法苑珠林 17
English (machine translation) 17
- Language
- English
17.1
Compiled by the śramaṇa Shi Daoshi of Ximing Temple
17.2
Section 6: Reverence for the Buddha, Part 5
Section 7: Reverence for the Dharma: Miracles of Samantabhadra (Now entering the degenerate age of the Dharma, those who practice contemplation are rare, so the scriptures are not recorded here; four miracles are recounted for now.)
17.3
Empress Dowager Lu Zhao of the Song
Śramaṇa Shi Daowen of the Song
Śramaṇa Shi Daojing of the Song
Śramaṇa Shi Puming of the Qi
17.4
In the fourth year of the Daming era, Empress Dowager Lu Zhao of the Song commissioned an image of the Bodhisattva Samantabhadra riding a white elephant in a jeweled carriage, installing it in the meditation hall of Zhongxing Temple. Consequently, she sponsored a scripture lecture at the temple. On the eighth day of the tenth month of that year, when the vegetarian feast was concluded and the assembly dissolved, two hundred monks had gathered. At that time, the temple buildings were newly constructed, and the emperor paid great attention to it, his imperial carriage visiting several times every ten days. The monastic assembly was disciplined and orderly, and the imperial guard was strict. On that day, the names of the monks were fixed for taking their seats. After a while, a monk was suddenly seated among the ranks, whose refined and outstanding appearance startled the entire hall. The patron of the feast exchanged more than a hundred words with him, when suddenly he was seen no more. The entire gathering looked on together and recognized him as a divine person.
17.5
During the Daming era of the Song, there was a monastic director, Dharma Master Daowen, who resided in Moling county. Having observed the Empress Dowager—whose profound insight was tranquil and bright, whose sagacious tokens secretly resonated, and who cleansed her thoughts in the pure sanctuary to delve into the ultimate realm, her fame and elegance shaking the realm and her spiritual deeds transcending the cosmos—he thereupon conceived the design to cast and sculpt an image displaying divine splendor, modeling a magnificent statue of Samantabhadra coming in procession. It exhausted worldly treasures and thoroughly perfected celestial adornments. When the lecture and vegetarian feast he provided were concluded, on the eighth day of this month, the donations were restricted to an assembly whose register of names had been fixed in advance, and they were led to their seats without any increase or decrease in number. As the chanting of the sūtra was half done and the sun reached its noon peak, an extraordinary monk was suddenly seen sitting among the seats. His deportment was dignified and serene, and his presence was outstanding and refined. The entire assembly stared, but none recognized him. The host of the feast asked, 'What is the master's name?' He replied, 'My name is Huiming.' He asked which temple he lived in, and the monk replied, 'I come from Tian'an.' In the space between these words, he abruptly vanished. The entire hall was struck with astonishment, and the whole assembly fell into solemn contemplation. They considered it an illumination of auspicious omens and the revelation of an unseen response: the Purple Mountain could be seen, and the Flower Terrace was not far away. Indeed, we have heard that when utmost sincerity evokes a response, the sun's course turns back and the planetary coordinates shift; when a purified mind is dedicated, stones open and springs gush forth. How much more so when imperial virtue encompasses all operations and august merit fully harmonizes, benevolence penetrating the remote heavens and universal principle pervading the unseen realms! Thus, when noble kings and flourishing scholars make their mark in the era of Daming, inspiring the wondrous body [of the bodhisattva] to appear in person before the chamber of the dragon's flight, the meaning seems to be: Your Majesty's candle of wisdom illumines the four seas, and your brilliance equals the sun and moon; hence he used 'Huiming' (Wisdom-Brightness) as his personal name. Succeeding Heaven in establishing prosperity to bequeath infinite blessings; hence he used 'Tian'an' (Heavenly Peace) as the temple's name. The divine foundation grows ever more distant, and the rule of the Way becomes solidified; the nine regions recognize peace, and all myriad creatures rejoice together. He respectfully submitted this report to the county administration to expound upon the heavenly blessing.
17.6
The monk Shi Daojing of the Song dynasty was a native of Haozhi in Fufeng. His original surname was Ma. His learning and practice were pure and refined, and he achieved renown at a tender age. In the ninth month of the second year of Yuanjia, he held a Samantabhadra fast for someone in Luoyang. There were about forty persons, both monastic and lay. Seven days had passed, and it was just time for the midday meal when suddenly a man wearing trousers and a tunic rode up on horseback before the hall. He dismounted and bowed to the Buddha. Jing regarded him as an ordinary man and did not treat him with unusual ritual respect. The man mounted his horse, brandished his whip, and suddenly vanished from sight. Thereupon, a radiant red light was seen blazing across the sky, vanishing only after a long time. Three years later, in the twelfth month, he held another Samantabhadra fast at the home of a layperson. On the day it was about to conclude, two monks whose appearance and robes were ordinary came directly to bow to the Buddha. Those in the assembly thought they were common monks and did not show great reverence. Someone casually asked where they dwelt, and they replied, "We reside in the village ahead." At the time, among the lay assembly, there was a man named Zhang Dao, who sensed that they were extraordinary and bowed with utmost devotion. The monks walked out the gate for several tens of paces when suddenly a cloud of flying dust shot straight up toward heaven. Pursuing them with their eyes, they no longer knew where the monks were. In the seventh year, Jing came with a fellow student to travel to the capital. At that time, the Minister of Works He Shangzhi had just founded the Nanjian Vihāra, and Jing took up lodging there. In the middle of the night, he suddenly saw four men riding a new carriage, followed by four messengers, who arrived inside his room and called him to ride with them. Daojing was startled by their nocturnal arrival and, suspicious, did not speak. In the darkness, he unconsciously boarded the carriage. Presently, they arrived behind the commandery at Shen Bridge, where he saw an exalted noble wearing a headdress and a unlined gown of coarse cloth, seated on a couch. The staff and parasol resembled a jewelled canopy, and the retinue and guard numbered several hundred, all clad in yellow garments. Seeing Jing, he said in surprise: "The practitioner who walks the pratyutpanna-[samādhi] has reached far with a dedicated mind; I only wished to know his whereabouts. Why did you bring him here?" He immediately sent people to escort him back. When Jing arrived outside the vihāra gate, he lost sight of the escorts. The gate was locked as before. He knocked and called for a long time. The monks within the monastery were all startled and reported to one another, then opened the gate to let him in. They examined the room where he dwelt; the door was still bolted as before. (The above three testimonies are taken from the *Mingxiang ji*.)
17.7
At Upper Dinglin Temple of Zhai, there was the monk Shi Puming. His surname was Zhang, and he was a native of Linwei. He went forth from household life in his youth; his character was pure, and he ate vegetarian food and wore hempen clothing, taking repentance and recitation as his practice. He recited the *Lotus* and *Vimalakīrti* sūtras. Whenever he chanted them, he had distinct robes and a distinct seat, never mixing them with ordinary things. Every time he reached the "Encouragement [of Samantabhadra]" chapter, he would behold Samantabhadra riding an elephant and standing before him. When he recited the *Vimalakīrti Sūtra*, he also heard celestial music played in the air. Furthermore, he was skilled in divine dhāraṇīs, and all whom he treated were cured. The wife of his fellow townsman Wang Daozhen fell ill, and they invited Ming to come and chant incantations. As soon as Ming entered the gate, the woman fainted. Shortly thereafter, a creature like a leopard cat, several feet long, was seen darting out from the dog hole, and because of this she recovered. Ming once walked by a water shrine; the shamans and sorcerers themselves said that when the spirits saw him, they all fled. In the Xiaojian reign of the Song, he passed away at the age of eighty-five. (This one testimony is taken from the Tang *Continued Biographies of Eminent Monks*.)
17.8
Testimonies of Avalokiteśvara (A brief selection of twenty testimonies)
17.9
Xu Yi, Master of Writing of the Qin;
Bi Lan, lay practitioner of the Qin;
Zhu Fayi, monk of the Jin;
Zhu Fachun, monk of the Jin;
Shi Kaida, monk of the Jin;
Guo Xuan, lay practitioner of the Jin;
Pan Daoxiu, lay practitioner of the Jin;
Luan Xun, lay practitioner of the Jin;
Shi Fazhi, monk of the Jin;
Nangong Zi'ao of the Jin;
Daotai, monk of the Jin;
Sun Daode, lay practitioner of the Jin;
Liu Du, lay practitioner of the Jin;
Dou Chuan, lay practitioner of the Jin;
Zhu Fachun, monk of the Jin;
Zhang Xing, lay practitioner of the Song;
Song Yan, lay practitioner of the Song;
Shi Daotai, monk of the Wei;
Sun Jingde, lay practitioner of the Wei;
Shi Fali, monk of the Wei.
17.10
Xu Yi of the Qin was a native of Gaolu. He had revered the Dharma from his youth and served as Master of Writing under Fu Jian. At the end of Fu Jian's reign, the flames of war flared up, and rebels captured Yi and intended to execute him. They buried both his feet and braided his hair to a tree. During the night, he focused his thoughts entirely on Avalokiteśvara. After a short while, he fell asleep. In a dream, a man said to him: "Matters are critical now; what leisure have you to sleep?" Yi woke up startled and saw that all the guards were exhausted and asleep. He tried to exert himself: his hands and hair were freed, and his feet were also released. He thereupon fled. After walking a hundred paces or more, he hid in a small thicket of grass. He then heard the pursuers riding back and forth, their torches arrayed like stars, circling this thicket one after another, yet in the end none saw him. At dawn, the rebels dispersed, and he sought refuge in a monastery in Ye, thereby escaping.
17.11
Bi Lan of the Qin was a native of Dongping. He had revered the Dharma from his youth. Following Murong Chui's northern expedition, he was captured by the barbarians. He fled on a single horse, and the barbarian cavalry pursuing him were about to catch up. Lan recited and remembered Avalokiteśvara with utmost devotion. Having managed to escape, he entered the deep mountains, lost his way, and became disoriented. Once more, he focused his mind in taking refuge. In the middle of the night, he saw a practitioner wearing monk's robes and holding a tin staff, who showed him the path. He thus found his way back and arrived safely at home.
17.12
On Mount Shining in the Jin lived Zhu Fayi, a monk of the Xingning era of the Jin. He was thoroughly versed in numerous scriptures and was especially skilled in the *Lotus Sūtra*; his disciples usually numbered more than a hundred. In the second year of Xian'an, he suddenly suffered from an ailment of heart-qi. He constantly kept Avalokiteśvara in his thoughts. He then dreamed of a person who opened his abdomen and washed his intestines; upon waking, his illness was cured. Fu Liang often said: "My late father associated with Master Yi without estrangement; whenever he spoke of the divine anomalies of Avalokiteśvara, both great and small were reverent and solemn."
17.13
The monk Zhu Fachun of the Jin was the abbot of Xianyi Temple in Shanyin. During the Yuanxing era of the Jin, he was constructing the temple's outer wall and went to the Shanglan Isle to purchase timber. The route passed through a lake. The owner of the timber was a woman who had to go with him to where the timber was located to agree upon the price, so she took the same boat with him. After they entered the great lake, a violent storm arose at dusk, with waves like mountains. Chun's boat was small, and water flooded in; their lives hung by a thread. He reflected that, having accumulated no merit in his conduct, he had suddenly met with this calamity; and moreover, traveling together with a woman, he felt deeply ashamed and terrified. He then single-mindedly recited the *Avalokiteśvara Sūtra*. In an instant, a large boat drifted swiftly toward Chun. It was already night, and all other travelers had stopped. Chun considered to himself that there ought not to be such a drifting boat, and suspected it was divine power. They both crossed over into it, and the small boat sank immediately. The large vessel tossed and pitched with the waves, and presently reached the shore.
17.14
The monk Shi Kaida of the Jin ascended a ridge in the second year of Long'an to harvest licorice root, where he was captured by the Qiang. In that year, there was a great famine, and the Qiang and barbarians ate one another. They placed Da in an enclosure, intending to devour him. More than ten people who were already in the enclosure were boiled and butchered by the Qiang by nightfall, with only Da remaining. From the moment Da was captured, he secretly recited the *Avalokiteśvara Sūtra* without slackening in his mind. When the next day arrived and he was about to be devoured, at the very first light of dawn, a great tiger suddenly approached the group of Qiang directly, roaring in fury. The Qiang were terrified and fled in all directions. The tiger then came forward, bit the wood of the enclosure, and opened a small gap large enough for a person to pass through; then it slowly walked away. At first, seeing the tiger gnawing at the fence, Da thought he was surely going to be harmed; but once the fence was breached and the tiger did not enter, he suspected something extraordinary was at work, likely the power of Avalokiteśvara. Estimating that the Qiang would not return immediately, he crawled through the fence and fled, traveling by night and hiding by day, thus managing to escape.
17.15
Guo Xuanzhi of the Jin was a native of Taiyuan. In the fourth year of Yixi, he served as Marshal in the Liangzhou Administration under Yang Siping. When Yang arbitrarily executed Fan Yuanzhi and others against the law, Xuan was also arrested and imprisoned with him. He single-mindedly turned his refuge to Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva. On a later night, just as he was about to sleep, he suddenly saw with his own eyes the radiance of the Bodhisattva illuminating the prison. Xuan looked upon it, bowed in worship, prayed, and made vows. After a long while, it vanished. Shortly thereafter, Xuanzhi alone received a gracious pardon. After being freed, he fashioned an image based on the form he had seen, and also erected a vihāra. Later, he died in office in Lingling and Hengyang.
17.16
Pan Daoxiu of the Jin was a native of Wu Commandery. When he was in his twenties, he was captured during military turmoil and sent north to garrison. Soon, the army suffered a slight reverse, and Xiu fled but was seized again. Passing through several places as a slave and captive in foreign territory, he had no means of returning home. Having had faith in the Buddha's Dharma since youth, he constantly and earnestly remembered Avalokiteśvara. Whenever he dreamed, he saw the image. Later, when he fled south, he was lost and did not know the way. In the deep mountains, he suddenly beheld the true form, just like a processional image. Thereupon he bowed; when his bowing was finished, it vanished without him realizing it. He then found the route home and returned to his native land. Thereafter, his vigor became even firmer, and he died when nearly sixty years of age.
17.17
Luan Xun of the Jin was a person of unknown origins. He had revered the Dharma from his youth and once served as the Magistrate of Fuping. Earlier, he followed General Zhenglu on an expedition and met with a slight reverse. The boat was caught in flames and nearly destroyed, and the rebels pressed close. He was right in the middle of the river, with waves startling to the eye. Xun was filled with dread and thought his life was at an end, yet he still recited and remembered Avalokiteśvara. Presently, he saw a person standing alone and upright in the river, waist-deep in the water. Xun knew in his heart that his prayers had met with response. With the fire and rebels closing in, he plunged into the water to reach him. His body floated up, and his feet felt as if walking on dry ground. Soon after, the main army sent boats to rescue the routed troops, and he thus managed to be saved.
17.18
The monk Shi Fazhi of the Jin, while still a layperson, was once walking alone in a great marsh when suddenly fierce flames arose on all sides. His escape route was cut off, so he bowed and recited the name of Avalokiteśvara with utmost devotion. In an instant, the fire passed by; in the entire marsh, not a stalk of grass was left unburned, yet the space where Fazhi stood was untouched by fire. From then on, he began to revere and uphold the Great Dharma. Later, as an officer under Yao Xing, he followed the expedition against the Suolu barbarians. When the army retreated, he lost his horse and fell into encirclement. He hid in a briar patch beside a ditch, which just covered his head. Once again, he remembered Avalokiteśvara with utmost diligence. Across the ditch, a person shouted from afar to the rearguard, ordering them to kill him, but though the troops searched and probed, none could see him. He went straight on and was saved. Later, he went forth from household life.
17.19
Nangong Zi'ao of the Jin was a native of Shiping. While garrisoning Xinping city, it was breached by the Duke of Changle, a barbarian of the Qifu. Several thousand people in the entire city were put to death. Though Zi'ao was certain he would die, he still remembered Avalokiteśvara with utmost devotion. When his turn came, blades came down from above and below, but the executioners suddenly became weak and their limbs would not obey them. At that time, the Duke of Changle personally oversaw the execution and asked him in astonishment. Zi'ao casually answered, "I can make saddles." He was therefore pardoned and released. Zi'ao himself did not know why he had said those words. Later, he managed to escape. He fashioned a small image, stored it in a scented box, and carried it upon his head wherever he went.
17.20
The monk Shi Daotai of the Jin was a monk at Hengtang Vihāra in Changshan. During the Yixi era of the Jin, he once dreamed of a person who told him: "Your lifespan will end at six times seven." When Tai reached the age of forty-two, he contracted a severe illness. Anticipating that he would not survive, he gave all his robes and bowl as generous offerings to create merit. He also devoted his sincere mind to calling upon and reciting Avalokiteśvara, day and night for four days, his diligence never wavering. A curtain hung before the couch on which he sat. Suddenly, under the curtain, he saw a person stepping across the threshold to enter; the soles of the feet were golden in color, and their radiance illuminated the room. Tai lifted the curtain to look quickly, but the figure suddenly vanished. Fear and joy surged together; he broke into a profuse sweat, immediately felt his body lightened, and his ailment was cured.
17.21
Sun Daode of the Jin was a native of Yizhou and a Libationer of the Daoist tradition. Past the age of fifty, he had no sons. He lived near a vihāra. During the Jingping era, a monk told Daode: "If you truly wish for a son, you must worship and recite the *Avalokiteśvara Sūtra* with utmost sincerity; this may be granted." Daode then abandoned his service to Daoism and devoted his single-minded sincerity to taking refuge in Avalokiteśvara. Within a few days, he had a dream response; his wife conceived and subsequently gave birth to a boy.
17.22
Liu Du of the Jin was a native of Liaocheng in Pingyuan. In his home village, there were over a thousand households, all of which revered the Great Dharma, erected images, and made offerings to monks and nuns. During the time of the barbarian ruler Muwei, a fugitive had once escaped from this county. Wei was enraged and intended to annihilate the entire city. The masses were terrified, certain that they would all be destroyed. Du purified his sincerity and led the multitude to take refuge in Avalokiteśvara. Shortly thereafter, Wei saw an object descend from the sky and circle the pillar of the building where he was staying. Startled, he looked at it, and it was the *Avalokiteśvara Sūtra*. He had someone read it aloud, and Wei was greatly delighted, deciding to reduce the punishments and killings. Thus, the city was spared from harm.
17.23
Dou Chuan of the Jin was a man of Henei. During the Yonghe era, Gao Chang, the inspector of Bingzhou, and Lü Hu, the inspector of Jizhou, each commanded their own troops and were at odds with each other. Chuan was employed by Chang as a palace warden. Hu dispatched cavalry on a raiding attack, and [Chuan] was taken captive by them. Together with six or seven companions he was bound in a single prison. The fetters and shackles were exceedingly secure, and a date was set when they were to be put to death. The śramaṇa Zhi Daoshan was in Hu's encampment at the time; having been acquainted with Chuan beforehand, upon hearing of his capture and plight he came out to the prison site to visit him. Talking together through the door, Chuan said to Shan: 'Today in this dire straits, my life is measured in drops of the water clock. By what means can you save me?' Shan said: 'If you can take refuge and pray with a utmost mind, there will surely be a sympathetic resonance.' Chuan had also previously heard a good deal about Avalokiteśvara, and upon receiving Shan's words, he dedicated his mind to concentrating his thoughts [on the Bodhisattva]. For three days and nights he took refuge of himself with utmost sincerity. Observing his fetters and shackles, they seemed to loosen and relax unlike usual. Trying playfully to push and shake them, they slipped right off his body! Chuan then again said with an utmost mind: 'Receiving compassionate protection, my fetters have already loosened of themselves. Yet my companions are still many, and I have no heart to leave alone. May the divine power of Avalokiteśvara universally deliver us and cause all to be spared together.' Having finished speaking, he pulled and tugged at the others, and all of them were loosed and fell away in turn, as if someone had cut them free. Thereupon they opened the door and walked out amid the watchmen and sentries, without anyone noticing. They then scaled the wall and made straight off. By then the night was approaching dawn, and having gone four or five li, as day broke they did not dare advance further, and fled together to hide in a thicket. Shortly after, the loss of the prisoners was discovered; men and horses issued forth in all directions in relays to hunt and capture them. Burning the grass and trampling the woods, there was nowhere they did not reach, except the single mu of land where Chuan was hidden, where no one ever came. They were thus able to escape and return to their home village. His reverence and faith were extraordinary, and he became a fine practitioner of the Dharma. Daoshan later crossed the Yangtze River and related this matter in full for the retired scholar Xie Fu. (The fourteen verifications above are taken from the Mingxiang ji.)
17.24
At Xianyi Temple in Shanyin during the Jin dynasty, there was Zhu Fachun, though it is unknown what sort of person he was. In his youth he went forth and resided at Xianyi Temple in Shanyin, practicing austerities with virtue, and was skilled at reciting the ancient Vimalakīrti-sūtra. During the Yuanxing era of the Jin, he went up to Lanzhu on behalf of the temple to purchase an old building. Returning across the lake at dusk, he encountered a windstorm, and his boat was small and about to sink. Chun relied solely with a single mind on Avalokiteśvara, reciting without ceasing. Presently he saw a large drifting boat, boarded it, and was saved. Reaching the shore, he inquired after the boat, but it had no owner, and in a moment it was seen no more. Monastics and laity all marvelled at this divine response. Later, his end was unknown. (The one verification above is taken from the Liang Gaoseng zhuan.)
17.25
Zhang Xing of the Song was a man of Xinxing who had considerable faith in the Buddha's Dharma. He had once received the eight precepts from the śramaṇas Sengrong and Tanyi. Xing was once implicated by bandits; the husband managed to flee and escape, but the wife was imprisoned for his crime, flogged and beaten for days on end. At that time, a fire broke out in the county, and the prisoners were brought out to the roadside. It happened that Rong and Yi were travelling together and passed beside the prisoner. The wife called out in alarm: 'Ācārya, how can you grant me rescue?' Rong said: 'A poor monk's power is weak; how can I rescue you? You should only diligently mindfulness Avalokiteśvara, and you may perhaps obtain deliverance.' The wife then prayed and was mindful day and night. After some ten days, she dreamed at night of a śramaṇa stepping on her with his foot, saying: 'Hey, get up!' The wife was startled awake, and her manacles, chains, and fetters slipped right off, completely undone. She ran toward the door, but the door was still closed at the time, and the guards were exceedingly strict. Having no way to get out, and fearing someone might notice, she put the shackles back on. Shortly after, she fell asleep again and dreamed of the same śramaṇa saying to her: 'The door is already open.' The wife awoke and dashed out; the guards were all sound asleep. The wife walked away calmly. The night was very dark, and after walking about several li, she suddenly ran into a person. Terrified, the wife collapsed to the ground. When they questioned each other, it was none other than her husband! They wept with joy at reuniting. That night they sought shelter with Sengyi, who hid and concealed them, and so they were able to escape. This was at the beginning of the Yuanjia era.
17.26
I, Yan of the Song, was in Jiaozhi during my childhood. In that land was a Master of the Dharma named Xian, a monk of virtue and conduct, who conferred the five precepts upon me and presented me with a golden image of Avalokiteśvara for worship. Its form and make were different from modern ones, nor did it resemble the very ancient sort; it had been cast and engraved during the Yuanjia era with extraordinary craftsmanship, having an appearance of genuine beauty. I took it with me and returned to the capital; at that time I was still a boy losing my milk teeth, and together with my two younger brothers, I was constantly devoted and dedicated without wearying. Later, when repairing and renovating our dilapidated cottage, there was no room to house it, so I deposited it in Nanjian Temple in the capital. At that time, the common people were competing to cast coins, and there were also those who stole and melted down golden images to supply the minting. The image had been at the temple for several months when I took a midday nap and dreamed of seeing it standing at the corner of my seat, which I thought very strange. The sun was already setting, so I immediately galloped off to welcome it back. That night, over ten images in Nanjian Temple were all stolen and lost. Long after that, at dusk the image emitted light, illuminating about three feet of ground; its golden radiance surged forth, brilliant and dazzling to the eye. My brothers and our servants—more than ten people in all—witnessed it together. At that time I was young and did not immediately make a written record; by the time I came to compile this account, I had forgotten the date. It was in the autumn of the seventh year of the Daming era of the Song. By the end of the Taishi era, I moved to Wuyi, and an acquaintance monk temporarily lodged this image at Daobao Temple. I briefly travelled to Jiangdu at that time, while this monk went on to Jingchu, and I did not know where the image was. Nearly ten years passed, and I always feared that the divine treasure had parted from me along with our karmic connection. Toward the end of the Shengming era of the Song, as I travelled and was delayed beyond the Gorges, passing directly through Jiangling, I met this śramaṇa and finally learned the image's whereabouts. That year I returned to the capital and went immediately to Daobao Temple to seek it out. The temple abbot, Master Ai, said: 'There is no such deposited image here.' I withdrew, fearing that this monk had been reckless and that the image would be lost forever, feeling deeply despondent. That night, I dreamed of a person telling me: 'The image is at Daobao Temple; Master Ai has simply forgotten it. I shall find it for you.' I saw him lead me to the temple, open the hall with his own hands, and see the image on the east side of the hall among numerous small images, distinctly and clearly recognizable. At dawn I went to the temple, told Master Ai in full about what I had dreamed, and requested [him to search]. Master Ai then opened the hall for me, and indeed found this image on the east side of the hall, just as seen in the dream. I thus got the image back. It was on the thirteenth day of the seventh month in the first year of the Jianyuan era. The image is now regularly worshipped by me, hoping that it will forever serve as a ferry and bridge. When I restored this matter, I was deeply moved in my heart, and tracing these verifications, I composed this record. Truly, nothing touches human sentiment more closely than holy images; the occurrences of auspicious verifications mostly arise from this. A scripture states: 'Those who cast, carve, paint, and depict resembling forms are thereby able to move and emit light.' Today, the two images of Śākya and Maitreya in the Western Regions manifest radiant efficacy as if miraculous—is it not because they have attained the true likeness? Now in the Huaxia lands, standard representations repeatedly show divine responses; perhaps also the living beings of those years, moved by their karmic conjunctions, availed themselves of wood and stone to manifest the subtle and mysterious, without it having to depend strictly on physical likeness to be so. Thus, sinking stones floating on the deep opened the conversion of Min and Wu; dusted gold liquefying relieved the calamity of Peng and Song. As for the rest of the numerous instructions across diverse regions, though difficult to discuss in detail, in general the great sages have faithfully won allegiance. As for scriptures and stūpas manifesting efficacy, their doctrinal import is also the same; the matter does not follow a different thread, so I append it to the end. (The two verifications above are taken from the Mingxiang ji.)
17.27
Shi Daotai of the Hengtang Hermitage in Changshan under the Wei was a man of the late Northern Wei. He dreamed that someone said to him: 'When you reach such-and-such a year, you will die at the age of forty-two.' When he woke, Tai was frightened by it. When he reached that year, he fell ill and was extremely worried, giving away all his personal assets to cultivate merit. A friend said: 'I have heard that making offerings to sixty-two koṭis of bodhisattvas yields merit equal and no different to a single invocation of Avalokiteśvara. Why do you not take refuge with an utmost mind? You can surely prolong your lifespan.' Tai was thereby awakened and moved; thereupon, for four days and four nights, he concentrated his mind without interruption. Under the curtain where he sat, he suddenly saw a bright light enter from outside the door, and saw Avalokiteśvara's instep and ankles shining brilliantly with a golden colour, saying to Tai: 'Are you being mindful of Avalokiteśvara?' By the time Tai lifted the curtain, it was seen no more. Weeping with joy and sweating all over, he immediately felt his body become light and his ailments all cured. Through the grace of the holy power, his life was ultimately prolonged.
17.28
During the Tianping era of the Northern Wei, Sun Jingde, a recruit of Dingzhou, made an image of Avalokiteśvara and worshipped it with personal reverence. Later he was implicated by bandits; unable to bear the torture, he falsely confessed to a capital crime and was about to be beheaded. He dreamed of a śramaṇa who instructed him to recite the Life-Saving Avalokiteśvara Sūtra a thousand times to gain release. The officers bound him and led him to the marketplace; he recited as he walked. Reaching the execution ground, he completed the thousandth recitation. When the sword struck, it broke of itself into three pieces, leaving his skin and flesh unharmed. Three times they changed the sword, and each time it broke as before. Looking at the image of the Bodhisattva, it had three blade marks on its neck. This was reported to the throne in a memorial; the Prime Minister Gao Huan submitted a memorial requesting his pardon from death, and an imperial decree ordered the scripture to be copied and widely distributed throughout the world. It is now called the King Gao Avalokiteśvara Sūtra. From the Jin, Song, Liang, Chen, Qin, and Zhao states, divided into sixteen kingdoms and spanning four hundred years, those who invoked the names and recited the scriptures of Avalokiteśvara, Kṣitigarbha, Maitreya, and Amitābha and obtained deliverance are beyond count; all are detailed in the various biographies and records, and therefore are not recorded in full here.
17.29
At the end of the Wei, Shi Fali of Lu Commandery—it is unknown what sort of person he was—was pure, austere, and determined, diligently building stūpas and temples. Wishing to establish a hermitage in Lu Commandery but lacking timber, he went with the śrāmaṇera Mingchen to Shanggu to solicit hemp. Having loaded a cart and about to return, while travelling through a deserted marsh they suddenly met with a wildfire. The cart was downwind, and it seemed they could not escape. Fali was asleep from exhaustion; by the time he awoke, the fire was already upon them. He raised his voice and called out 'Guanshi—', before he even had time to utter 'yin'. In response to his voice, the wind shifted and the flames immediately died out, allowing them to return safely to the temple. Furthermore, the śramaṇa Fazhi was originally a layman; walking alone in a great marsh, fierce fires closed in from all four sides simultaneously. Knowing he would surely die, he put his face to the ground and exclusively called upon Avalokiteśvara. Marvelling that he was not burned, he raised his head to look: the grass of the entire marsh was reduced to ashes, leaving only the patch where Zhi lay, just enough to hold his body. Through this he was moved to awakening, renounced the world, and went forth. Moreover, the śramaṇa Daoji was walking in the western mountains of Shouyang when he was captured by two bandits, who bound him to a tree and were about to kill him. He only remained mindful of Avalokiteśvara, clinging to death without ceasing. They drew their swords and struck repeatedly, but none caused any wound; terrified, the bandits fled, and Ji thus obtained release. Also, the śramaṇa Fazhan encountered bandits while travelling in the mountains, who were on the verge of killing him. He was only mindful of Avalokiteśvara. They drew their bows to shoot him, but could not release the arrows. The bandits then submitted with sincerity and threw their bows to the ground, realizing he was a divine person, and fled in terror. (The three verifications above are taken from the Tang Gaoseng zhuan.) The verse says:
17.30
The Śākya transformative sage, the Benevolent One,
Observed the capacity of beings and descended from heaven.
Exalted above all the holy ones,
He was truly the foremost of sovereigns.
Nurturing all in harmony and peace,
He cleansed his pure essence in the profound abyss.
With compassionate instruction to sentient beings,
He skillfully guided them to the central mystery.
His grace extended the torch of wisdom,
Illuminating our nocturnal journey.
Transforming in accord with capacities,
Who could know his lifespan?
Looking up to him, he rises like the dawn clouds;
Approaching him, he is a ferry in the mist.
Taking pity with his physical form,
Grieving with his spirit.
Once the three vehicles had been widely propagated,
He relinquished his body in the Twin Trees.
Provisionally proclaiming nirvāṇa,
The true Dharma is ever real.
17.31
Chapter Seven: Reverence for the Dharma (containing six sections)
17.32
Section on Expressing the Intent
Section on Listening to the Dharma
Section on Seeking the Dharma
Section on Eliciting Blessings
Section on Dharma Masters
Section on Sins of Slander
17.33
It is heard that quiescent extinction is unmoving, and is thus without form and without words; yet when stimulated, it immediately penetrates, and therefore there are names and teachings. For this reason, a single four-line verse is hard to hear, while the fire of the three-thousandfold world is easy to enter. May it be that in the freezing cold of a quiet night, under the bright moon of a long eve, dwelling alone in an empty and tranquil retreat, one intones the scriptures, producing the notes of gong and shang. With clear characters and fluent, delightful phrasing, the words and rhymes harmonize together to gladden the minds of all. Benefiting living beings and cultivating good, it is sufficient to make the unseen spirits rejoice and the vital energies delight. Practicing long until thoroughly proficient, the text and meaning are profoundly understood; reciting earnestly with a reverent mind, utmost sincerity elicits unseen resonance. Truly we know that upholding a single verse brings vast and deep blessings, and copying a single word produces merit surpassing many kalpas. Therefore, Kāśyapa received it upon his crown without begrudging flaying his skin; and Sadāprarudita, with joyful heart, did not refuse to sprinkle his blood. This is the initial gateway to the sweet dew [of the Dharma], and the ultimate virtue in entering the Way.
17.34
Section Two: Listening to the Dharma
17.35
As the Scripture on the Transmission of the Dharmapiṭaka states: The Buddha said, “If all sentient beings wish to escape from the great ocean of birth and death within the tridhātu, they must rely on the raft of the Dharma before they can attain liberation. The Dharma serves as cool refreshment that eliminates the fever of afflictions; the Dharma is a wondrous medicine that can cure the sickness of fetters; the Dharma is a true spiritual friend to sentient beings, bringing great benefit and rescuing them from all suffering and distress. Why is this? The nature and inclinations of all sentient beings are indeterminate; they conform to what they become habituated to. When close to the good, they become good; when close to evil, they become evil. If they draw near to bad companions, they then commit evil karma and wander in birth and death without limit. If they draw near to good companions, they arouse faith and reverence; hearing and accepting the wondrous Dharma, they will surely be made to leave behind the suffering and distress of the three evil destinies, and through these merits they will enjoy the supreme bliss. The king of the country of Pāṭaliputra had a white elephant capable of destroying his enemies. Whenever a person committed a crime, he would have the elephant trample them to death. Later, when the elephant stable was burned by fire, they moved the elephant near a monastery. The elephant heard a monk reciting verses from the Dharmapada: ‘Doing good brings rebirth in heaven; doing evil leads into the abyss.’ Having heard the Dharma, the elephant’s mind became gentle and mild, and aroused compassion. Afterwards, when criminals were given to it, it merely sniffed them with its trunk, licked them with its tongue, and walked away, utterly refusing to kill them. When the king saw this, he was greatly alarmed and terrified. He immediately summoned all his ministers to deliberate on the matter. A wise minister addressed the king: ‘This elephant was near the monastery and surely heard the wondrous Dharma; that is why this has happened. Now it may be moved and tied near a slaughterhouse.’ The king followed his words. When the elephant saw the slaughtering, its evil mind flared up fiercely, and its cruelty increased even more. From this one should know that the nature and inclinations of all sentient beings are indeterminate. Even animals are like this: hearing the Dharma they produce compassion, while seeing killing they increase in harm. How much more so for human beings—how could they not be influenced by habituation? Therefore the wise should realize this: seeing evil, they must abandon it; seeing good, they should draw near to it, and diligently listen to the scriptures and the Dharma. Furthermore, in the past there was a brahmin who carried a great number of human skulls, going to the city of Pāṭaliputra to peddle them everywhere. After a long time, there was not a single buyer. At that time, the brahmin became extremely angry and shouted abuse, saying: ‘The people in this city are foolish and dull-witted! If you do not buy skulls from me, I shall ruin your reputation!’ At that time, the upāsakas in the city, hearing this and fearing slander, brought money to buy them. They then inserted a copper chopstick through their ears. If it passed completely through, they gave a high price; if it passed halfway through, they gave a lower price; and if it did not pass through at all, they gave no price whatsoever. The brahmin said: ‘These skulls of mine are all no different. Why is there an unequal difference in the prices you give?’ The upāsakas said: ‘For those that passed completely through, when this person was alive, he heard and accepted the wondrous Dharma, and his wisdom was lofty and superior. We value this feature and therefore give a high price. For those that passed halfway through, although he heard the scriptures and the Dharma, he did not distinguish them well; therefore we give a lower price. For those that did not pass through at all, in the past this person never listened to the Dharma at all; therefore we give no price.’ The upāsakas then took these skulls, went outside the city, erected stūpas, and made offerings to them. After their lives ended, they all attained rebirth in heaven. From this circumstance, one should know that the wondrous Dharma has great merit. Since these upāsakas, by merely erecting stūpas and making offerings to the skulls of people who had heard the Dharma, could still attain rebirth in heaven, how much more so for those who can sincerely hear and accept the scriptures and the Dharma, and make offerings to and revere those who uphold the scriptures? The karmic reward of this is truly difficult to exhaust; in the future they will surely achieve the unsurpassed way. Therefore the wise, wishing to attain unsurpassed peace and happiness, should diligently listen to the scriptures and the Dharma with sincere minds.”
17.36
The Scripture of the Wise and the Foolish states: In the past, when the Buddha was in the world, the elder Sudatta in the country of Śrāvastī faithfully revered the Buddha's Dharma and was a dānapati to the saṃgha, providing whatever the assembly of monks needed. Within Sudatta's household there were two parrots, one named Riti and the other named Śariti. By nature they were clever and intelligent, and understood human speech. Seeing a monk arrive, they would first inform the household so they would come out to welcome him. Later, Ānanda came to the elder's house. Seeing that the birds were intelligent, he expounded to them the four noble truths: suffering, its arising, its cessation, and the path. In front of the gate there was a tree. Having heard the Dharma, the two birds flew up into the tree and joyfully recited and upheld it. At night, while roosting in the tree, they were eaten by a wild cat. By virtue of this good root, they were reborn among the Four Heavenly Kings. Having exhausted their lifespan in that heaven, they were reborn in the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven. When their life in Trāyastriṃśa ended, they were reborn in the Yāma Heaven. When their life in Yāma ended, they were reborn in the Tuṣita Heaven. When their life in Tuṣita ended, they were reborn in the Nirmāṇarati Heaven. When their life in Nirmāṇarati ended, they were reborn in the sixth heaven, the Paranirmitavaśavartin Heaven. When their life in Paranirmitavaśavartin ended, they were reborn back in the Nirmāṇarati Heaven. Descending sequentially in this manner, they returned down to the heaven of the Four Heavenly Kings. When their life in the Four Heavenly Kings ended, they returned up to the Paranirmitavaśavartin Heaven. Going up and down in this manner, they passed through seven cycles of rebirth in the six desire heavens, freely enjoying pleasures, living out the full heavenly lifespans without dying prematurely. Later, when their lives ended, they were born among humans, left the household life to cultivate the way, and attained pratyekabuddhahood. One was named Dharma and the other was named Sudharma.
17.37
The Scripture of the Wise and the Foolish states: In the past, when the Buddha was in the world, there was a monk who recited scriptures in a forest with an elegant and fine voice. At that time, a bird, hearing the Dharma, revered and loved it, and listened from a tree. Then it was shot by a hunter and died. By virtue of this good root, it was reborn in the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven with a handsome countenance and radiant marks that were bright and peerless. Knowing its past lives, it recognized that it had attained rebirth there because of hearing the Dharma as the monk recited scriptures. It immediately took heavenly flowers, went to where the monk was, paid homage, made inquiries, and made offerings of heavenly incense and flowers to the monk. The monk questioned it thoroughly and learned the details of the matter. He then bade it sit and preached the Dharma for it, and it attained the fruit of a srotāpanna. Having attained the fruit, it returned to heaven. If even birds listening to the Dharma reap boundless rewards, how much more so when human beings listen to the Dharma with faithful minds—how could there not be a good reward?
17.38
The Samantapāsādikā states: In the past, when the Buddha was in the world, he went to the edge of the Kāla Pond in the country of Campā to expound the Dharma for the assembly. At that time, there was a frog in that pond. Hearing the sound of the Buddha expounding the Dharma beside the pond, it came out of the pond and went beneath the roots of grass to listen to the Buddha expounding the Dharma. At that time, a man holding a staff was herding cattle. Seeing the Buddha seated expounding the Dharma for the assembly, he went to the Buddha's place wishing to hear the Dharma. Poking the ground with his staff, he mistakenly struck the frog's head. It immediately died and was reborn in the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven. Due to its karmic reward, its palace was twelve yojanas in extent, and it enjoyed pleasures in the company of heavenly maidens. Riding its palace, it immediately went to where the Buddha was and bowed its head to his feet. The Buddha, knowing full well, asked: “Who are you, that you suddenly bow to my feet? Your supernatural powers, brilliance, and physical marks are peerless, illuminating this entire place.” The frog-deva replied in verse:
17.39
“Formerly I had the body of a frog,
Searching for food in the water.
Hearing the sound of the Buddha preaching the Dharma,
I came out beneath the grass roots.
A cowherd,
Holding a staff, came to listen to the Dharma;
The staff pierced my head,
And at the end of my life I was born in heaven.”
17.40
Using the verses spoken by the frog-deva, the Buddha expounded the Dharma for the fourfold assembly. At that time, eighty-four thousand people in the assembly all attained the trace of the way. The frog-deva attained the fruit of a srotāpanna, joined his palms, and departed.
17.41
Section 3: Seeking the Dharma
17.42
As the Saṃyuktaratnapiṭaka-sūtra states: In the past, there was a woman who was clever and wise, and had deep faith in the Three Jewels. In the regular monastic rota, she would constantly invite two monks to her house to receive offerings. Later, an elderly monk happened to arrive at her house in his turn. Advanced in years and dull in faculties, he was ordinarily devoid of knowledge. When the midday meal was finished, the woman sincerely requested him to preach the Dharma, spreading a seat before him and sitting quietly with closed eyes. The monk, knowing himself that he did not understand how to preach the Dharma, took advantage of her closed eyes to flee back to the monastery. However, this woman sincerely contemplated that conditioned dharmas are impermanent, suffering, empty, and devoid of autonomy. Observing this deeply in her mind, she immediately attained the fruit of a srotāpanna. Having attained the fruit, she went toward the monastery to seek him out, wishing to repay his kindness. But this monk, judging himself to be ignorant and ashamed of having abandoned her and fled, felt doubled shame and hid away even further. Yet this woman sought him earnestly without ceasing, until he finally showed himself. Seeing him, the woman related in full the circumstances of her attaining the fruit of the way, and presented offerings to repay his kindness. Hearing this, the elderly monk felt great shame, rebuked himself deeply, and also attained the fruit of a srotāpanna. Therefore, practitioners should seek the Dharma with sincere and dedicated minds; if one is sincere, what one seeks will surely be attained.
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Linked texts (1)
- 法苑珠林 — 道世, Classical Chinese