法苑珠林 96.25

96.25

又曰。日有六時念善大好。若不能具一時亦好。如是一念其心亦好。皆能滅惡也。見其言詞真正音句和雅。將欲致問。不久而滅。於是佛興翹心精進繞塔念誦。又聞空中聲曰。汝勤持齋願令眾生得不食身。又令餓鬼身常飽滿。觀其感被皆崖力也。初登柴樓。有沙門僧育。在大建昌寺門。見有火光高四五丈廣三四丈。從地而起。上衝樓邊。久久乃滅。又初焚日。州寺大德沙門寶海。問曰。等是一火。何故菩薩受燒都無痛想。崖曰。眾生有相故。故痛耳。又曰。常云。代眾生受苦為實得不。答曰。既為心代受。何以不得。又曰。菩薩自燒眾生罪熟。各自受苦何由可代。答曰。猶如燒手。一念善根即能滅惡。豈非代耶。乃謂侍者智炎曰。我滅度後好供養病人。並難可測。其本多是諸佛聖人乘權應化。自非大心平等何能恭敬。此是實行也。坐中疑崖非聖人者。乃的呼其人名曰。諸佛應世形無定方。或作醜陋諸病。乃至畜生下類。檀越慎之勿妄輕也。及將動火皆覩異相。或見圓蓋覆崖有道人處其蓋上。或見五色光如人形像在四門者。或見柴樓之上如日出形并雨諸華。大者如兩[百*(升-┬+下)][笐-〦+(兜-儿)]許。小者如鍾乳片。五色交亂紛紛而下。接取非一。棖觸皆消。及崖滅後。郫縣人。於郫江邊。見空中有油絡轝。崖在其上身服班納黃。偏袒紫被捉錫杖。後有五六百僧。皆罩竹繖乘空西沒。又潼州靈果寺僧慧策者。承崖滅度。乃為設大齋。於故市中至於食前。忽見黑雲從東南來。翳日癊會。仍雨龍毛。五色分明。長者尺五。短猶六寸。又雨諸華幡香煙。滿空繽紛。大眾通見。又初收心舍利。至常住寺中皆見華叢含盛光榮庭宇。又阿迦膩吒寺僧慧勝者。抱病在床不見焚身。心懷悵恨。夢崖將一沙彌來。帊裹三[百*(升-┬+下)]許香并檀屑。分四聚以繞於勝。下火焚香。勝悑曰。凡夫耳。未能燒身也。崖曰。無悑。用熏病耳。煨燼既盡。即覺爽健。又請現瑞。答曰。我在益州詭名崖耳。真名光明遍照寶藏菩薩。勝從覺後力倍於常。有時在外村為崖設會。勝自唱噵曰。潼州福重道俗見瑞。我等障厚都無所見。因即應聲二百人許。悉見天華如雪紛紛滿天映日而下。至中食竟華形漸大。如七寸槃。皆作金色。明淨曜目。四眾競接都不可得。或緣樹登高。望欲取之。皆飛上去。又成都民王僧貴者。自崖焚後舉家斷肉。後因事故將欲解素。私自平論。時屬二更。忽聞門外喚檀越聲。比至開門見一道人。語曰。慎勿食肉。言情酸切行啼而去。從後走趁似近而遠。忽失所在。又焚身後八月中。獽人牟難當者。就嶠山頂行獵。搦箭弓弩舉眼望鹿。忽見崖騎一青麖。獵者驚曰。汝在益州已燒身死。今那在此。崖曰。誰道許誑人耳。汝能燒身不。射獵得罪也。汝當勤力作田矣。便爾別去。又至冬間。崖兄子於溪中。忽聞山谷諠動若數萬眾。舉目望見。崖從以兩僧。執錫而行。因追及之。欲捉袈裟。崖曰。汝可勞捉我。乃指前鷄猪曰。此等音聲皆有詮述。如汝等語。他人不解。餘國言音。汝亦不解。人畜有殊皆有佛性。但為惡業故受此形。汝但力田莫養禽畜。言極周委。故其往往現形預知人意。率皆此也。具如沙門忘名集。及費長房三寶錄。并益部集異記。

He also said, “The six periods of the day are wonderful for mindful wholesome thought. If you cannot manage them all, even one period is fine. In this way, even a single mindful thought is fine: all can eradicate evil.” Seeing that his words were upright and true, and his phrases harmonious and elegant, someone was about to put a question, but [the monk] expired not long after. Thereupon, with roused aspiration, Foxing diligently circumambulated the stupa and recited. He also heard a voice in the sky say, “May your diligent observance of the fast cause sentient beings to attain bodies that need no food, and cause hungry ghosts always to be sated.” Observing these inspirations and influences, they were all through Sengya’s power. When [Sengya] first ascended the pyre tower, the śramaṇa Sengyu was at the gate of Great Jianchang Temple and saw flames forty to fifty spans high and thirty to forty spans wide rise from the ground, surging up beside the tower, dying away only after a long time. Furthermore, on the first day of the burning, the venerable śramaṇa Baohai of the prefectural temple asked, “It is the same fire; why does the Bodhisattva experience being burned with no sensation of pain at all?” Sengya replied, “It is because sentient beings cling to characteristics that there is pain.” [Baohai] asked again, “It is always said that one takes on suffering on behalf of sentient beings—can this truly be achieved or not?” He answered, “Since one takes it on with the mind on their behalf, why could it not be achieved?” [Baohai] asked again, “The Bodhisattva burns himself, but when the sins of sentient beings ripen, each receives their own suffering; how can one take their place?” He answered, “It is just like burning the hand: a single thought of a root of goodness can eradicate evil. How is that not taking their place?” He then said to his attendant Zhiyan, “After my parinirvāṇa, attend well to the sick. They are truly unfathomable: most are fundamentally Buddhas and holy ones who ride on skillful means to manifest in response [to conditions]. Unless one has a great and impartial mind, how could one show them reverence? This is true practice.” Among those seated was someone who doubted whether Sengya was a holy one; [Sengya] called that person directly by name and said, “When the Buddhas respond to the world, their forms have no fixed appearance. Sometimes they appear ugly and afflicted with various illnesses, or even as lowly kinds of beasts. Dānapati, take care not to lightly disparage them!” When the fire was about to be lit, all witnessed extraordinary signs. Some saw a round parasol cover Sengya, with a monk seated atop the canopy. Some saw five-colored light in human shapes at the four gates. Others saw what looked like a rising sun atop the pyre tower, with showers of flowers—the larger ones the size of two bamboo hats, the smaller ones like fragments of stalactite—falling profusely in a blend of five colors. Many caught them, but at the touch of a hand they all vanished. After Sengya passed away, a person of Pi County saw a net-draped litter in the sky beside the Pi River. Sengya was seated on it, dressed in a patched yellow robe, his right shoulder bared with a purple mantle, grasping a khakkhara. Behind him were five to six hundred monks, all sheltered by bamboo umbrellas, traveling through the sky and vanishing into the west. Furthermore, the monk Huice of Lingguo Temple in Tongzhou, upon hearing of Sengya’s parinirvāṇa, held a great vegetarian feast for him. In the old market place, just before the meal, a dark cloud suddenly came from the southeast, casting a cool shade over the assembly. Then rained down dragon hairs, distinct in five colors, the longer ones a foot and a half, the shorter ones still six inches. Flowers, banners, and incense smoke also rained down, filling the air in profusion, seen by the entire assembly. Furthermore, when the heart-śarīra was first retrieved and brought into the resident temple, all saw flowering bushes burst into bloom, brightening the courtyards. Also, the monk Huisheng of Akaniṣṭha Temple, who was confined to bed with illness, had not witnessed the self-immolation and felt deep regret. In a dream, Sengya came with a novice, carrying three dou of incense and sandalwood shavings wrapped in a cloth. He divided them into four heaps surrounding Sheng and set fire to burn the incense. Sheng said in terror, “I am but an ordinary person; I cannot burn my body!” Sengya said, “Fear not; this is only to fumigate your illness.” Once the embers were burnt out, [Sheng] immediately felt refreshed and healthy. He then requested a miraculous sign. [Sengya] replied, “In Yizhou, ‘Sengya’ was only my assumed name; my real name is Bodhisattva Brightly Illuminating Treasure Treasury.” After Sheng awoke, his strength was doubled compared to normal. Later, when an assembly was held for Sengya in an outlying village, Sheng led the chanting himself, saying, “Tongzhou had great merit, so monastics and laity saw miraculous signs; our obscurations are heavy, so we have seen nothing.” Thereupon, in response to his words, about two hundred people all saw heavenly flowers fall like swirling snow across the sky, glowing against the sun. By the end of the midday meal, the flowers gradually grew as large as seven-inch plates, all of golden hue, pure and dazzling to the eyes. The fourfold assembly vied to catch them, but none could be grasped; some climbed trees and mounted high places hoping to seize them, but they all flew upward. Furthermore, Wang Senggui, a resident of Chengdu, had his entire household abandon meat after Sengya’s self-immolation. Later, due to some business, they were about to break their vegetarianism and privately discussed it among themselves. At the second watch of the night, they suddenly heard a voice outside the gate calling, “Dānapati!” When they opened the door, they saw a monk who said, “Take care not to eat meat!” His words were sorrowful and earnest, and he walked away weeping. They ran after him, but though he seemed near, he remained far, and suddenly disappeared. Furthermore, in the eighth month after the self-immolation, a Rao tribesman named Mu Nandang was hunting on the summit of Qiao Mountain. Holding his arrow and crossbow, he looked up for deer and suddenly saw Sengya riding a blue muntjac. The hunter said in astonishment, “You burned your body and died in Yizhou; how are you here now?” Sengya said, “Who says that? It is only deceiving people! Can you burn your body? Shooting and hunting incur guilt. You should diligently farm the fields.” He then parted and left. In the winter, Sengya’s nephew was by a stream when he suddenly heard a tumult in the mountain valleys as if from tens of thousands of people. Looking up, he saw Sengya followed by two monks, walking while holding khakkharas. He pursued and caught up with him, intending to grasp his kāṣāya. Sengya said, “You need not lay hold of me.” Pointing to the chickens and pigs ahead, he said, “These sounds all have meaning. Just like your words, others do not understand them, and you do not understand the speech of other lands. Humans and animals differ, yet all have the Buddha-nature; it is merely due to unwholesome karma that they receive these forms. You must only work the fields and not raise livestock.” His words were thorough and detailed. Thus, his frequent manifestations and foreknowledge of people’s minds were generally of this nature. All this is fully recorded in the śramaṇa Wangming’s collection, Fei Zhangfang’s Sanbao lu, and the Yibu jiyi ji.