集沙門不應拜俗等事 6.46

6.46

Shi Yancong states: Why do śramaṇas not bow to laypeople? Renunciation and worldly life belong to different streams; inner and outer have distinct divisions. Abiding in the fundamental and embodying the ultimate, they quiet their thoughts and forget their bodies; they do not urgently seek life, nor do they anxiously conform to transformations. Their feelings transcend the universe; their traces lodge within the realm. This is why they stand as equals in ceremonial protocol before the imperial dwelling and turn their backs on the natural ties of heavenly kinship. The transformation of things cannot alter their transformation; the generation of life cannot encumber their lives. Making a deep bow with clasped hands before ruler and parents—this is the great purport. If one deduces it from human affairs and investigates it in ancient glosses, there are ten precedents for why they should not bow. As for gazing in rank at mountains and rivers and sacrificing to Heaven and Earth at the suburban altar, desiring to benefit beings, the ruler exhausts his sincerity. Now, the Three Jewels abide, and the refuges and precepts are widely beneficial; their assistance to transformation across the unseen and the manifest can be briefly stated. These belong to the category of spiritual deities. He who acts as the impersonator of sacrifice must harmonize with the temple lineage; slaughtering the sacrificial victim and presenting the cooked offerings, at that time he does not act as a subject. Now, the Three Jewels are of one essence; revering monks is like revering the Buddha, as fully set forth in the inner scriptures without needing verbose explanation. These belong to the category of the sacrifice master. The rulers of Qi and Song were the descendants of the two kings; valued by the sovereigns, they were revered as state guests. Now monks are the heirs of the Dharma King; the sovereign has received the Buddha's entrustment to encourage the fourfold assembly to advance in cultivating the three practices. These belong to the category of state guests. In valuing the Way and venerating the teacher, one does not act as a subject; even when summoning the Son of Heaven, one does not face north. Now śramaṇas transmit the Buddha's supreme teaching, guiding the ordinary and instructing beings; honoring the teacher and respecting learning—does it not reside in this? These belong to the category of Confucian conduct. The *Rites* say: 'An armored person does not bow down, because he would lose the decorum of manners'; hence Zhou Yafu made a deep bow with clasped hands to Emperor Wen of the Han. Now śramaṇas wear the armor of forbearance on their bodies to conquer and sever the army of desires, and hold the sword of wisdom in their hands with the intent to crush mental confusion. These belong to the category of the armored. When divining the heir and selecting the guests, one honors the forebear and crowns the heir at the eastern steps; mothers and elder brothers bow down, using ritual to establish him as an adult. Now śramaṇas take the Great Dharma as their personal responsibility, delivering the multitude of beings from mire and charcoal; reverently observing the bequeathed traces, they act as the direct heirs of the lineage ancestors. These belong to the category of transmitting the weight. Yao was described as modeling himself after Heaven, yet he did not bend the high integrity of Yingyang; Wu was completely beautiful, yet in the end he preserved the purity of Guzhu. Now śramaṇas hold their pursuits aloft and do not serve kings or lords; shedding the cicada shell amid noise and dust, they bring themselves beyond the worldly sphere. These belong to the category of recluses. Those who violate the five punishments, are secured in the three wooden instruments, are flogged, or are bound in iron are not reproached for failing to perform full etiquette. Now śramaṇas shave their hair, cut off offspring, alter their appearance, and change their clothes. These belong to the category of severe punishment. Furthermore, though imperial envoys be of low rank, receiving heavenly orders makes them noble; though śramaṇas were lowly, receiving the Buddha's command they should be revered. How much more so when their virtue moves the unseen and the manifest, their transformation moistens dragons and ghosts, quieting the waves of suffering in the realms of humans and gods, and purifying the scorching vapors of all beings! Their merit is already vast, their grace is also immense. How could we make this dust-transcending assembly bow down and encumber ruler and parents, reducing this free and unbound class to identity with the Teaching of Names alone? In my youth I was devoted to these matters; growing up, I searched extensively, gathering surviving exploits from green bamboo tablets and compiling former fragrances from sweat-treated canes. Moreover, moved by the setting light of the Buddha Sun, I exhausted my tiny torch of light to compose words, hoping to transmit them to posterity and curious scholars. Furthermore, the writings and treatises of past and present all speak of 'not revering' (bujing). Relying on this single character, I am privately puzzled. Why? Reverence reaches the heart; the *Summary of Rites* says 'there is nothing in which reverence is absent.' Bowing is merely bodily bending; the Zhou dynasty set forth the etiquette of nine bows. Moreover, before the majesty of ruler and father, reverence of heart must not be absent; but bodily bowing, exalted by the Dharma and the Vinaya, violates the general scriptures. Substituting 'bowing' (bai) for 'reverence' (jing) would be appropriate. Therefore, this work has 'not bowing' in its title. Master Huiyuan had a saying: 'How could the deep abyss await the morning dew?' This was merely expressing his own boundless devotion. The writing of this book is likewise just like that. Clear-sighted scholars and penetrating worthies will perhaps not criticize it.