法苑珠林 96.24

96.24

周益州沙門釋僧崖。姓牟氏。而幼年少言不雜徘戲。每游山泉必先禮而後飲。或諦不瞬。坐以終日。人問其故。答曰。是身可惡。我思之耳。後必燒之。及年長從戎毅然綱正。嘗隨伴捕魚。得己分者。用投諸水。謂伴曰。殺非好業。我今舉體皆現生瘡。誓斷獵矣。遂燒其獵具。時獽首領數百人。共築池塞資以養魚。崖率眾重往彼觀望。忽有異蛇。長一尺許。頭尾皆赤。須臾長大乃至丈餘。圍五六尺。獽眾奔散。蛇便趣水舉尾入雲。赤光遍野久久乃滅。尋爾眾聚具論前事。崖曰。此無憂也。但斷殺業蛇不害人。勸停池堰。眾未之許。俄而隄防決壞。遂即出家。以周武成元年六月。於益州城西路首。以布裹左右五指燒之。有問燒指可不痛耶。崖曰。痛由心起心既無痛。指何所痛。時人同號以為僧崖菩薩。或有問曰。似有風疾何不治之。答曰。身皆空耳。知何所治。又曰。根大有對。何謂為空。答曰。四大五根復何住耶。眾服其言。孝愛寺兌法師者。有大見解。承崖發迹。乃率弟子數十人。往彼禮敬。解衣施之。顧大眾曰。真解般若。非徒口說。由是道俗通集倍加崇信。如是經曰。左手指盡。火次掌骨。髓沸上涌將滅火焰。乃以右手殘指挾竹挑之。有問其故。崖曰。緣諸眾生不能行忍。今勸不忍者忍。不燒者燒耳。兼又說法勸勵令行慈斷肉。雖煙焰俱熾以日繼夕。並燒二手眉目不動。又為四眾說法誦經。或及語切詞要義。則頷頭微笑。時或心怠。私有言志。崖顧曰。我在山中初不識字。今聞經語句句與心相應。何不至心靜聽。若乖我者。則空燒此手。何異樵頭耶。於是大眾懍然莫不專肅。其後復告眾曰。末劫輕慢心轉薄淡。見像如木頭。聞經如風過馬耳。今為寫大乘經教故燒身手。欲令倍重佛法也。闔境士女聞者皆來繞數萬匝。崖怡然澄靜容色不動。頻集城西大道談論法化。初有細雨殆將沾漬。便斂心入定即雲散月明。而燒臂掌骨五枚如殘燭燼。忽然各生。並長三寸。白如珂雪。僧尼僉曰。若菩薩滅後。願奉舍利起塔供養。崖乃以口齧新生五骨。拔而折之。吐施大眾曰。可為塔也。至七月十四日。忽有大聲。狀如地動天裂。人畜驚駭。於上空中。或見犬羊龍蛇軍器等像。少時還息。人以事問。崖曰。此無苦也。驚睡三昧耳。吾欲捨身可辦供具。時孝愛寺導禪師。戒行精苦。耆年大德。捨六度錫杖并及紫被贈崖入火。僧淵遠送班納。意願隨身。于時人物諠擾施財山積。初不知二德所送物也。至明日平旦。忽告侍者法陀曰。汝往取導師錫杖紫被及納袈裟來。為吾著之。便往造焚身所。于時道俗十餘萬眾。擁輿而哭。崖曰。但守菩提心。義無哭也。便登高座為眾說法。時時舉目視於薪𧂐。欣然獨笑。又傾右脇而寢。都無氣息。狀若木人。忽起問曰。時將欲至下足。先白眾僧曰。佛法難值。宜共護持。先所積柴壘以為樓。高數十丈。上作乾小室。以油潤之。崖緩步至樓繞旋三匝。禮拜四門便登其上。憑欄下望令念般若。有施主王撰懼曰。我若放火便燒聖人。將獲重罪。崖陰知之。告撰上樓。臂摩頂曰。汝莫憂造樓得罪。乃大福也。促令下火。皆懼畏之。置炬著地。崖以臂挾炬。先燒西北。次及西南。麻燥油濃赫然熾合。於盛火中放火設禮。比第二拜時身已自焦坼。重復一禮。時身踣炭上。及薪盡火滅。骨肉皆化。唯心尚存。赤而且濕。肝腸脾胃猶自相連。更以四十車柴燒之。腸胃雖卷而心如本。兌法師乃命收取葬于塔下。初未燒前。有問者曰。菩薩滅度願示瑞相。崖曰。我身可盡。心不可壞也。眾謂心神無形不由燒蕩。及後心存方知先見。然崖自生及終頻現異相。有數十條。曾於一家將欲受戒。無何笑曰。將捨寶物生疑慮耶。眾相推問。有楊氏婦。欲施銀釵。恐夫責及。因決捨之。有孝愛寺僧佛興者。偏嗜飲噉流俗落度。隨崖輿後。私發願曰。今值聖人誓斷酒肉。及返至寺見黃色人曰。汝能斷肉。大是好事。汝若食一眾生肉。即食一切眾生肉。若又食者。即食一切父母眷屬肉矣。必欲食者。當如死屍中蟲蟲即肉也。

During the Zhou dynasty, there was a śramaṇa from Yizhou named Sengya, whose family name was Mou. In his childhood, he spoke little and did not engage in playful games. Whenever he visited mountain springs, he would always bow before drinking. At times, he would sit staring without blinking for the entire day. When people asked him why, he answered, "This body is despicable; I am merely contemplating it. Later, I will surely burn it." When he grew older, he entered military service, where he was resolute and upright. Once, when joining his companions in catching fish, he took his own share and threw them back into the water, telling his companions, "Killing is no good deed. Now, boils have broken out all over my body. I vow to stop hunting forever." He then burned his hunting gear. At that time, several hundred heads of the indigenous tribes were building a reservoir by damming a stream to raise fish. Sengya led a crowd to go and observe it once more, when suddenly an unusual snake appeared, about a foot long, with both head and tail red. In an instant, it grew to more than a zhang in length and five to six chi in circumference. The indigenous people fled in panic. The snake then headed into the water and raised its tail into the clouds; a red radiance spread throughout the wilderness, extinguishing only after a long while. Shortly afterward, when the crowd gathered to discuss what had happened, Sengya said, "Do not worry about this. If you only put an end to the karma of killing, the snake will not harm people." He urged them to stop damming the reservoir, but the crowd would not agree. Shortly after, the dyke collapsed. He then went forth from household life. In the first year of the Wucheng era of the Zhou dynasty, in the sixth month, at the head of the road west of the city of Yizhou, he wrapped the five fingers of both hands in cloth and set fire to them. When someone asked, "Does it not hurt to burn your fingers?" Sengya replied, "Pain arises from the mind; since the mind feels no pain, what pain could the fingers have?" The people of the time unanimously called him the Sengya Bodhisattva. Someone asked him, "You seem to have a wind disease; why not treat it?" He replied, "The body is entirely empty; what is there to treat?" The person said further, "The faculties and the elements have their counterparts; how can you call them empty?" He replied, "Where, then, do the four great elements and the five faculties abide?" The assembly admired his words. Master Dui of Xiao'ai Temple had profound insight. Learning of Sengya's deeds, he led dozens of disciples to pay homage to him, taking off his robes to offer to him. Turning to the assembly, he said, "He truly understands prajñā, not merely in words." From this, both clergy and laity gathered in full, their veneration and faith redoubling. As the days passed, the fingers of his left hand were consumed, and the fire reached the bones of his palm. The marrow boiled and surged upward, threatening to extinguish the flames, so with the remaining fingers of his right hand he grasped a piece of bamboo to stir them. When someone asked him why, Sengya said, "It is because sentient beings are unable to practice forbearance. Now I urge those who cannot bear it to bear it, and those who do not burn to burn." He also preached the Dharma, encouraging them to practice compassion and abstain from meat. Though the smoke and flames blazed intensely, continuing from day into night, as both his hands burned, his eyebrows and eyes did not move. He also preached the Dharma and recited sūtras for the fourfold assembly. Whenever he reached an urgent word or an essential meaning, he would nod his head and smile faintly. At times, someone in the crowd grew slack in mind and privately muttered. Sengya looked back and said, "While in the mountains, I was entirely illiterate. Now, hearing the words of the sūtra, sentence by sentence they accord with my mind. Why do you not listen quietly with utmost devotion? If you contradict my purpose, I burn these hands in vain; how would it differ from burning firewood?" Thereupon the assembly trembled with awe, and all became solemn and attentive. Later, he addressed the assembly again, saying, "In the final kalpa, careless arrogance increases while faith wanes. People see Buddha statues as mere pieces of wood and hear the sūtras like the wind passing by a horse's ears. Now, for the sake of transcribing the teachings of the Mahāyāna scriptures, I burn my body and hands, wishing to make people revere the Buddha's Dharma doubly." The men and women of the entire region who heard of this all came to circumambulate him tens of thousands of times. Sengya remained serene, calm, and composed. Repeatedly gathering by the main avenue west of the city, he discussed the Dharma and its transformations. Initially, a fine drizzle began to fall, nearly soaking them; he then gathered his mind and entered samādhi, whereupon the clouds dispersed and the moon shone brightly. The five bones of his burned arms and palms, resembling remnants of burnt candles, suddenly sprouted anew, each growing three inches long, white as mother-of-pearl or snow. The monks and nuns said together, "After the Bodhisattva passes into extinction, we wish to receive his relics and erect a stūpa for offerings." Sengya then bit the five newly grown bones with his mouth, snapped them off, and spat them out as a gift to the assembly, saying, "These may serve for the stūpa." On the fourteenth day of the seventh month, there was suddenly a loud noise, like the earth shaking and the sky splitting open. People and animals were terrified. In the sky above, some saw apparitions of dogs, sheep, dragons, snakes, and military weapons; after a short while, they subsided. When people asked about this, Sengya said, "There is no suffering in this; it is merely the samādhi of awakening from sleep. I intend to abandon my body; you may prepare the offerings." At that time, Dhyāna Master Dao of Xiao'ai Temple, an elder of great virtue who observed the precepts with rigorous austerity, gave up his six-paramitā khakkhara and purple quilt to present to Sengya for entering the fire. The monk Yuanyuan sent a patched patchwork robe from afar, wishing it to accompany his body. At that time, people were clamouring and offerings of wealth piled up like mountains, so Sengya did not at first notice the items sent by the two virtuous masters. At dawn the following day, he suddenly said to his attendant Fatuo, "Go fetch the Master's khakkhara, the purple quilt, and the patched kāṣāya, and put them on me." He then set out for the place where he was to burn his body. At that time, more than a hundred thousand members of the clergy and laity surrounded his carriage, weeping. Sengya said, "Just preserve the bodhicitta; according to principle, there should be no weeping." He then ascended the high seat to preach the Dharma for the assembly. From time to time, he looked up at the pyre and smiled happily to himself. He then lay down on his right side, completely without breath, looking like a wooden statue. Suddenly, he rose and asked, "The time is near; I shall step down." First, he addressed the saṃgha, saying, "The Buddha's Dharma is difficult to encounter; you should protect and uphold it together." The firewood previously accumulated had been piled into a tower several tens of zhang high, atop which was built a small dry chamber, soaked with oil. Sengya walked unhurriedly to the tower, circumambulated it three times, bowed toward the four directions, and then ascended it. Leaning against the balustrade, he looked down and instructed them to be mindful of prajñā. A donor named Wang Zhuan said in fear, "If I set the fire, I will be burning a holy man, and will incur grave sin." Sengya knew his thoughts telepathically, told Zhuan to climb the tower, stroked his head with his arm, and said, "Do not worry that building the tower will incur sin; it is great merit." He urged them to light the fire, but they were all frightened and put the torches down on the ground. Sengya held the torch under his arm and first lit the northwest, then the southwest. The hemp was dry, and the oil thick; the blaze roared and merged together. Amid the raging fire, Sengya cast aside the firebrand and paid homage. By his second bow, his body was already scorched and cracked. He made one more bow, and his body fell forward onto the burning coals. When the wood was exhausted and the fire extinguished, the flesh and bones had all been transformed, yet only the heart remained, red and moist; the liver, intestines, spleen, and stomach were still joined together. They burned it again with forty cartloads of firewood; although the intestines and stomach shrank, the heart remained as before. Master Dui then ordered them to collect and bury it beneath a stūpa. Before he was burned, someone asked, "When the Bodhisattva enters extinction, we pray that you show an auspicious sign." Sengya replied, "My body can be exhausted, but my heart cannot be destroyed." The assembly thought the mental consciousness was formless and could not be burned away anyway; only later, when the physical heart remained, did they understand his foresight. Throughout his life until his end, Sengya frequently displayed extraordinary signs, dozens of them. Once, when he was about to receive precepts at someone's home, he suddenly laughed and said, "Are you about to donate a treasure, but hesitation has arisen?" When people made inquiries, they found that a wife of the Yang family had wished to donate a silver hairpin, but feared her husband would blame her, and so had delayed giving it. There was a monk named Foxing at Xiao'ai Temple who was excessively fond of drinking and eating, behaving casually like a layman. Following behind Sengya's carriage, he made a private vow, saying, "Now that I have encountered a holy man, I vow to abstain from wine and meat." When he returned to the temple, he saw a yellow-complexioned man who said to him, "That you can abstain from meat is a great and good thing. If you eat the meat of one sentient being, you are eating the meat of all sentient beings. If you eat it again, you are eating the meat of all your parents and relatives. If you must eat it, you should see it as the maggots in a corpse; the maggots are just the meat itself."