經律異相 17
English (machine translation) 17
- Language
- English
17.1
Compiled by the Liang śramaṇas Sengmin, Baochang, and others
17.2
1. Saṅghadatta did not take his wife, left home in the mountains and marshes, was harmed by bandits, and attained the Way
2. Suvarṇaprabha and his wife in a previous life together made an offering of water and goods to the Saṅgha, and in this life he obtained a well that yielded goods as he wished
3. Asāda was awakened by a nun, attained the Way, and delivered a merchant chief
4. Suradha, while in the womb, caused his mother's nature to become gentle, practiced vigorously, and attained the Way
5. Kṣemā, on account of illness, expounded the Dharma and her mind attained liberation
6. Koṭi retreated from meditative absorption six times, harmed his body, and realized the fruit
7. Mahāroha begrudged the meanings and brought on dullness, repented, and attained the Way
8. Panthaka chanted 'sweep' and forgot 'broom', chanted 'broom' and forgot 'sweep'
9. Cūḍapanthaka chanted one verse, was able to understand its meaning, and furthermore passed his bowl with spiritual power
10. Aṅgulimāla violently harmed the people, encountered the Buddha, left home, and attained the arhat path
11. The arhats Madhuvasita and others had residual habits
12. Brothers fought over wealth and asked the Buddha to resolve the dispute; he spoke of past events for them and they immediately attained the four fruits
13. One who constantly served the Saṅgha with food, drink, and clothing attained the Way
14. Seeing a rākṣasa, one left home and attained the Way
15. Someone avoided disaster, left home, saw the Buddha, and realized the Way
16. An arhat and an elephant were brothers in a former life, but their practice of wholesome deeds differed
17. Five hundred blind children took a rugged path, saw the Buddha, gained clear eyesight, and were awakened to the Way
18. A caṇḍāla child was kindly transformed by the Buddha and was awakened to the Way
19. The matter of a hunter renouncing his family to study the Way
17.3
1. Saṅghadatta did not take his wife, left home in the mountains and marshes, was harmed by bandits, and attained the Way
17.4
In the country of Śrāvastī there was a man named Li. His household was exceedingly wealthy, yet he was old and decrepit, completely without an heir. He prayed and sacrificed to the sun, moon, and heavenly spirits, omitting none, but in the end he could not obtain [a son]. He reflected to himself: "Supplications are of no benefit; precious wealth is squandered, estate management is neglected, sicknesses follow one after another, and disasters strike unceasingly from beginning to end. Slaves die, and the six kinds of domestic animals do not breed. I have been deluded by demonic spirit-masters, who claimed that there would be blessings, yet disasters have repeatedly arrived. This is like a blind person swallowing poison and calling it good medicine; hoping for recovery, he ultimately loses his life. Having already killed living beings in sacrifice, I ought to enter hell; is it not sheer delusion to look for heavenly blessings? In the world there are holy ones of the Buddhist path who have lofty conduct. Those who through study attain immortality are named Arhats (yingzhen). Pure like lapis lazuli, it is only through vigorous meditation that one beholds them. Those who uphold this path only preserve tranquility and silence; having no desires and seeking nothing, they take this as their joy. In the present life they attain peace, and upon death they are reborn in the heavens. Let me constantly make offerings to the Buddha and the Three Venerable Ones." After a year had elapsed, his wife happened to give birth to a boy, who was named Foda (Buddhadeva). Later, she again gave birth to a boy, who was named Sengda (Saṅghadeva). Li instructed the two sons, revealing to them the holy path. Sengda was by nature compassionate, filial, benevolent, and loving toward all creatures. He upheld the Buddhist precepts and drew near to śramaṇas. He was pure and content, and his parents loved him. When Li was bedridden with sickness, he called his eldest son and, weeping, admonished him: "Those who are born must die. Those who keep the precepts are safe; those who violate the precepts are in danger. Sengda is still young, benevolent, filial, pure, and blameless; I now entrust him to you." Having finished speaking, he passed away. Later, [Sengda] repeatedly told and frequently declared to his elder brother that he wished to become a śramaṇa. In that country's custom, if one wished to take a wife, one's phrase was "I wish to become a śramaṇa." Foda immediately betrothed a wife for him, seeking a daughter of a virtuous family named Kuaijian. Her radiant beauty was brilliant and dazzling, dignified and rarely equalled. When the bride came home and ascended the hall, the elder brother gathered the guests, and the nine grades of kinsmen rejoiced. Before the assembly, the elder brother said to his younger brother: "On this very day, are you willing to become a śramaṇa?" Sengda replied: "Indeed, it has been my long-standing vow." The elder brother bantered with him, saying: "You may follow your aspiration." The younger brother's heart was joyful; he bowed to his elder brother and immediately went into the mountains. He saw a śramaṇa, young and handsome, sitting alone beneath a tree. He asked, saying: "Virtuous one, for what reason did you go forth to become a śramaṇa?" That person had already attained the path of an arhat and foresaw the events of countless kalpas past and future. He said to Sengda: "The Buddha taught that when people indulge in lust, it is like holding a flaming torch while walking against the wind. If the flame gradually turns back and one does not cast down the torch, the fire will burn one's hand. It is also like a crow holding meat in its beak, pursued and attacked by eagles and falcons; if the crow does not drop the meat, disaster will befall its body and life. It is for this reason that I went forth to become a śramaṇa. Furthermore, it is like sweet honey smeared on a sharp knife: a child who craves the sweetness licks it with his tongue and suffers the disaster of severing his tongue. A lustful person seeks only to gratify his foolish mind, giving no thought to what follows, and suffers the harm of burning his body. It is like a moth that, craving the color of fire, hurls itself into a lamp; its body is seen to be burned and boiled—what can it ever gain? Those who are deluded by lust cannot distinguish good from evil; distancing themselves from the virtuous and consorting with the foolish, they sink day by day into darkness; their states perish, their hosts are destroyed, and upon death they enter hell. When evil clings and guilt is fulfilled, how can remorse avail?" (The similes are many and cannot all be recorded.) With such analogies [he taught]. Sengda bowed his head to the [teacher's] feet: "I wish to leave behind the defilements of the world and tread the pure path, upholding the precepts of a śramaṇa as my glory and blessing." The master said: "Wait a little." Sengda said: "My wish is to enter the mountains for dhyāna and quietude." The master said: "One who dwells in the mountains and marshes ought to study the constellations, clearly know the seasons and hours, and always store and keep ready water, fire, parched grain, and honey. Why is this? When robbers seek water, fire, parched grain, or honey from midnight to dawn, when they ask, you must provide it. Supply what the robbers desire; if you thwart their wishes, the robbers will kill you on the spot." Sengda said: "I will." He respectfully accepted the compassionate instruction and only then went into the mountains. His elder brother thought: "Since my younger brother has become a śramaṇa, he will never keep a wife. Kuaijian is dignified and beautiful, and my heart greatly delights in her." He arose, took a zither from Kuaijian, played it, and sang a song of lustful desire, saying: "Brilliantly the saffron grows in the wild; / If its season passes and it is not gathered, the flower will be abandoned. / While you are flourishing, radiant, and your flowery hue is fresh, / Share delight with me." Kuaijian realized he intended to violate her and replied with a song, saying: "Lofty and sublime is my master, the most venerable of gods and humans; / His disciples are pure and clean, designated as śramaṇas. / Contemplating truth is to be a sage; lust is the order of beasts. / I have received strict precepts and will not serve two masters; / I will never live in lust, but would rather be hacked to pieces." Foda then composed a sorrowful melody of passionate love, with seductive words: "My past heart favored you, and so through a good matchmaker I inquired after your name. / I visited the master to divine the signs for an auspicious time; / Apprehensive and anxious, I feared you would not come. / Having beheld your face, my heart is gladdened. / Now if we do not share our joys, would all that not be in vain? / This pledge is fixed; what does the virtuous woman doubt?" Kuaijian, alarmed and agitated, replied in song, saying: "The Buddha established proper conduct, wherein the noble and the humble have their order: / A husband's younger brother's wife is as a daughter; a husband's elder brother is as a father. / I personally uphold the precepts, rising higher day by day; / Truth is the equal of the sages, while lust is the affair of insects and rodents. / Alas, brother-in-law, why do you utter such words?" The elder brother's heart was covetous and deluded. Kuaijian knew that his intention could not be altered. Kuaijian sang again, saying: "When a person dwells in the world, two things must be kept far away: / Unfilial conduct and lustful disorder, acts that violate the Buddha's precepts. / Heaven and the virtuous / Mark their distinction." Foda sang, saying: "Your countenance is brilliant and dazzling; / Among the beautiful women of the whole world, how could there be one of your countenance? / My heart delights in you, and so I would cross great mountains." Kuaijian thought to herself: "This man desires me with perverse and wild frenzy, which will surely bring about great disaster. Let me speak of the foul and impure secretions of the body, and only then will he withdraw." Kuaijian said again: "Kind sir, you crave my body, but what good is this body? The head has nine bones that unite to form a skull." In this manner she spoke at length of all the impurities. Foda thought to himself: "She longs for her husband; how would she ever be willing to listen to me? Only if I kill my younger brother will she follow me." He immediately went out to seek and recruit habitual robbers. Approaching them, he spoke with them, saying: "Do you know the slave registered among my household's six rosters, who fled to become a śramaṇa and is now in the mountains?" The robbers said: "We know him." Foda then brought out gold and silver, gave it to them, and said: "Kill the slave-boy, quickly take his head, along with the clothes on his body, the Dharma robes he carries, and the sandals under his feet, and bring them all back. I will reward you gentlemen with gold and silver once again." The robbers, overjoyed, said: "You will have your fill [of satisfaction] from us!" They then departed and entered the mountains. Reaching his younger brother's place, they shouted, saying: "Śramaṇa, come out quickly!" His younger brother came out and said: "What are you gentlemen seeking? I have water, fire, parched grain, and honey that can be eaten. The time is now midnight." The robbers said: "We do not seek water or fire, nor do we ask for parched grain or honey. At this time we only want to take your head and run off with it." Hearing this, his younger brother was greatly terrified and, weeping, said: "I am not the son of an elder or a feudal lord. I abandoned worldly life for the sake of the Path and have no contention with the world. I have studied the Path for only a short time and have not yet attained the stream-entry (srotāpanna) path; what benefit is there in killing me?" The robbers said: "We have come for your head." The younger brother said to the robbers: "If you wish to obtain treasure, I will write a letter to my elder brother telling him to bestow treasure upon you." The robbers said: "Your elder brother commanded us to come now and kill you." The younger brother said: "I must now die, and it is on account of this woman! Previously, my master admonished me: 'When a person lives with lust, it is like holding a flaming torch while walking against the wind; if one does not drop it, the fire will burn one's hand.' It has become dark, just as my master warned." Weeping, he begged the robbers for one year of life. The robbers said: "We must quickly take your head and go." His younger brother said again: "I pray that you do not kill me immediately. First sever one of my thighs and place it before me." The robbers severed one thigh and placed it before him. As the younger brother suffered this agony, a deity came to his side and said: "Take care not to be terrified; hold firm to your mind. In your past lives, you entered among animals, and humans slaughtered and carved you up, weighing and selling your meat, not just for a single lifetime. You have undergone the hells and hungry ghosts as well; the coming of pain and agony is not something of today alone." Sengda said to the deity: "Please inform my master." The deity immediately told the master, saying: "Robbers wish to kill him. Your disciple, weeping bitterly in sorrow, begs for mercy and wishes to see you." The master immediately flew there and preached the Dharma to him, saying: "Even heaven, earth, and Mount Sumeru are destroyed; the ocean dries up, and upon the appearance of the seven suns, it is ruined. In the world there is a wind named Vairambha; once Vairambha arises, mountains clash against one another, yet this wind also ceases. How much less is your small body worth counting? You should only be mindful of the Buddha. The Buddha always said of himself: 'What flourishes must decay; what gathers must disperse; glorious positions are difficult to preserve.' The body is likewise so." Sengda then attained the stream-entry path (srotāpanna). They severed another thigh; being mindful again of the master's admonitions, he attained the once-returner path (sakṛdāgāmin). The robbers severed his left hand; being mindful again of the master's admonitions, he attained the non-returner path (anāgāmin). The robbers severed his right hand; being mindful again of the master's admonitions, he attained the arhat path. He then had no fear of the three evil destinies; at ease in birth and death, there was nothing he feared any longer. Sengda said: "Bring tree bark." They then peeled tree bark and gave it to him. Sengda took a branch as a brush, punctured his body for blood, and wrote upon the bark, saying: "May my eldest brother's daily life be peaceful and well at all times. When our parents were alive, they entrusted me to my elder brother. My brother did not obey, transgressing and discarding our parents' teachings. For the sake of female beauty, flesh and blood have mutually harmed each other. Transgressing parents' compassionate instruction is unfilial; brutally slaying a person's life is unbenevolent. To kill a single beast incurs no small guilt; how much more so to kill an arhat—the retribution of the five [heinous crimes] will not cease. Now I roam peacefully in tranquility, taking leave of you forever from here on. Strive diligently, strive diligently; may you revere the true Path!" He extended his neck to a length of two feet and said to the robbers: "When you sever my head, it will be just like slicing a head of clay. My fear is that you will fall into hell." The robbers stepped forward, severed his head, took the clothes from his body, his staff, sandals, and bowl, and carried them to his elder brother's place. The elder brother rewarded the robbers richly with gold and silver. The elder brother took his younger brother's head and made an artificial body for it, placed the head on top, dressed it in the clothes, and set the staff, bowl, and sandals beside it. He said to Kuaijian: "Your husband has returned; you may go greet him." Kuaijian was overjoyed and ran to the spot. Seeing him sitting with downcast eyes, she thought he was contemplating the Path. The wife did not dare to call out, but prepared delicious food, intending to feed him as soon as he awakened from his meditation on the Path. By midday he had not awakened; the wife approached and said: "It is already noon; I fear the time will pass." Surprised that he did not respond, she pulled his clothes; the head fell off, and the body scattered completely. The wife beat her breast, leapt, and cried aloud, saying: "You have ultimately met with brutal violence on account of me!" In grief and indignation she cried out to Heaven, her heart and liver shattered; blood gushed from her mouth, and she suddenly passed away. Precept conduct that is pure and unstained is difficult to defile, like empty space; establishing the mind on the holy model is difficult to shake, like the earth; true and pure conduct that is exalted is difficult to reach, like heaven. Before she expired, all the devas sighed in admiration and welcomed her spirit to dwell in the Trāyastriṃśa heaven: enduring for the brief space of an instant, she attained the hard-to-exhaust glory of heaven. The elder brother entered the meditation room and saw his brother's head and body scattered, and the woman dead from vomiting blood. He cried out, saying: "Alas! Having rebelled against Heaven, what I have done is so cruel and harrowing that it has led to this!" He immediately went to the robbers' place and asked: "Did my younger brother have any dying words as he was about to perish?" The robbers showed him the letter. Its words and analogies were sorrowful and poignant; when he finished reading it, his internal organs choked, and tears and mucus streamed forth: "I transgressed the dying compassionate instruction of my revered parents; flesh and blood mutually harmed each other, and moreover I killed an arhat." Stricken with grief, he died, and upon death he entered hell. From the king down to the ministers and citizens, none did not weep. Praising his pure virtue, they gave his younger brother a funeral. The four assemblies erected a stūpa. Devas, dragons, ghosts, and spirits packed the sky, scattering flowers and burning incense, and none did not choke with tears. As for farewells to the great Kuaijian, the people of the country were grieved and mourned, singing praises of her virtue. (Extracted from the Foda sengda jing.)
17.5
2. Suvarṇaprabhāsa (Jintian), having in a previous life together with his wife given water and articles to the Saṅgha, obtained in his present life a well that produced items as desired.
17.6
In the kingdom of Śrāvastī there was an elder whose household was exceedingly wealthy. A son was born to him with a golden-hued body. A physiognomist examined him, saw his wondrous signs, and immediately gave him a name, calling him Suvarṇadeva (which in the language of Liang means 'Golden God'). On the day he was born, a water well spontaneously appeared in his house, eight spans in length and breadth. Drawing and using its water satisfied every wish of people; everything that was needed came forth directly at will. As the boy grew older, he became widely accomplished in skills and arts. The elder loved him dearly and never dared go against his wishes, but thought to himself: 'My son is handsome, and his appearance is beyond compare. I must search for and select a renowned maiden of golden complexion and wondrous form who matches my son, and go seek her.' He then recruited merchants to search everywhere for her. At that time, in the land of Jambu, a great elder had just fathered a daughter named Suvarṇaprabhāsa (which in the language of Liang means 'Brightness'), extraordinarily fair of face and with a golden body. On the day she was born, there likewise spontaneously appeared an eight-span water well whose yield satisfied all desires. At that time that elder also thought to himself: 'My daughter is fair of face. I must find a virtuous gentleman who matches my daughter before I marry her to him.' Then the girl's fame spread far to Śrāvastī, and Suvarṇadeva's reputation was also heard by the girl's family. Thereupon the two elders rejoiced and sought to make the marriage match. After the wedding was concluded, they returned to Śrāvastī. Suvarṇadeva's family then prepared supreme offerings and invited the Buddha and the saṅgha to accept an offering of food for one day. The Buddha accepted their invitation and widely proclaimed the wondrous Dharma for the elder, Suvarṇadeva, and his wife; all of them attained srotāpanna. The Buddha returned to the vihāra. Suvarṇadeva and his wife spoke to their parents, asking permission to go forth from the household life. The parents consented, and together they went to the Buddha's place. The Buddha said: 'Welcome, monks!' Their hair and beards fell off of themselves, Dharma robes came onto their bodies, and they immediately became śramaṇas. Taught and guided by degrees, they both became arhats. The Buddha said: 'In the past, after the parinirvāṇa of Vipaśyin Buddha, when his bequeathed teachings remained in the world, some monks were traveling to teach and arrived at a village. The people, eminent worthies, and elders, seeing the assembly of monks arrive, vied to make offerings. At that time there was a husband and wife who were destitute, hungry, and exhausted. They often thought to themselves: “When my father was alive, wealth and treasures were accumulated in abundance; today, our persons are impoverished to the utmost. How bitter it is!” At that time, though wealthy, they had not encountered such a holy saṅgha; now having met them, they had no money to make offerings. They wept sorrowfully. The wife saw her husband weeping and said to him: “Now you may go into our original house, search in the old storehouse for coins or valuables, and use them to make offerings.” The husband did as his wife said, went into the old storehouse, and found a single gold coin. At that time, his wife also had a bright mirror. With one mind, they gave them as a donation, bought a new vase, filled it with pure water, put this gold coin into the water of the vase, placed the mirror on top, brought it to the monks' place, and gave it with sincere hearts. The monks immediately received it, and each took water to wash his bowl, while others took water to drink. That husband and wife rejoiced with delighted hearts. Contracting an illness, they passed away and were reborn in the Trāyastriṃśa heaven. Those poor people were this Suvarṇadeva and his wife.' (Extracted from the fifth fascicle of the *Sūtra of the Wise and the Foolish*)
17.7
3. Asāḍha Was Awakened by a Nun, Attained the Path, and Saved a Merchant Leader
17.8
There was a merchant leader named Devagupta who was traveling to the kingdom of Roruka. He always took delight in giving and had conceived faith in the Buddha. Wishing first to set out to sea, [he vowed:] 'If I return safely, I will hold a great five-year assembly in the Buddha's Dharma.' None among the gods and humans in that land failed to hear of it. At that time an arhat bhikṣuṇī traveled together with him to that land; she reflected and observed, and knew that Devagupta would return safely and hold a great five-year assembly, inviting eighteen thousand bhikṣus who were all arhats, twice as many trainees (śaikṣas), and countless ordinary persons. She saw that the elder (sthavira), named Asāḍha, was in fact an ordinary person, though exceedingly energetic. Entering the saṅghārāma, she made obeisance in order and said to the elder: 'Venerable Sir, you are very unadorned.' The elder thought to himself: 'Why does she consider me unadorned?' Looking at his body, he saw his beard and hair were long, so he summoned a youth to shave off his beard and hair. The bhikṣuṇī still said he was unadorned. The elder again summoned the youth to wash and dye his robes. The nun returned to the saṅghārāma and still said he was unadorned. The elder became angry and said: 'I have already shaved my beard and hair and washed and dyed my robes. Why do you say I am unadorned?' The bhikṣuṇī said: 'In the Buddha's Dharma, the adornment is the attainment of the four fruits. Venerable Sir, did you hear the merchant leader Devagupta make the lion's roar regarding the great five-year assembly?' He answered: 'I heard it.' 'Venerable Sir, you are an ordinary person, yet as the chief elder you receive offerings first among the assembly of arhats. Is this adornment?' Only then did the elder realize it; he wept and was full of sorrow. The bhikṣuṇī said: 'Why are you weeping?' He answered: 'Sister, I am already old and capable of nothing.' The bhikṣuṇī said: 'The Tathāgata's Dharma is visible [here and now] and has no fixed seasons. You may go to the Naṭabaṭa monastery to the bhikṣu Upagupta. This bhikṣu was prophesied by the Buddha: “Among my disciples, he is foremost in converting [others].”' When the elder bhikṣu arrived, Upagupta came out to greet him, saying: 'Venerable Sir, wash your feet and rest.' He answered: 'I have not washed my feet; I wish to see Upagupta.' Upagupta's disciple said: 'Venerable Sir, this is Upagupta, who has come to welcome you.' Greatly rejoiced, he washed his feet. Upagupta then taught and transformed him, found donors for him, and provided baths, food, and various offerings. He spoke to the karmadāna, saying: 'Now a bhikṣu who has attained the two liberations is entering the meditation place,' up to: 'eighteen thousand arhats all enter the meditation place.' At that time the bhikṣu entered the seat of the first meditation and sat. Upagupta entered the fire-light samādhi. In this way, all eighteen thousand arhats entered the fire-light samādhi. When the bhikṣu saw this, joy arose in his heart. Upagupta instructed him and explained the Dharma; the bhikṣu vigorously contemplated and attained the fruit of arhatship. He returned to his home country. The arhat bhikṣuṇī went to the saṅghārāma, bowed, and said: 'Today, the Venerable Sir is adorned.' He answered: 'It was by your power, Sister.' When the five-year assembly arrived, Devagupta asked the elder: 'The World-Honoured One expounded the Dharma in various ways; is what you teach no different?' The elder replied: 'In the past, ninety-one kalpas ago, we were merchants who entered the sea to gather jewels, vowing to fill our ship and return to Jambudvīpa. Then we met a great storm that blew our ship onto a sea of sand. For Vipaśyin Buddha, we piled up sand to make a stūpa and made offerings to it with precious gems. At that time the devas showed me the path, saying: “In seven days a great flood will come, which will float your ship back into Jambudvīpa.” When the seventh day arrived, it was indeed as the devas said. By this cause of the sand stūpa, for ninety-one kalpas I have not fallen into the evil destinies, and now I have attained the fruit of arhatship. Now you are able to make offerings to so many people at the place of the Three Jewels. I utter vows: the suffering of birth and death is endless; you may now leave the household life.' Devagupta received his instruction, immediately became a śramaṇa, and attained the path of an arhat. (Extracted from the ninth fascicle of the *Aśokarāja-sūtra*)
17.9
4. Śroṇa, While in the Womb, Caused His Mother's Nature to Be Gentle; He Strove Vigorously and Attained the Path
17.10
In the kingdom of Pāṭaliputra there was a merchant leader named Sudhana. When an intermediate-state being entered the mother's womb, he immediately caused his mother's character to become upright and gentle, free of all deviant thoughts. The husband inquired of a master, and the master answered: 'She carries an excellent and virtuous child.' Later she gave birth to a son named Śroṇa. As he gradually grew older, he sought to leave the household life; his parents consented. He practiced vigorously and realized the fruit of an arhat. (Extracted from the twenty-fifth fascicle of the *Āgamas*)
17.11
5. Kṣema Explained the Dharma Due to Illness, and His Mind Attained Liberation
17.12
The bhikṣu Kṣema fell gravely ill and suffered great pain. The bhikṣu Dāsa was his caregiver. At that time, the elders told the bhikṣu Dāsa to speak to the sick monk on the Dharma of the five aggregates of clinging. He went back and forth twice. The bhikṣu Kṣema said to the bhikṣu Dāsa: 'Why trouble yourself to rush back and forth? Bring a staff; I will support myself with the staff and go to those elders.' When those elders saw Kṣema coming from afar supported by a staff, they spread a seat for him and told him to sit, and further recounted ancient discourses in detail. The bhikṣu Kṣema then preached the Dharma. Thereupon those elders were freed from defilements and parted from dust, attaining the pure Dharma eye; and for the bhikṣu Kṣema, the defilements no longer arose, and his mind attained liberation. (Extracted from the *Sūtra on the Bhikṣu Kṣema's Parable of Grave Illness*)
17.13
6. Godhika Regressed Six Times from Concentration, Took His Own Life, and Realized the Goal
17.14
Anciently, when the Buddha was in the country of Śrāvastī, his disciple Godhika regressed from the fruit of arhatship six times. When he reached the seventh time, he felt he had realized it in his person, but fearing he would regress again, he sought a sharp sword and took his own life. At that time, Māra Pāpīyān searched for the bhikṣu's consciousness to see where he had been reborn, but could not discover it. He immediately went to ask the Buddha. The World-Honoured One told him: 'The bhikṣu Godhika has already attained extinction. His consciousness resides in the void and has become one with the void.' When the wicked Māra heard this, a poisonous distress arose in his heart; he threw himself entirely into a blue lotus pond to bathe. The pond's water boiled up, and all the aquatic creatures perished. Because of this event, all the bhikṣus practiced diligently and vigorously, fearing they too might regress. (Extracted from the *Sūtra on the Bhikṣu Godhika*)
17.15
7. Mahālū Begrudged the Meaning, Suffered Dullness, Repented, and Attained the Path
17.16
Anciently, there was a kingdom called Tāmralipti. Seven li from the city there was a vihāra where five hundred śramaṇas constantly resided, praising the scriptures and practicing the Path. There was a senior bhikṣu named Mahālū who was naturally obtuse. The five hundred religious men taught him in turn, but over several years he could not master a single verse. The assembly disdained him together, did not take him to gatherings, and always kept him guarding the vihāra, ordering him to sweep it. Later, the king invited all the monks into the palace for offerings. The bhikṣu Mahālū thought to himself: 'I was born into the world so obtuse as this; not knowing a single verse, I am despised by people. What is the use of living like this?' Taking a rope, he went into the back garden under a great tree, intending to hang himself. With his divine eye, the Buddha saw this from afar; he transformed himself into a tree spirit, appearing with half a human body, and rebuked him: 'Hey, bhikṣu! Why do you do this?' Mahālū then recounted his hardships in full. The transformed spirit rebuked him: 'Do not do this; just listen to my words! Formerly, in the time of Kāśyapa Buddha, you were a Tripiṭaka śramaṇa with five hundred disciples. Believing yourself to have great wisdom, you treated others with contempt and arrogance; begrudging the meaning of the scriptures, you never gave instruction. For this reason, in life after life, your faculties have been dull and dark. You should only blame yourself; why demean yourself?' Thereupon the World-Honoured One revealed his radiant form and spoke a wondrous verse for him. Mahālū bowed his head to the Buddha's feet, contemplated the meaning of the verse, and entered a state of concentration. Promptly, before the Buddha, he attained the path of an arhat. He recognized his own past lives through countless generations, and all the scriptures of the Tripiṭaka were threaded in his mind. The Buddha said to Mahālū: 'Don your robes, hold your bowl, and go to the king's palace to eat, sitting at the head of the five hundred monks. These monks were your five hundred disciples in a past life; expound the Dharma to them so they may attain the traces of the Path, and also cause the king to clearly believe in wrongdoing and merit.' He then received the instruction, entered the royal palace, and sat in the foremost seat. The monks were resentful and wondered why, but respecting the king's wishes, none dared summon and dismiss him. Thinking him ignorant and unable to bestow the dāna-dakṣiṇā, their minds were weary of him. When the king had the food served and personally poured and portioned it, Mahālū immediately gave the dāna-dakṣiṇā, his voice resounding like thunder and clear words pouring down like rain. The monks on their seats were alarmed, repented, and all attained arhatship. When he preached the Dharma for the king, there was no one who did not understand; all the ministers and officials attained srotāpanna. (Extracted from the first fascicle of the *Avadāna of the Dharmapada*)
17.17
8. Panthaka Chanted 'Sweep' and Forgot 'Broom', Chanted 'Broom' and Forgot 'Sweep'
17.18
Cūḍapanthaka's elder brother said, "If you cannot keep the precepts, return to being a layman." Panthaka went to the gate of Jetavana weeping. The Buddha said to him, "Why are you grieving?" He replied with his brother's words. The Buddha said, "Do not be afraid. My attainment of unexcelled, fully enlightened Buddhahood did not depend on your brother." Taking Panthaka by the hand, he led him to a quiet room, taught him to hold a broom, and had him recite. Panthaka chanted "sweep" and forgot "broom"; he chanted "broom" and forgot "sweep". Only after several days [did he grasp it; then the Buddha taught that] "sweeping with a broom" is also called "removing defilement". Panthaka contemplated: "When ashes, dirt, tiles, and stones are removed, there is purity. Fetters are defilements; wisdom can remove them. I now, using the broom of wisdom, sweep away and remove all fetters." (From the first fascicle of the Ekottarika-āgama.)
17.19
8. Cūḍapanthaka Recites One Verse, Understands Its Meaning, and Uses Supernatural Power to Present the Alms Bowl
17.20
When the Buddha was in the country of Śrāvastī, there was a monk named Panthaka. Having recently gone forth, he was by nature dull and obstructed. The Buddha ordered five hundred arhats to instruct him daily, but over the course of three years he could not master a single verse. The four assemblies in the kingdom all knew of his foolishness and darkness. The Buddha took pity on him, called him before himself, and imparted to him a single verse:
Guard the mouth, restrain the mind, and do not violate with the body;
Practitioners who act like this will achieve deliverance from the world.
Moved by the Buddha's compassionate grace, Panthaka rejoiced, his mind opened, and he was able to chant the verse fluently. The Buddha said to him, "You are now old, and only now have you mastered a single verse. Everyone knows this; it is nothing extraordinary. I shall now explain its meaning to you: with single-mindedness, [contemplate] the sources of the three bodily, four verbal, and three mental [actions]; observe what arises and inspect what ceases. The five destinies within the three realms revolve without cease; through this one ascends to heaven, through this one falls into the abyss, and through this one attains the Way, realizing nirvāṇa naturally." Analyzing it, he expounded boundless wonderful teachings for him; all at once Panthaka's mind opened, and he attained the arhat path. At that time, there were five hundred nuns who had a separate vihāra. The Buddha would dispatch a monk to expound the scriptural teachings for them each day. The next day, it was Panthaka's turn to go. When the nuns heard this, they all smirked in advance: "When he comes tomorrow, we shall recite his verse backward and embarrass him so that he cannot say a single word." The next day Panthaka arrived. All the nuns, young and old, came out to pay homage, exchanging smiles. When they had finished sitting, food was served. After eating, they rinsed their mouths and hands, and requested that he expound the Dharma. Panthaka then mounted the high seat, and speaking humbly of himself, said, "I have little virtue and inferior capacity, and am not yet a [true] śramaṇa. I have long been dull and slow, and what I have learned is not much. I know only a single verse and roughly understand its meaning. I shall expound it for you; please listen quietly." When the young nuns wished to recite the verse backward, they could not open their mouths. Terrified and reproaching themselves, they bowed their heads and repented. Panthaka then followed what the Buddha had taught, analyzing each point in detail: the origins of bodily and mental actions, sins and blessings, inner and outer, ascending to heaven and attaining the Way, the methods of settling the spirit, severing thoughts, and entering meditative concentration. Hearing his exposition, the nuns were greatly astonished at its extraordinary nature and rejoiced whole-heartedly; they all attained the arhat path. Later, King Prasenajit invited the Buddha and the saṅgha to assemble in the main hall. Wishing to manifest Panthaka's awe-inspiring supernatural power, the Buddha gave him his alms bowl, had him carry it, and walked ahead of him. The gatekeeper recognized Panthaka and stopped him, refusing to let him enter: "You are a śramaṇa who does not understand a single verse; why should you receive an invitation? Even I, a layman, know verses, not to mention a śramaṇa. You have no wisdom; giving to you yields no benefit, so there is no need for you to enter the gate." Panthaka remained outside the gate. The Buddha sat upon the hall. When the water offering was concluded, Panthaka held up the bowl, stretched out his arm from afar, and presented it to the Buddha. The king, his ministers, the queen, the crown prince, and the four assemblies saw the arm enter without seeing the body, and in amazement asked the Buddha, "Whose arm is this?" The Buddha said, "This is the arm of the worthy Panthaka Bhikṣu. He has attained the Way. Earlier I had him carry my bowl, but the gatekeeper would not allow him to enter, so he stretched out his arm to give me the bowl." He was immediately invited in, his awe-inspiring power manifoldly greater than usual. The king said to the Buddha, "I have heard that the Venerable Panthaka was foolish and dull by nature, and only now understands a single verse. By what cause did he attain the Way?" The Buddha said to the king, "Learning need not be abundant; practice is supreme. The worthy Panthaka understands the meaning of a single verse, penetrating the subtle truth into the marvelous; body, mouth, and mind are quiescent and pure like celestial gold. Though a person studies much, if he does not practice, he merely dissipates consciousness and thoughts in vain; what benefit is there?" Thereupon the Bhagavat uttered this verse:
17.21
"Though one recites a thousand chapters, / If the meaning of the phrases is not correct, / It is not as good as a single essential [verse] / Hearing which one can extinguish the [defiled] mind. / Though one recites a thousand words, / If they are not righteous, what is the benefit? / It is not as good as a single righteous teaching / Hearing and practicing which brings deliverance. / Though one recites many scriptures, / If one does not understand, what is the benefit? / Understanding a single phrase of Dharma, / By practicing it one can attain the Way."
17.22
Upon hearing this verse together, two hundred monks attained the arhat path. The king, his ministers, the queen, and the crown prince all rejoiced. (From the first fascicle of the Dharmapada.)
17.23
9. Aṅgulimāla Cruelly Harms the People, Encounters the Buddha, Goes Forth, and Attains the Arhat Path
17.24
The Bhagavat was in the city of Śrāvastī, at the Jetavana, Anāthapiṇḍada's park. At that time, many monks, when the time came, put on their robes, took up their bowls, and entered the city of Śrāvastī to beg for food. Outside the gate of King Prasenajit's palace, they heard many people taking one another by the hand, weeping, shouting, and saying: "In this kingdom there is a great, wicked bandit named Aṅgulimāla. He slaughters people and is cruel and devoid of compassion. Villages and settlements find no peace. When he kills people, he takes a finger from each to make a garland; hence he is named Aṅgulimāla ('Finger-Garland'). May the king subdue this man!" Having finished eating, the monks went to the Buddha, the Bhagavat, and recounted this fully. The Buddha then set out for that place. At that time, there were many people carrying firewood and bearing grass, as well as plowmen and travelers, who came to the Bhagavat and said to him, "Śramaṇa, do not travel along this road. Why? On this road is Aṅgulimāla, who slaughters people without compassion. The living beings of the cities and villages have all been harmed by that man. Since he kills people to make garlands of fingers, we fear he will molest the Bhagavat." The Buddha, the Bhagavat, then proceeded further. Seeing the Bhagavat coming from afar, Aṅgulimāla thought: "Now this śramaṇa comes alone without companions; I shall kill him." Aṅgulimāla immediately drew the sword at his waist and went toward the Buddha. Seeing him from afar, the Bhagavat turned back along the road. Aṅgulimāla ran after the Bhagavat, using all his strength in an effort to overtake him, yet he could not catch him. Aṅgulimāla thought: "In running I can catch elephants, horses, chariots, fierce bulls, and men; yet this śramaṇa does not walk swiftly, and even with all my strength I cannot overtake him." Aṅgulimāla called to the Bhagavat from afar, "Stop, stop, śramaṇa!" The Bhagavat replied, "I stopped long ago; it is you who have not stopped." Aṅgulimāla thought, "I have practiced evil deeds." He immediately cast aside the sword at his waist, prostrated his whole body in refuge, and asked to become a śramaṇa and receive the full ordination. The Buddha said, "Welcome, monk!" His hair and beard fell away naturally as though shaved, and his clothes transformed into kāṣāyas. The Buddha expounded the Dharma for him, and he became an arhat. At that time, King Prasenajit assembled the four divisions of his army and set out from the city of Śrāvastī, intending to kill the bandit Aṅgulimāla. Passing first by the Bhagavat, he explained this fully to the Buddha. The Bhagavat asked him, "If the king were now to see Aṅgulimāla with his hair and beard shaved off, wearing the three Dharma robes, having gone forth with firm faith to train in the Way, what would the king do?" The king replied, "If so, I would inquire after him, pay homage and show respect, without any intention to harm him. However, he is savage and without compassion; how could he practice the ways of a śramaṇa?" At that time, Aṅgulimāla was not far from the Buddha, sitting cross-legged with an upright body and correct mindfulness, focusing his attention before him. The Buddha raised his hand and pointed to Aṅgulimāla's place. When Prasenajit saw Aṅgulimāla, he was seized with fear, his hair standing on end. The Buddha said, "Do not be afraid. Go to him yourself, and he will speak with you, O King." King Prasenajit went to Aṅgulimāla, bowed with his head to the feet, and stood to one side. King Prasenajit asked Aṅgulimāla, "Venerable Aṅgulimāla, what is your name now?" Aṅgulimāla answered, "Great King, my name is Garga, and my mother's name is Mantānī." The king replied, "Endeavor well! For the rest of my life, I shall provide Venerable Garga with clothing, food, medicine for sickness, and bedding, begrudging nothing, and I will always protect you with the Dharma." King Prasenajit bowed his head to his feet, circumambulated him three times, went to the Bhagavat, and said, "The Bhagavat is able to subdue those who cannot be subdued." (From the nineteenth fascicle of the Ekottarika-āgama.)
17.25
10. Madhuvāśiṣṭha and Others Have Residual Habits
17.26
There are people who, although they have severed all afflictions, still display outward signs of affliction in their bodily and verbal actions. When ordinary people see and hear these, impure thoughts arise in their minds. For instance, the arhat Madhuvāśiṣṭha had been a monkey for five hundred lifetimes; although he had now attained the Way, he still leapt about in trees. When foolish people saw this, contempt and arrogance arose in them. Also, the arhat Pilindavatsa had been born among brāhmaṇas for five hundred lifetimes and had acquired a habit of contempt. Although he had now attained the Way, he still spoke to the goddess of the Ganges River, saying, "Little maid, stop the flow!" The Ganges goddess became angry, went to the Buddha, and lodged a complaint. The Buddha taught him to repent, but he still addressed her as "little maid". The Buddha had no such habits. For instance, once an evil-tongued brāhmaṇa cursed the Buddha with five hundred matters, yet the Buddha showed no sign of displeasure. The brāhmaṇa's heart rejoiced, and he then praised the Buddha with five hundred good matters, yet the Buddha also showed no sign of joy. One should know that the Buddha's residual habits of affliction are completely exhausted; hence, to him, the good and the bad are no different. (From the eighty-fourth fascicle of the Da zhidu lun.)
17.27
11. Brothers Disputing Wealth Ask the Buddha to Settle the Contention; He Expounds Past Events and They Attain the Four Fruits
17.28
The Buddha was in the Bamboo Grove at Rājagṛha. At that time, there were four brothers from a great clan. Their parents having died early, they quarrelled over the family estate. Seeing Śāriputra, they rejoiced and asked him, saying, “We pray that you will speak to us of this, so that we will quarrel no longer.” Śāriputra said, “Excellent! I have a Great Master, the Buddha, the most venerable in the three realms. Follow me and return to the Buddha's place; you will surely attain understanding.” Following Śāriputra, they returned. Seeing the four men from afar, the Buddha smiled and emitted five-coloured light. The four men paid homage to the Buddha and addressed him, saying, “We are foolish. We pray that the Buddha will explain and instruct us, so that we may quarrel no longer.” [The Buddha said:] “In the past, there was a king named Weilou. His body was afflicted with an illness. A physician was summoned to examine him; compounding the medicine required lion's milk. The king immediately offered a reward: whoever obtained it would be enfeoffed with a portion of land and given his younger daughter in marriage. At that time, a poor man announced that he could obtain it, and the king granted permission. That man was clever and first sought where lions dwelled. He then slaughtered a sheep and took several decalitres of grape wine, and went to that mountain. Watching for the lion to go out, he slaughtered the sheep and placed it together with the grape wine at its dwelling. Seeing the wine and meat, the lion drank and ate, fell into a deep drunken sleep, and lay down. He went forward, drew its milk, and returned rejoicing. Before reaching his home country, at dusk he lodged in a village. An arhat was also lodging there. He had pursued the lion, traversed perilous paths, and being utterly exhausted in body, he fell asleep, entirely unconscious of anything. The man of the Way observed the six consciousnesses within his body, each contending for merit. The foot-spirit said, ‘It is thanks to my walking to this place that the milk was obtained.’ The hand-spirit further said, ‘It is thanks to my hands that it was seized and taken.’ The eye-spirit further said, ‘It is thanks to my seeing it.’ The ear-spirit further said, ‘It is thanks to my hearing that the king sought milk and bringing you all here.’ The tongue-spirit then said, ‘You all dispute in vain! This merit belongs to me. Whether he now dies or lives rests entirely in my power.’ The man carried the milk to the king's place and announced, ‘I have now obtained lion's milk, and it is outside.’ The king said, ‘Whether right or wrong, simply bring it in.’ Just as the king saw the milk, the tongue then spoke: ‘This is not lion's milk; it is merely donkey's milk.’ Hearing this, the king was greatly enraged and said, ‘I sent you to fetch lion's milk, yet you bring donkey's milk!’ and was about to execute him. At that moment, the man of the Way who had lodged with him arrived before the king by supernormal power and reported, saying, ‘This is truly lion's milk. At that time, lodging together with this man in the village, I saw the six bodily faculties within him contending over their toil. The tongue said, “I shall turn against you all.” Now it has indeed turned out like this. Let the king simply compound the medicine with the milk, and his illness will surely be cured.’ The king then believed the arhat's words, used the milk to compound the medicine, gave him his daughter in marriage, and enfeoffed him as in the original pact. The man of the Way addressed the king, saying, ‘The bodily faculties of a single person are themselves mutually discordant—how much more so with others!’ At that time, he who had fetched the milk was grateful for the kindness of the man of the Way; he sought to become a śramaṇa, his mind opened, and he attained the path of an arhat. At that time, the king also rejoiced, received the five precepts, and attained the path of a srotaāpanna.” When the four men heard this, their minds opened to understanding; they then begged the Buddha to become monks. The Buddha remained silent and stroked their heads with his hand; their hair fell off and kāṣāya robes appeared on their bodies. Their bonds dissolved and their defilements were removed. Ānanda asked, “What roots of merit did these four men have in the past, that upon hearing the sūtra now they immediately understood and swiftly attained arhatship?” The Buddha said, “In the past, at the time of the Buddha *Māpitu, Śāriputra was a monk. These four men were merchants, and together they offered a single kāṣāya to Śāriputra. Śāriputra made an aspirational prayer: ‘May you gentlemen swiftly attain deliverance in a future life!’ Now they have attained liberation through Śāriputra.” (Extracted from the Sūtra of the Parable of King Weilou and the Lion's Milk.)
First 28 of 47 passages. Read on
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- 經律異相 — Classical Chinese