經律異相 20
English (machine translation) 20
- Language
- English
20.1
Compiled by the Liang śramaṇas Sengmin, Baochang, and others
20.2
1. Xuanze meets the Buddha's skilful guidance, renounces lustful desire, and attains the third fruit.
2. The wife of a srotāpanna falls ill through sexual intercourse, has a single awakening, and attains the third fruit.
3. A monk takes a vow, enters concentration for a long time, and dies upon emerging from concentration.
4. A monk sitting in meditation is harmed by a venomous snake, is born in heaven, sees the Buddha, and attains the Way.
5. A monk stops a king wearing a turban and shoes from paying homage to the Buddha and listening to the Dharma.
6. A monk cultivates the contemplation of impurity and attains the path of a srotāpanna.
7. A blind monk asks someone to sew his garment, hears the Dharma, and attains the Way.
8. A Tripiṭaka monk wearing worn-out robes is constantly hungry, but wearing fine clothes he receives food.
9. A youth of noble family leaves home, and the Buddha, on account of lustful love, demonstrates the clear Dharma of the noble ones.
10. Seven sons of a caṇḍāla are forced by a king into execution and lose their lives.
20.3
1. Xuanze meets the Buddha's skilful guidance, renounces lustful desire, and attains the third fruit
20.4
A human has seven receptacles: first, the wind receptacle; second, the receptacle of undigested food; third, the receptacle of digested food; fourth, the cold receptacle; fifth, the hot receptacle; sixth, the sight receptacle; seventh, the desire receptacle. Among these receptacles, the desire receptacle is the most obstinate. It relies upon nasal mucus, saliva, phlegm, pus, blood, sinews, bones, skin, flesh, the heart, liver, the five internal organs, intestines, stomach, feces, and urine. At that time in the assembly there was a householder named Xuanze (Varaṇa). His wife was named Miaose (Vararūpā); her face was dignified, and her posture and appearance were exceptionally outstanding. The householder was attached to her with affection, his afflictions blazing. Hearing the Buddha explain this, he immediately addressed the Buddha, saying, 'Bhagavat, do not speak thus! How could the mind of desire arise from feces and urine? My wife is dignified and free from all foul impurities.' The Buddha then manifested a woman, dignified, lovely, and clean, in appearance just like Miaose, with an upright countenance, who walked slowly into the assembly. The householder asked, 'Why have you come?' She answered, 'I wish to hear the exposition of the Dharma.' The householder then pulled her to sit upon his robe. By his supernatural power, the Buddha caused this woman's excrement to soil his robe, causing the householder to be unable to bear the foulness. Covering his nose with his hand, he looked around at those to his left and right: 'Who did this?' Upananda, unable to bear it, said to the householder, 'Why do you cover your nose and look back at me?' He answered, 'It is exceedingly foul and impure!' By the Buddha's supernatural power, Upananda and the whole assembly saw this woman soil the householder's robe. Then Upananda said to the householder, 'Just look at the foul impurity committed by your wife!' The householder answered, 'My wife is pure and clean, her body is free from any impurity. If anyone has doubts, they should look for themselves.' He said to Upananda, 'I thought it was you who made this impurity.' Upananda was greatly enraged, arose from his seat, and said, 'You should now be named Dung Householder! When your wife sat down, feces came out upon your robe; you are smeared with dung, yet feel no shame, and instead wish to slander others!' He shouted again, 'This Dung Householder should be sent out of the assembly!' and pulled him by the hand to make him leave the assembly. The householder said to his wife, 'Out of respect for you, I let you sit on my robe. As an adult, is this how you should conduct yourself?' The wife answered, 'When you draw near a bag of dung, this is naturally how it should be.' The householder then gave rise to revulsion. Intending to remove the dung from the robe, he soiled his body even more. He said to Upananda, 'By what expedient can I be freed from this impurity?' Upananda said, 'Not only does this dung soil your body, but there are further misfortunes that are your lot. If you wish to be free of them, you should keep far away from this [woman]. It is because of your wife's dung that this great assembly's heads ache and their minds are bewildered.' The householder replied, 'The sons of the Śākya are all full of great compassion. Why is your speech so harsh, to such an extent?' Upananda said, 'As you are now, how could you be pitied? Look at yourself now, whether you are pure and clean or not, yet you wish to slander me!' Then the householder said to his wife, 'You may return home.' Having sent her away, he said to Upananda, 'I now clearly see that women are deceitful, filled with many faults, and full of impurity. My mind has given rise to revulsion and detachment. I wish to leave home in the Buddha's Dharma and practice the Way.' Upananda said, 'Your body is now so foul and impure; if you smear it with perfume for years on end, then perhaps you may be fit to leave home.' The householder replied, 'If I smear perfume for years on end, either my body may be impermanent [and die], or the Buddha will enter parinirvāṇa, ruining my causes and conditions for leaving home to seek the Way. If I am now permitted to leave home, I will no longer dwell in cities, villages, monasteries, or vihāras, but become an āraṇyaka, begging for food, wearing rag-robes, in empty and quiet places. Who will smell my stench?' The Buddha, hearing this, called to him, saying, 'Welcome (ehi)! Become a śramaṇa and practice brahma-conduct.' The householder's hair and beard fell off on their own, a kāṣāya was draped on his body, and he held an alms bowl, like a monk. The Buddha preached the Dharma for him: suffering, its origin, its cessation, and the path. Distant from dust and free from defilement, he attained the purity of the Dharma-eye and became a srotāpanna. The Buddha preached the Dharma for him again, up to his attaining anāgāmin. When that night had passed, holding his robe and bowl, he went into the city of Rājagṛha, begging for food in turn, until he reached his original house and stood outside the gate. Then his wife, Miaose, seeing her husband had shaved his head, put on the Dharma robe, and left home to practice the Way, said to him, 'Is it proper that you should abandon me to become a śramaṇa?' Xuanze answered, 'Was it proper yesterday that you should discharge impurity upon my robe and soil my body?' Miaose replied, 'As a monk, should you slander others? From my father's house until coming to your home, I have never even seen the outer gate, let alone gone to the Bamboo Grove!' At that time, an evil Māra said to the householder, 'The one you saw yesterday was not Miaose at all; she was merely an apparition created to deceive your mind. You should now return to amuse yourself with the five desires. The śramaṇa Gautama has deceived you! You are now false and not a real monk. The śramaṇa Gautama constantly uses arts to delude many people into leaving home, just as he deceived you now.' Because the monk Xuanze had realized the true Dharma, he immediately recognized that this was Māra, and said to him, 'Evil one, you are also an apparition, and this sister Miaose and I are also apparitions; all are apparitions. The Dharma spoken by the Buddha is entirely empty, like an apparition.' At that time, Miaose, having heard this Dharma, became distant from dust and free from defilement, attained the purity of the Dharma-eye, eliminated doubt and regret, did not follow the words of others, and attained fearlessness in the Buddha's Dharma. She said to Xuanze, 'What you have done is exceedingly good—to be able to take joy in practicing brahma-conduct in the Buddha's Dharma. I too will leave home in the Dharma to practice the Way.' (Extracted from the eighth fascicle of the *Kuśalamūlasaṃparigraha Sūtra*).
20.5
2. The wife of a srotāpanna falls ill through sexual intercourse, has a single awakening, and attains the third fruit
20.6
Formerly, there was a lustful man whose mind was exclusively devoted to female form, so enamoured that he could not part from it; wishing to converse with women, his longing even entered his dreams. At that time, his wife fell ill, her flesh wasting away until she was reduced to bone. A monk who was a spiritual friend of the family frequently visited. The wife said to the monk, “My current illness makes me grow weaker day and night. Because of [my husband's] desires, I wish to unburden my feelings; is it permissible to do so?” The monk replied, “Just speak; there is no harm. Even if there are secrets, I shall keep them concealed and not let them be revealed.” The woman said, “My husband is full of desire. Day and night he bothers and torments me, allowing no time to eat or rest. Because of this I have fallen ill, and I fear I cannot survive.” The monk said, “If your husband approaches you, tell him these words: ‘Is this in accordance with the decorum of the dharma of a srotaāpanna?’” The wife immediately spoke to her husband. The husband felt great shame, and reflected within himself: “Am I not a srotaāpanna? Why do I not immediately put an end to such thoughts, and in a secluded place contemplate the fruit of the anāgāmin?” Knowing that he had already attained the path, he no longer engaged in sexual intercourse with his wife. The wife asked her husband, “Why have you now permanently put an end to lustful desires?” The husband replied, “I have clearly seen through you; on what grounds should we still associate?” The wife said to her husband, “You say you have ‘clearly seen through me’; what fault do I have? I have always been chaste and never violated the decorum of womanhood. Why do you revile me to this extent?” The woman then gathered her five degrees of relatives and kinsmen, and told them: “Now my husband treats me with indifference, has permanently ended our affection, and furthermore reviles me, claiming that he has ‘seen through me.’ Let him explain this now before the assembly.” The husband said, “Wait, let me bring evidence to clarify it myself.” The husband returned home, took a finely painted, attractive jar, filled it with excrement and filth, tightly covered its mouth, and perfumed it with fragrant flowers. Returning to the assembly, he told his wife, “Do you truly love me? If you love me, you may embrace and fondle this jar just as you love my body.” Following his words, the wife embraced and fondled the jar, unwilling to let it go. The husband, seeing that his wife was attached to this jar, immediately struck the jar and broke it; the foul filth overflowed, and maggots emerged. He then asked his wife, “Can you still embrace this broken jar now?” She answered, “I would rather choose death than approach this. I would rather enter a pit of fire, throw myself into deep waters, or leap from a high mountain so that my head and feet are severed, than ever come near it.” The husband said, “Seeing your true nature, I view your body as far worse than this jar. From head to foot, I analyze and contemplate it: among the thirty-six bodily parts, what is there to be coveted?” He then spoke a verse:
20.7
“The brave one enters meditation and contemplates
the body, mind, and associated dust;
having seen them, disgust arises,
just as toward that painted jar.”
(Extracted from the eleventh fascicle of the Udānavarga)
20.8
3. The Monk Who Vowed to Enter Meditation for a Long Time and Died Upon Emerging
20.9
There was a monk who had attained the concentration of cessation (nirodhasamāpatti). At the time of begging for food, he put on his robes and went to the dining hall. On that day, the monastery struck the ghaṇṭī late. That monk, diligent in his practice, had this thought: “Why should I pass this time in vain instead of contemplating the future? When will the ghaṇṭī be struck?” He then made a vow, entering the concentration of cessation, intending to arise only when the ghaṇṭī was struck. At that time, a disturbance arose in that saṅghārāma, and the monks abandoned the saṅghārāma and departed. Only after three months was the disturbance resolved. The monks then gathered again and struck the ghaṇṭī. That monk arose from meditation and immediately died. Later, there was a mendicant monk who had attained the concentration of cessation. In the early morning, he wished to go begging for food. At that time, heavy rain fell from the sky, and he thought: “If I enter the village, it will ruin the color of my robes. If I do not go, why pass this time in vain instead of contemplating the future?” He then made a vow to enter meditation, intending to arise when it ceased raining. Some say the rain lasted for half a month; others say the rain lasted for a month. Once the rain stopped, that monk arose from meditation and immediately died (extracted from the forty-fourth fascicle of the Vibhāṣā).
20.10
4. The Monk Meditating Harmed by a Venomous Snake, Reborn in Heaven, Seeing the Buddha and Attaining the Path
20.11
In the kingdom of Mathurā, within the Nyagrodha park, there was a monk sitting in meditation in a quiet place. There was also a venomous snake coiled beneath his seat. As the monk dozed, his head lowered and raised. The venomous snake thought to itself: “This man, seeing me, must surely intend to kill me.” It immediately sprang with its whole body [and bit him]. The monk died and was reborn in the Trāyastriṃśa heaven. The heavenly maidens came to attend and serve him. The devaputra told them, “Sisters, do not approach my body; if you approach, you will surely cause me to violate the precepts.” The maidens thought to themselves: “This deity must have been a śramaṇa in his past life, which is why he was reborn here to enjoy heavenly blessings.” The heavenly maidens then held mirrors before the devaputra’s face. Seeing his heavenly robes and headdress, he only then realized he had been reborn in heaven. He immediately rose from his seat, saw his attendants, and walked into the garden, sitting down beneath a tree. Sitting upright, he contemplated, seeking samādhi. In the pond there were birds of various kinds, calling out to one another in sorrowful tones, their cries plaintive yet harmonious. He wished to attain the path, but was unable to accomplish it. At that time, the devaputra descended from the Trāyastriṃśa heaven to Jambudvīpa, arrived at the Bhagavat's place, and said: “When my heavenly blessings are exhausted, I shall fall into Mount Tai and the hells; thus wandering in saṃsāra without end. Pray have pity and deliver me, that I may attain liberation.” The Buddha expounded the Dharma for him, and right on his seat, all dust and defilement were eliminated, and he attained the purification of the Dharma-eye (extracted from the Sūtra on the Monk Sitting in Meditation Who Died and Was Reborn in Heaven).
20.12
5. The Monk Forbidding the King from Wearing a Turban and Shoes While Bowing to the Buddha and Hearing the Dharma
20.13
According to the ordinary rules of the inner Dharma, those who enter a monastery to listen to the Dharma or pay homage to the Buddha must remove their turbans and caps. At that time, there was a king whose head had naturally little hair and was furthermore afflicted with sores; he also wore leather shoes on his feet. Relying on his nobility and honor, he wrapped his head with fine cloth and entered the hall to listen to the scriptures. The king said to the monk, “Expound the Dharma for me.” The monk said, “The Tathāgata has instructed that the Dharma is not to be expounded to one wearing leather shoes on their feet.” Hearing this, the king harbored resentment, immediately took off his leather shoes, and said to the monk: “Quickly expound the Dharma to satisfy my mind! If you go against my original intention, I will cut off your head.” The monk told the king, “Furthermore, the Tathāgata's prohibitory precepts state that the Dharma must not be expounded to one whose head is covered.” The king, raging with fury, displayed his royal majesty and said, “You wish to humiliate me! Now I have stripped away everything and uncovered my head to listen to you expound the Dharma. If you cannot unravel the knots of my ignorance, I will cut your body into three pieces!” The monk spoke a verse:
20.14
“Not with an impure mind
should it be shown to an angry person.
One who wishes to know the Dharma
expounded by the Samyaksaṃbuddha,
all who have eliminated arrogance,
whose minds are exceedingly pure,
and who can abandon harmful intent,
are only then able to hear the true Dharma.”
20.15
The king felt ashamed in his countenance and humiliated by his shadow. He immediately rose from his seat, cast his five limbs to the ground, took refuge, and sought the eradication of the faults of his body, speech, and mind. Kneeling on both knees with palms joined, he asked the monk, “May I ask whether this verse came from the Tathāgata's divine mouth, or did you, Venerable One, speak it after discerning my mind?” The monk told the king, “This verse was spoken by the Tathāgata long ago.” The king reflected: “How wonderful is the Great Sage! His knowledge of the three clearances penetrates everything without obstruction, knowing that in the future there would be someone like me with an angry and harmful mind. Now I deeply repent and will not create new offenses.” The monk expounded the Dharma, and right on his seat, all dust and defilement were eliminated, and the king attained the purification of the Dharma-eye (extracted from the Sūtra on the Beggar Generating an Evil Mind).
20.16
6. The Monk Cultivating the Contemplation of Impurity and Attaining the Path of a Srotaāpanna
20.17
When the Buddha was in Śrāvastī, there was a certain monk who went daily outside the city to the wilderness and charnel grounds along a road that passed through another person’s field. Seeing him, the field's owner became angry: “What sort of religious practitioner is this, who comes and goes daily without cultivating virtue?” He then questioned the monk: “What kind of mendicant are you, freely crisscrossing through my field until a human path has formed?” The monk replied, “I have a dispute and have come seeking witnesses.” At that time, the field's owner, connected by past karma, was due to be saved; so he followed the monk, secretly shadowing his steps. He saw that in the charnel ground, corpses and skeletons were scattered about, bloated and foul-smelling, devoured by birds and beasts, strewn all over the place. Some had been completely eaten, others only partially, resembling ash-colored doves, with maggots swarming over them, emitting a stench unbearable to approach. Crows, magpies, foxes, dogs, old vultures, and horned owls were eating the human corpses. The monk raised his hand and said to that man, “These birds and beasts are my witnesses.” The man asked, “Why are these birds and beasts witnesses? With whom are you, monk, currently disputing?” The monk replied: “The sickness of the mind has many outpourings and afflictions. I contemplate these skeletons, discerning their foul discharges, and then return to my cell to contemplate my own body from head to foot, finding it no different from them. Yet this mind races in ten thousand directions, chasing after illusions and falsities, and phenomena such as sights, sounds, scents, tastes, and subtle touch. I now wish to recognize the origin of the mind. You, mind, must now give rise to this thought: do not lead me into the hells and the hungry ghosts! I am currently an ordinary worldling, not yet freed from the fetters; yet this thief of a mind refuses to obey my command. For this reason, I go daily to the wilderness, expounding for it the notion of foul discharges and impurity. I again admonish the mind: ‘You are a hasty, violent, chaotic, erroneous, and unsettled mind; you must change now and not create evil conditions!’” When the field owner heard the monk’s instruction, he wiped away tears with his hands, choking with grief and unable to speak. For ten thousand years during the time of Kāśyapa Buddha, that field owner had cultivated the contemplation of impurity; he immediately discerned the thirty-six bodily constituents and their foul discharges and impurity. At that moment, both the monk and the field owner attained the path of a srotaāpanna right there in that great, fearsome charnel ground in the wilderness (extracted from the Sūtra on the Monk Seeking Witnesses).
20.18
7. The Blind Monk Asking Someone to Thread His Needle, Hearing the Dharma and Attaining the Path
20.19
There was a blind monk who could see nothing with his eyes, yet was sewing robes with his hands. At that time, the thread slipped from the needle, and he said, “Who loves merit? Thread the needle for me.” At that moment, the Buddha came to where he was and said to the monk, “I am a person who loves merit; I have come to thread it for you.” The monk recognized the Buddha’s voice, quickly rose, paid homage, and said to the Buddha: “The Buddha's merit is already complete; why do you say you love merit?” The Buddha replied, “Although my merit is already complete, I deeply understand the causes and effects of merit. Among all sentient beings, I have attained the foremost supreme state because of this merit; therefore, monk, I praise merit.” Next, the Buddha expounded the Dharma for him. At that time, this monk attained the purification of the Dharma-eye, and his physical eyes became bright again (extracted from the tenth fascicle of the Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa).
20.20
8. The Tripiṭaka Monk in Shabby Clothes Who Was Constantly Hungry, but Received Food in Fine Robes
20.21
A Tripiṭaka monk of Kaśmīra who practiced the āraṇyaka rules went to a royal monastery where a great assembly was being held. The gatekeeper, seeing his coarse and ragged robes, barred the gate and would not let him proceed. This happened repeatedly; because of his shabby robes, he could never enter. He then devised an expedient: he borrowed fine robes and came back. The gatekeeper did not forbid him. Once he arrived and sat in the assembly, he received all kinds of delicious food, which he first offered to his robes. The people asked him, “Why do you do this?” He replied, “I, a monk, came many times and was repeatedly denied entry. Now, solely on account of these robes, I am able to sit here and receive all kinds of delicious food. Therefore, I first give it to the robes” (extracted from the fourth fascicle of the Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa).
20.22
9. A Son of Good Family Who Went Forth, for Whom the Buddha Verified the Pure Dharma of the Noble Ones Concerning Desirous Love
20.23
At that time there was a son of good family who abandoned his home, left his wife, cast off all his kin, and went forth to become a śramaṇa. His wife was shapely and exquisite; seeing that her husband had left home, she remarried. When the son of good family heard this, longing thoughts arose in his mind as he remembered making merry with his wife. He became sorrowful, distressed, and distraught, no longer taking delight in cultivating the pure brahma-practice together [with the Order], and arose to return home. When the monks heard of this, they went and reported it to the Buddha. The Buddha summoned him and, for his sake, dispelled the defilements of foolish lust and worldly toil, bringing all his thoughts to rest. Thereupon, the son of good family immediately realized the holy and noble Dharma. At that time, the monks said to the Bhagavat, "Were it not for the Tathāgata, who could accomplish such a thing?" [The Buddha] told the monks, "It is not only in this life that this monk's mind was constantly bound by sensual desire. In the distant past, long ago, there was a king named Fangji (Square-Footprints). The women in his inner palace were beyond count, yet they were wanton, contentious, and refused to live in harmony. Right after a quarrel, [the queen] left the palace and departed. Fangji searched for her without knowing where she had gone; he was sorrowful and unhappy, unable to dispel his grief. At that time there was an ascetic (ṛṣi) endowed with the five supernormal powers, who could fly by supernormal foot-power and possessed boundless majesty, named Wule (Joyless). He was flying through the sky and suddenly came down. For [the king's] sake he expounded the perils of sensual love and the virtue of renouncing desire. [The king] went forth to practice the Path, cultivated the four brahma-practices, and after his life ended, he was reborn in the Brahmā heaven." The Buddha told the monks, "The King Fangji of that time was this very monk; the ascetic Wule was my own person." (Extracted from the Nalai jing)
20.24
10. The Seven Caṇḍāla Sons Coerced into Execution and Slain by the King
20.25
Anciently, a caṇḍāla family gave birth to seven sons. The six elder brothers attained the fruit of srotāpanna, while the youngest remained an ordinary person. The mother, a caṇḍāla woman, had attained the fruit of anāgāmin. All seven brothers had received the five precepts. According to the customary protocol of that country, caṇḍālas carried out executions. Whenever men or women in the country committed murder, theft, sexual misconduct, or other grave offenses, the caṇḍālas were always ordered to execute them. At that time, the king summoned the eldest son and said, "There is a criminal condemned to die. You must go and execute him." He bowed and stated his plea, "I earnestly pray for your great indulgence. I have received the five precepts and guard my conduct with utmost care; I do not dare even kill an ant, and cannot commit such an evil deed. I would rather kill myself than dare violate the precepts." The king was enraged and ordered that he be executed in the marketplace. He again addressed the king, "My body is the king's subject, but my mind is my own possession. If you wish to kill me, kill me; I cannot obey your command." The king then had him beheaded. Next, he summoned the younger brothers in turn. All six said, "Having received the precepts, we do not dare commit murder." The king's wrath flared violently, and he had them all put to death. Next, he again summoned the youngest brother; both the mother and son came together. Seeing the mother come, the king was doubly enraged: "When the former six sons were executed, the mother did not accompany them. Now that I summon the youngest son, why have you come?" The mother said, "May you grant me a hearing to explain myself. The former six sons had all attained the path of a srotāpanna. Even if the Great King were to grind their bodies into dust, they would never give rise to an evil thought as small as a single hair. But now, this youngest one remains an ordinary person. Though his body cultivates goodness, he has not yet attained the holy Dharma. Therefore, I was concerned about my son: since he has not yet attained the Path, he might lose his resolve, fear the king's decree, cherish his own physical life, break the precepts, and carry out the execution. At the break-up of his body and the end of his life, he would fall into the Taishan hell. It is out of pity and love for my son that I have escorted him here." The king asked the mother again, "Did the six sons who died before all attain the path of a srotāpanna?" She answered, "All of them attained it." The king asked the mother again, "What path has the mother herself attained?" The mother answered, "I have attained the path of an anāgāmin." Hearing these words, the king threw himself upon the ground, crying out his guilt and reproaching himself: "I have created a root of great transgression! Harboring evil intent, I have slain six srotāpannas!" His body and mind were distressed, and he could not sit still upon his mat. He immediately had fragrant oil, ghee, and firewood prepared, took the six corpses, and cremated them. He erected six stūpas to make offerings for his deed of slaughter. Three times a day he repented, wishing to eradicate his sin and make it gradually fade away. He also distributed wealth to provide for the old mother. On uposatha days, he repeatedly repented, hoping that his sin would be lessened and that he would escape hell. (Extracted from the Ciren busha jing)
20.26
Diverse Phenomena from the Sūtras and Vinaya, Fascicle 20
Linked texts (1)
- 經律異相 — Classical Chinese