commoners. Neglecting royal affairs through incompetence, and ashamed that their private households cannot be established, they take refuge and evade labor service within Buddhist monasteries, barely finding room beneath the Dharma robes. When meeting people, they cannot exchange courtesies; when chanting scriptures, they do not understand correct pronunciation and meaning. In vain they know only to harbor pride toward the common folk and turn their backs on propriety toward their two parents. This is not the way to honor oneself; that is the first abuse. I have heard that the frugality of untrimmed rafters and earthen steps was how Tang Yao nurtured the people, while the extravagance of jasper rooms and jade terraces was how Xin of Shang corrupted customs. Furthermore, the Tathāgata’s conduct is only fewness of desires, and the root of his virtue is great compassion. He ought only to sit peacefully among graves and practice walking meditation beneath trees. Why should one adorn nine-story stūpas and erect seven-jewel terraces, neither pitying the labor of the builders nor feeling ashamed of the ease of the dwellers? This is not the way to exercise restraint; that is the second abuse. I have heard that not boasting of one’s own merit was the ultimate teaching of Lao Dan, and not praising one’s own virtues is the Buddha’s own standard maxim. When one is toiling and humble, the gentleman meets with ultimate good fortune; when one overcomes oneself to yield, the sage attains supreme beauty. If internal virtue is truly abundant, it will naturally resound outward; friends and companions will vie to respond, bringing praise while one sits still. How much more so for the Buddha’s mind, which is limpid and still, devoid of all faults of gain and loss? Why then does he alone assume the title of World-Honoured One, refusing to yield to others? Moreover, the non-dual tenets across those various scriptures each claim to be the foremost; self-contradictions arise on their own—how can they be resolved? This is not the way to be humble; that is the third abuse. I have heard that holding fast to the two treasures and being mindful of the four knowns constitute the refined feelings of a man of understanding and the lofty integrity of an upright scholar. They distribute their wealth among their kin or cast it away amidst mountains and waters. How much more so for the arcane Way, which is pure and immaculate! Yet monks who have turned from the world indulge instead in insatiable demands, coveting worldly profits. In exhorting laypeople, they urge them not to hold back even their marrow and brain; yet when discussing donations, they do not concede a fraction. When high nobility pass by or eminent guests arrive, instead of receiving them with an empty, humble mind, they first display multiples of their own offerings. This is a common ailment shared by all men of understanding, known to all within the seas. This is not the way to maintain integrity; that is the fourth abuse. Although my forthright words are bitter, they may serve as medicinal stone. I only hope, master, that with your high vision you will examine them in detail.”