集沙門不應拜俗等事 1.40

1.40

Second Reply:

I have received your letter with its repeated objections, fully taking in your noble ideas. This principle is subtle and abstruse, exceedingly difficult to express in words. Moreover, as this is a momentous affair of the present era, it must be thoroughly clarified in due time. My talent does not fathom the profound, and I especially lack analytical penetration; furthermore, the wondrous principle is difficult to attain with precision, which only increases my bewilderment. But since your noble words have arrived, I dare not remain silent, and so again presumptuously put forward my shallow views to make a clumsy reply to your instruction. Unable to elucidate your magnanimous intent, I am only uneasy and anxious, hoping you will also consult the various men of the Way who possess comprehensive talent to remedy my deficiencies.

You ask: "What is this shared purpose? If study and practice are taken as the shared purpose, then that which is studied only brings forth one's spontaneous nature. If the spontaneous nature has a source from which it is received, then the root of this spontaneity can be readily known." Now, I consider the shared purpose to be the supreme guide to which one aspires; study and practice are the daily fish-traps and hare-snares. Seeking now to reach that ultimate end, one cannot help but rely on the fish-traps and hare-snares to transport oneself. Thus we know that the effort one relies upon is not yet the ultimate realm. Those who accumulate learning to reach the ultimate must ascend from the coarse to the subtle; "once the fish is caught, the trap is discarded"—the principle is evident here.

You consider transformation through the miraculous to be easy, and the work of benevolence and righteousness to be difficult, asking why the sages would abandon the true way that is easy to engage in the non-essential affairs that are difficult to practice, concluding that its falsehood is also quite clear. In my view, the Buddha's teaching and the inner sages are eternally distinct; since they are distinct, their principles cannot be conflated. Now in discussing the Buddhist principle, one must naturally base one's words upon its own doctrine; only then can the paths of obstruction and unobstructed flow be examined in detail. The reason my former reply said that practices of benevolence and goodness and the principle of not killing seem to be compatible was merely to draw them into agreement on this point. As for setting forth arguments, the paths to which they lead are indeed difficult to unify.

Yet in my humble opinion, the Buddhist teachings are rather the more difficult! Why do I say this? Now, what the inner sages illuminate holds that if one utters good words, the response is like an echo, and if one's words are not good, people oppose them from a thousand li away. In this way, good and bad respond in an instant, and calamity and fortune confront one right before one's eyes. Moreover, practicing benevolence depends on oneself, and broadening it brings correctness; yet there are still those who abandon the upright to pursue the perverse, and turn their backs on the Way to follow their desires. How much more so when the Buddhist teaching compares a single lifetime to the snap of a finger and sets the final culmination in eternal kalpas, speaking of miracles beyond fixed status and positing retribution before any omen appears? To bring people to believe this—is it not exceedingly difficult? Therefore, since its transformation reached the Central Realm, those who realize it have been few. Thus the Benqi jing says: "True words seem paradoxical." This is what it means.