法苑珠林 22

English (machine translation) 22

Language: English

22.1

Compiled by the śramaṇa Shi Daoshi of Ximing Temple

22.2

Chapter 13: Entering the Way (comprising four sections)

22.3

Section on Expressing the Intent
Section on Joy and Revulsion
Section on Shaving the Hair
Section on Citing Evidences

Indeed, the appearances of the monastic and the lay diverge, and pure and defiled follow different destinies; this is because good and bad are unequal, and retribution is not uniform. If one wishes to observe the manner of benevolence, righteousness, and flourishing virtue, one should seek the standards of etiquette and mysterious principles. Yet to be able to sever attachments and take leave of kin, abandon glory, power, and rank; to moderate food, savor a diet of coarse greens, and practice austerities; to cover the body in rough robes without regard for ornaments or amusements; to dwell at ease with whatever is at hand, harboring no thought of fame or gain; to curb the three poisons and suppress the eight worldly sounds; to maintain the three thousand majestic deportments and the five hundred precepts, acting and staying still with propriety, all according to model and rule; and to expound the eighty thousand sūtras and the twelve divisions according with individuals' capacities, benefiting beings as the occasion demands—such a person may truly be called a paragon for humans and devas, and a ferryboat for entering the Way.

22.6

2. Section on Joy and Revulsion

22.7

As stated in the Sūtra of Mañjuśrī's Questions, the Buddha told Mañjuśrī: "All merits do not equal the mind of leaving the household life. Why is this? Because living in the household entails boundless faults and afflictions, while leaving the household life entails boundless merits. Living in the household has obstacles; leaving the household life is free of obstacles. Those who live in the household practice all evil dharmas; those who leave the household life abandon all evil dharmas. Living in the household is a place of dust and defilement; leaving the household life is where dust and defilement are eradicated. Those who live in the household drown in the mire of desire; those who leave the household life emerge from the mire of desire. Those who live in the household follow the ways of foolish persons; those who leave the household life distance themselves from the ways of foolish persons. Those who live in the household do not attain right livelihood; those who leave the household life attain their right livelihood. Living in the household is a place of sorrow, grief, and affliction; leaving the household life is a place of joy. Living in the household is a place of bondage; leaving the household life is a place of liberation. Living in the household is a place of harm; leaving the household life is not a place of harm. Those who live in the household harbor greed for profit and pleasure; those who leave the household life harbor no greed for profit and pleasure. Living in the household is a place of clamor and tumult; leaving the household life is a place of tranquility. Living in the household is a low and wretched station; leaving the household life is a lofty and supreme station. Those who live in the household are burned by defilements; those who leave the household life extinguish the fire of defilements. Those who live in the household constantly act for others; those who leave the household life constantly act for their own true self. Those who live in the household take suffering as pleasure; those who leave the household life take renunciation as pleasure. Those who live in the household multiply thorns and briars; those who leave the household life are able to eradicate thorns and briars. Those who live in the household accomplish petty dharmas; those who leave the household life accomplish great dharmas. Those who live in the household lack the function of the Dharma; those who leave the household life possess the function of the Dharma. Those who live in the household are disparaged by the three vehicles; those who leave the household life are praised by the three vehicles. Those who live in the household know no contentment; those who leave the household life are constantly content. Those who live in the household are cherished by the Demon King; those who leave the household life cause the demons to be terrified. Those who live in the household are often heedless; those who leave the household life are free of heedlessness. Those who live in the household are servants to others; those who leave the household life are masters of servants. Living in the household is a place of darkness; leaving the household life is a place of radiance. Living in the household increases arrogance; leaving the household life is the place where arrogance is eliminated. Those who live in the household reap meager retributions; those who leave the household life reap abundant retributions. Those who live in the household are often deceitful and crooked; those who leave the household life have an upright and straightforward mind. Those who live in the household constantly harbor anxiety and suffering; those who leave the household life constantly cherish joy and bliss. Living in the household is a deceptive dharma; leaving the household life is a true and real dharma. Those who live in the household have much distraction; those who leave the household life have no distraction. Living in the household is a place of transmigration; leaving the household life is not a place of transmigration. Living in the household is like poison; leaving the household life is like nectar. Those who live in the household lose internal contemplation; those who leave the household life attain internal contemplation. Those who live in the household have no place of refuge; those who leave the household life have a place of refuge. Those who live in the household have much anger; those who leave the household life practice much loving-kindness and compassion. Those who live in the household carry a heavy burden; those who leave the household life lay down the heavy burden. Those who live in the household have transgressions; those who leave the household life are free of transgressions. Those who live in the household transmigrate in birth and death; those who leave the household life reach an end to it. Those who live in the household regard material wealth as a treasure; those who leave the household life regard merit as a treasure. Those who live in the household drift along with the flow of birth and death; those who leave the household life swim against the flow of birth and death. Living in the household is an ocean of defilement; leaving the household life is a great ferryboat. Those who live in the household are bound by fetters; those who leave the household life are freed from fetters. Those who live in the household are disciplined by kings; those who leave the household life are disciplined by the Buddha's Dharma. For those who live in the household, companions are easy to find; for those who leave the household life, companions are difficult to find. For those who live in the household, inflicting harm is valued; for those who leave the household life, gathering and protecting others is valued. Those who live in the household increase defilement; those who leave the household life escape defilement. Living in the household is like a forest of thorns; leaving the household life is emerging from a forest of thorns. Mañjuśrī, even if I were to disparage living in the household and praise leaving the household life until my words filled space, I would still never exhaust them." Such are the faults of living in the household and the merits of leaving the household life.

22.8

Furthermore, the Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "Living in the household is cramped and stifling, like being in a prison; all afflictions arise from it. Leaving the household life is open and vast, like empty space; all wholesome dharmas increase through it. A person living in the household worries internally about wife and children, and is driven externally by the king's corvée. If rich, noble, and exalted, they become dissolute and indulge their desires; if poor, suffering, and lowly, they are starved, cold, and lose their resolve. Public and private affairs trouble them ceaselessly, day and night; entangled in numerous chores, what leisure do they have to cultivate the Way?"
Furthermore, the Sūtra of the Householder Ugra says: "Those who live in the household have many afflictions, bound by affectionate attachment to parents, wives, and children. They constantly crave wealth and sex without satiety; when obtaining them, guarding them brings much anxiety. Transmigrating through the six destinies, they go against and depart from the Buddha's Dharma. They should view [the household] as an enemy and a bad friend, should become revulsed by household life, and generate the resolve to leave the household. No one cultivates and gathers the path to unsurpassed bodhi while staying in the household; it is exclusively by leaving the household that the unsurpassed Way is attained. Living in the household is defiled; leaving the household life is exquisite and good. Living in the household is bondage; leaving the household life is liberation. Living in the household entails much suffering; leaving the household life is joy. Living in the household is base; leaving the household life is noble. Living in the household is being a servant; leaving the household life is being a master. Living in the household is being dependent on others; leaving the household life is being autonomous. Living in the household is full of anxiety; leaving the household life is free of anxiety. Living in the household is a heavy burden; leaving the household life is casting off the burden. Living in the household is bustling affairs; leaving the household life is leisurely and tranquil."
Furthermore, the Sūtra on the Merit of Leaving the Household Life says: "If one permits sons, daughters, servants, or ordinary folk to leave the household, the merit is boundless. For instance, making offerings for a hundred years to arhats filling the four continents does not equal the boundless merit of a person leaving the household and receiving the precepts for a single day and night for the sake of nirvāṇa. Moreover, raising a stupa made of the seven treasures reaching up to the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven does not equal the merit of leaving the household life."
Furthermore, the Dayuan jing says: "By leaving the household for a single day and night, one will not fall into the three evil destinies for twenty kalpas."
Furthermore, the Mahāsāṃghika Vinaya says: "One who leaves the household and cultivates brahmacarya for a single day and night is freed from six thousand, six hundred, and sixty years of suffering in the three paths."
Furthermore, the Sūtra on the Merit of Leaving the Household Life says: "If one creates hardships or obstacles to someone leaving the household, obstructing this person, they thereby sever the seed of Buddhahood. All evils gather upon their body like the great ocean; in this life they will contract leprosy, and upon death fall into the dark hell, with no time of release."
Furthermore, the Sūtra of Kāśyapa says: "At that time, when the crown prince of the great king heard that the merit of leaving the household life was profoundly deep, they all resolved to leave the household. Then, among the four continents, there was not a single sentient being who remained in the household; all gave rise to the resolve and wished to leave the household. Once those sentient beings had left the household, they had no need to sow and cultivate: the earth naturally produced nonglutinous rice, the trees naturally produced clothing, and all devas served and attended to them."
Furthermore, the Sūtra of the Buddha's Treasury says: "You should single-mindedly practice the Way, acting in accord with the Dharma, and not think about food and clothing. Should anything be needed, a single portion of the white curl between the eyebrows of the Tathāgata could provide for all disciples who leave the household life in the Final Age, and it still could not be exhausted."

22.9

Furthermore, the Sūtra of the Wise and the Foolish says: "Suppose among a hundred blind persons, there were a skilled physician who could heal their eyes so that they could see clearly all at once; and suppose there were another hundred persons whose crimes warranted having their eyes gouged out, and one person of strength could pardon their crimes so they would not lose their sight. Although the blessings of these two persons are boundless, they still do not equal the vast virtue of permitting someone to leave the household or leaving the household oneself."

22.10

3. Section on Shaving the Hair

22.11

When first wishing to leave the household, according to the Vinaya, one must first invite two masters: the first is the upādhyāya, and the second is the ācārya (all rituals are as in the Vinaya). The Sarvāstivāda-śāstra states: "If one first invites the upādhyāya when receiving the ten precepts, even if the upādhyāya is not physically present, one still obtains the ten precepts. If one hears of his death, one does not obtain the precepts; if one does not hear of his death, receiving the precepts succeeds. The same applies to the ācārya." Furthermore, the Sūtra on the Deliverance of People by Laymen says: "If one wishes to shave the hair, first at the place where the hair is to be cut, sprinkle the ground with scented water. Within a circumference of seven feet, hang banners at the four corners. Erect one high seat for the ordinand to sit upon, and further set up two superior seats for the two masters to sit upon. The ordinand wears their original lay clothes. Having bowed and bid farewell to their parents, elders, and relatives, they recite a verse aloud, saying:

22.12

"Transmigrating through the three realms,
I have been unable to escape affection and attachment.
Renouncing affection to enter the unconditioned—
This is truly repaying affection."

22.13

Having spoken this verse, they strip off the secular clothes. The Samantapāsādikā says: "One should bathe with scented water to remove the smell of the white-robed (laity)." The Sūtra of Deliverance says: "Although putting on the robes of renunciation, one is only permitted to wear the antarvāsas and the saṃkakṣikā; one is not yet permitted to wear the kāṣāya robe. When entering the bodhimanda, one should approach the front of the upādhyāya and kneel on the right knee. The upādhyāya should regard [the candidate] as a son, and must not harbor thoughts of malice or contempt. The disciple should regard the master as a father, respecting and making offerings to him. After the upādhyāya has expounded various teachings to admonish and encourage the candidate's mind, the candidate goes to sit before the ācārya." The Samantapāsādikā says: "Water scented with perfume is poured over the crown of the head while reciting a verse of praise, saying:

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"Excellent, O great hero!
You are able to comprehend the world's impermanence,
Abandoning the secular to advance toward nirvāṇa—
Rare and inconceivable!"

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Having recited this verse, [the ācārya] instructs them to bow to the Buddhas of the ten directions. Then they recite another verse of praise, saying:

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"I take refuge in the Great World-Honoured One,
Who can cross beyond the suffering of the three realms of existence;
I also vow that all sentient beings
May universally enter the bliss of the unconditioned."

22.17

Having recited this verse, only then does the ācārya shave their hair. The Sūtra of Deliverance says: "When shaving the hair, bystanders chant the hymn of leaving the household, saying:

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"Altering your appearance to maintain your resolve and integrity,
Severing affection with no personal attachments;
Abandoning the home to enter the noble path,
Vowing to deliver all people."

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When shaving the hair, five or three hairs are left on the crown of the head. The candidate approaches before the upādhyāya and kneels on the right knee. The upādhyāya asks, 'Do you permit me to remove this top hair for you now or not?' The candidate answers, 'Yes.' Then the upādhyāya puts the kāṣāya upon them. Just as it is being put on, according to the Samantapāsādikā, another verse of praise is recited, saying:

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"Great is the robe of liberation,
The formless robe of the field of merit!
Donning and upholding it in accord with the practice of the precepts,
May I broadly deliver all sentient beings."

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According to the Sūtra of Deliverance: "Having put on the kāṣāya, they pay homage to the Buddha and circumambulate. Monastics and laypeople follow behind, circumambulating three times. Then the ordinand recites a verse to express rejoicing and gratitude, saying:

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"How fortunate to encounter the Buddha!
What person would not rejoice?
My blessed vows meet with the right time;
I now obtain the benefits of the Dharma."

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Having finished circumambulating, they then bow to the assembly and to the two masters. Afterwards, sitting in the lower row, they receive bows from the six relations. Bearing the resolve to leave the household and depart from the secular, their mind is filled with joy. Parents and all kin pay homage to them, rejoicing in their aspiration for the Way. It is best to shave the hair before noon, so as to be in time for the midday meal. According to the Vinayamātṛkā-śāstra: 'After shaving the hair and donning the kāṣāya, the upādhyāya then confers the three refuges, the five precepts, and so forth.' (The remaining ritual procedures cannot be fully detailed; one should deliberate according to the circumstances so that generating wholesome merit is paramount.)

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4. Section on Citing Evidences

22.25

As the *Saṃyuktaratnapiṭaka-sūtra* states, in the past there was a woman who was extraordinarily beautiful and refined. She left home to practice the way within a non-Buddhist tradition. People of that time asked her, “With an appearance like this, you ought to remain in secular life. Why have you left home?” The woman answered, “It is not that I am not beautiful today, but from childhood I have loathed sensual desire. This is why I have now left home. When I was living as a householder, because of my beauty I was arranged in marriage early and bore a son at a young age. My son grew up to be incomparably handsome. Gradually he grew emaciated and weakened, appearing as if sick. I asked my son about the cause and nature of his illness, but he was unwilling to speak. Because I questioned him incessantly, having no other choice, the son told his mother, ‘If I do not speak, I fear my life will not be preserved; yet if I merely wish to describe it in full, it is utterly shameless.’ He then told his mother, ‘I desire to obtain you, Mother, for my private lust. It is because I cannot obtain [you] that I have fallen ill.’ His mother then said to him, ‘Since ancient times, how could there ever be such a thing?’ Yet she thought to herself, ‘If I do not comply, my son may die. Now I would rather violate moral principle to save my son's life.’ Thereupon she summoned her son, intending to comply with his desire. As the son was about to mount the bed, the earth suddenly split open, and my son sank into it in his living body. I was terrified, and pulling at my son with my hands, I caught hold of his hair. Even today my son's hair is still kept in my bosom. Deeply moved and pierced by this event, I therefore left home.”

22.26

Furthermore, the *Mahāprajñāpāramitā-śāstra* states that one who leaves home in the Buddha’s Dharma, even if they break the precepts and fall into sin, will attain liberation once their sin has ended. As explained in the *Utpalavarṇā-bhikṣuṇī-jātaka-sūtra*, when the Buddha was in the world, this nun attained the six supernatural faculties and realized the fruit of an arhat. Entering the households of nobles, she would always praise the practice of leaving home and say to the noblewomen, “Sisters, you may leave home.” The noblewomen said, “We are young, and our beauty is flourishing. Upholding the precepts is difficult; we might break them.” The nun said, “If you break the precepts, then let them be broken; just leave home.” They asked, “Breaking the precepts entails falling into hell; how could one break them?” She answered, “If you fall into hell, then let yourself fall.” The noblewomen laughed at her and said, “Suffering punishment in hell—how could one fall into that?” The nun said, “I recall that in a past life I was an actress. Wearing various costumes, I spoke frivolous words, and sometimes I put on a nun’s robe as a joke. Through this causal condition, in the era of Kāśyapa Buddha, I became a nun. Relying on my noble lineage and beauty, arrogance arose in my mind, and I broke the prohibitive precepts. Consequently, I fell into hell and suffered various punishments. When that punishment was ended, I encountered Śākyamuni Buddha, left home, and attained the path of an arhat. Thus, even if one breaks the precepts, one may still attain the fruit of the path.” Furthermore, once when the Buddha was at Jetavana, an intoxicated brahmin came to where the Buddha was and asked to become a monk. The Buddha instructed Ānanda to shave his head and dress him in the Dharma robes. Once the intoxication wore off, he was startled and terrified to find that he had suddenly become a monk, and immediately ran away. The monks asked the Buddha, “Why did you allow this drunk brahmin to become a monk?” The Buddha said, “For immeasurable kalpas, this brahmin had no intention of leaving home whatsoever. Now, due to drunkenness, he temporarily gave rise to a slight inclination. Because of this causal condition, he will later leave home and attain the path.” Through various causal conditions such as these, the benefits and merits of leaving home are limitless. For this reason, although a layperson may observe the five precepts, it does not equal the great merit of leaving home.

22.27

Furthermore, the *Saṃyuktaratnapiṭaka-sūtra* states that in the past, in the city of Roruka, there was King Udayana, who was intelligent, discerning, and possessed great wisdom. He had a chief consort named Lakṣaṇā, who was peerlessly beautiful and endowed with virtuous conduct; the king loved and respected her greatly. According to the customs of that country at the time, kings did not pluck the lute themselves. On one occasion, the consort was in a secluded chamber making merry with the king. Presuming upon the king's favor, she had the king play the lute while she arose to dance. When she first raised her hands, the king, who had long been skilled in physiognomy, observed that the marks of death had already appeared on the consort, and calculated that the remainder of her life would not exceed seven days. The king immediately put down the lute and sighed deeply with sorrow. The consort addressed the king, “Having received the king's gracious favor, I dared in this secluded chamber to ask the king to play the lute while I arose to dance for our pleasure. What was displeasing that you set aside the lute and sighed deeply? I pray that the king tell me.” The king was unwilling to answer, but she pleaded incessantly, so the king answered truthfully. Hearing this, the consort became exceedingly anxious and fearful. She immediately addressed the king, “I have heard that at the Rock Chamber there is a nun [who teaches that] if one can leave home with faithful mind for even a single day, one will certainly be born in heaven. I wish to leave home; I pray that the king permit it.” Because the king's love was deep, he told the consort, “When the sixth day arrives, I will let you go; I will not refuse your intention.” When the sixth day arrived, the king said to the consort, “You have a good intention to seek to leave home. If you are born in heaven, you must come see me; only then will I let you go.” When this vow was made, the consort assented. She was then able to leave home and receive the eight precepts and the fast. On that very day, she drank rock-sugar syrup and developed intestinal cramps. On the morning of the seventh day, she passed away. Borne by this good condition, she was born in heaven. Remembering her original vow, she came to the king's palace, her brilliant radiance illuminating the entire royal quarters. The king asked, “Who are you?” The heavenly being answered, “I am the king's wife, Consort Lakṣaṇā.” The king was delighted and said, “Please come and take a seat.” The heavenly being answered, “I now perceive that the king is foul and filthy, beyond approach; it is only because of my prior vow that I have come to see the king.” When the king heard this, his mind opened and his thoughts were enlightened. He sighed to himself, “That heavenly being was originally my wife. Leaving home for a single day, she was able to be born in heaven; her spiritual resolve is lofty and far-reaching, while she looks upon me as base and lowly. Why should I not leave home now? I have heard it said that a single heavenly fingernail is worth the entire land of Jambudvīpa. How could this single kingdom of mine be worthy of craving?” Having spoken these words, he abdicated the throne in favor of his son, left home to cultivate the path, and attained arhatship. Therefore, a verse in the *Mahāprajñāpāramitā-śāstra* says:

22.28

Though a peacock possesses colors that adorn its body, / it cannot fly far like the wild goose or crane;
Though a householder possesses the power of wealth and noble rank, / it is not like the deep merit of leaving home.

22.29

Furthermore, the *Saṃyukta-avadāna-sūtra* states: In the past there were two brothers who possessed great influence and wealth, with immeasurable property. When their parents passed away, they had no one to rely upon. Although they were brothers, their aspirations and thoughts were entirely different: the elder brother loved discussions of the Dharma, while the younger brother loved the family enterprise. Seeing that his elder brother did not attend to the household affairs, the younger brother constantly resented him, saying, “Being brothers whose parents died early, one should diligently think of making a living, yet you abandon the family enterprise to follow śramaṇas and listen to Buddhist scriptures. Can śramaṇas give you clothing, wealth, and treasures? The family grows increasingly poor and our property diminishes daily; people ridicule us for neglecting the household. Continuing the work of one’s parents is true filial piety.” The elder brother replied, “Observing the five precepts and ten virtuous deeds, making offerings to the Three Jewels, and transforming one’s parents through the Dharma—this is true filial piety. The sacred and the secular are naturally opposed. What the Way delights in, the world dislikes; what the world treasures, the Way disdains. The difference in deliberations between the wise and the foolish is like light and darkness. Therefore, the wise person leaves darkness behind and approaches light, attaining the truth through the Way. What you now delight in is a falsehood full of suffering and affliction; how could you fail to recognize its bitter misery?” Harboring anger, the younger brother shook his head in disbelief. Seeing this, the elder brother said to him, “You crave household affairs and value wealth; I love the scriptures and the Way, valuing wisdom as a treasure. Now I wish to abandon the household and take refuge in the field of merit. Considering that one’s life resides in this world as fleetingly as drifting dust, impermanence arrives abruptly and one becomes bound by sins. Therefore, I renounce the world, avoiding danger to attain safety.” Seeing his elder brother's resolve to pursue the principles of the Way, the younger brother remained silent and gave no reply. The elder brother then left home to become a śramaṇa. Striving vigorously day and night, practicing dhyāna and contemplation, his conduct conformed to the scriptural teachings, and he realized the fruits of the path. Hearing of this, the younger brother became even more enraged. The younger brother coveted the family enterprise and never practiced the Dharma. Later, when his life ended, he fell into rebirth as an ox, exceedingly plump and large. A merchant purchased him to transport and trade salt. After several round trips, the ox became exhausted and could no longer move forward. Collapsing in distress on an upward slope, he lay prostrate, unable to rise. The merchant beat him, but he could only shake his head slightly. At that time, the elder brother was traveling by flight through the sky. Seeing his younger brother from afar, he said to him, “Where are your fields and houses now, that you have cast yourself down to fall among the oxen and beasts?” He immediately used his supernatural power to illuminate and reveal [the ox's] former life. The ox recognized his past, and weeping tears, reproached himself: “Because of my evil conduct—stinginess, greed, and jealousy—not believing in the Buddha's Dharma, slighting the noble saṃgha, and defying my elder brother's words with stubborn self-will, I have fallen among oxen, exhausted, worn out, and miserable. How can remorse avail me now?” Knowing his thoughts, the elder brother was filled with grief and pity. He related the whole story to the owner of the ox. Hearing it, the merchant offered the ox as a gift. The brother then led the ox back to the monastery, causing him to be mindful of the Three Jewels and feeding him at regular times. When his life came to an end, he was born in the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven. At that time, all the merchants thought to themselves, “Engaged in business, we are unable to practice generosity and do not understand the principles of the Way; when we die, we fear the same will happen to us.” Thereupon they jointly renounced their homes, abandoned their wives and children, discarded their prized possessions, and became śramaṇas. Striving unremittingly, they all attained the path. Viewed from this perspective, worldly wealth and treasure bring no benefit to humanity; honoring the Three Jewels and cultivating one’s person to study the Way brings peace life after life.

22.30

Furthermore, the *Fu fazang jing* states: In the past, the venerable arhat Jeyata led his disciples toward the city of Takṣaśilā. Upon arriving at the city, he looked sorrowful and displeased. Advancing a little farther along the road, he saw a crow and smiled with delight. His disciples addressed the master, “We pray that you explain the reason for this.” The venerable one replied, “When I first arrived at the city, under the city gate I saw a child-ghost who said to me in desperate hunger: ‘My mother entered the city to seek food for me. Since parting from my mother, five hundred years have passed. Famished, weakened, and exhausted, my death is not far off. If the venerable one enters the city and sees my mother, tell her of my hardship, and please tell her to come quickly.’ As soon as I entered the city, I saw that mother and told her everything her son had said. The mother ghost replied to me, ‘Since I entered the city, five hundred years have passed, yet I have never been able to obtain even a single person’s spittle. Having recently given birth, my energy and strength are weak; even if I obtain a little spittle, other ghosts snatch it from me. Just now I encountered someone and happened to get a little spittle, which I wish to carry out of the city to share with my son. However, there are many mighty spirits beneath the gate, and out of fear I dare not exit. I only pray that the venerable one escort me out of the city.’ I then led her out, allowing them to share the food together. I then asked the ghost, ‘How long has it been since you were born?’ The ghost answered me, ‘I have seen this city form and disintegrate seven times.’ Hearing the ghost's words, I was saddened by the long duration of suffering in saṃsāra, and was therefore sorrowful. As for that crow: long ago, ninety-one kalpas in the past, a Buddha appeared in the world named Vipaśyin. At that time, I was the son of an elder and wished to leave home. Leaving home at that time guaranteed the attainment of arhatship. My parents would not permit it, and forcibly arranged a marriage for me. After obtaining a wife, I again sought to leave home. My parents said to me, ‘If you produce one son, we will let you go.’ I soon complied with their instruction, and later a boy was born. When he reached six years of age, I wished to leave once more. My parents taught the child to embrace my legs, weeping and crying, ‘If Father abandons me, who will look after and sustain me? You must kill your child first before you may leave!’ When I saw this, affectionate attachment arose, and I said to the child, ‘For your sake, I will not leave home after all.’ Because of that child, from that time onward for ninety-one kalpas I transmigrated through the five destinies, never having been able to see him. Now, viewing with the eye of the Way, I see that this crow was that former child. Pitying his ignorance and long stay in birth-and-death, I smiled. For this reason, if anyone hinders another from leaving home, the karmic retribution for this person is constant dwelling in the evil destinies, enduring extreme pain without liberation. When the retribution in the evil destinies is finished, if born among humans, they will be born blind, having no eyes. Therefore, the wise, upon seeing someone who wishes to leave home, should diligently use expedient means to encourage and assist them to succeed, and not create obstacles.”

22.31

Furthermore, the Sūtra on the Merits of Renunciation says: In the past, when the Buddha was in the world, the Buddha and Ānanda entered the city of Vaiśālī when the time came for begging food. There was a prince named Vairasena who, together with various palace maidens, was making merry on a high tower. The Buddha heard the sound of the music and said to Ānanda, 'I know that seven days from now this person must end his life. If he does not leave the household life, he will fall into hell.' Having heard this, Ānanda went at once to instruct and transform him, urging him to leave the household life. Hearing this exhortation, the prince indulged his desires to the utmost for six days. On the seventh day he besought the Buddha to let him leave the household life. For one day and one night he practiced and maintained the pure precepts, whereupon his life ended and he was born among the Four Heavenly Kings as the son of the northern Heavenly King Vaiśravaṇa, enjoying the pleasures of the five desires together with palace maidens for the full heavenly lifespan of five hundred years. Later he was born in Trāyastriṃśa as a son of Śakra, with a heavenly lifespan of one thousand years. Next he was born in Yāma, again as a prince, with a lifespan of two thousand years. Later he was born in Tuṣita, likewise as a prince, with a lifespan of four thousand years. Next he was born in Nirmāṇarati as a heavenly prince, with a lifespan of eight thousand years. When his lifespan in Nirmāṇarati was exhausted, he was reborn in the sixth [heaven], Paranirmitavaśavartin, as a heavenly prince; the pleasures of the five desires that he enjoyed with palace maidens were the most supreme among those below, for the full heavenly lifespan of sixteen thousand years. Enjoying pleasure in this way, he went back and forth seven times through the six heavens of the desire realm without untimely death. Having left the household life for a single day, for a full twenty kalpas he did not fall into the evil destinies, always born in heaven to receive natural blessings. Finally, born among humans into a wealthy and happy family, fully endowed with wealth and treasures, when his prime of life had passed and old age approached, he grew weary of the world, left the household life to cultivate the Way, and became a pratyekabuddha named Viruteja, extensively delivering devas and humans beyond measure. On account of this cause and condition, the merit of leaving the household life is limitless, boundless, and beyond comparison. Even if arhats filled the four continents, and someone were to serve them wholeheartedly for a hundred years with the four requisites without deficiency, and even build stūpas for each upon their nirvāṇa, offering flowers, incense, necklaces, and all kinds of offerings—the merit obtained thereby would not equal the merit of a person who, seeking nirvāṇa, leaves the household life and upholds the precepts for a single day and single night. Judging by this, the practice of leaving the household life is truly worthy of honor and veneration; one must not, for a little wealth and sex, covet mundane affairs, drift through saṃsāra, and torment oneself.

22.32

The Zhong benqi jing says: Devadatta (in the Qi language: 'Heaven-Heat', named so because at his birth the minds of humans, devas, and the multitude were all startled and heated).

22.33

The Commentary on the Mahāyānasaṃgraha by Asvabhāva also says: 'Deva' [in Devadatta] (in the Tang language: 'Heaven-Bestowed', also called 'Heaven-Given', meaning obtained by begging from heaven, hence called 'Heaven-Bestowed').

22.34

The Ekottarika-āgama also says: Devadatta addressed the Buddha, saying, 'I wish that you would allow me to join the ranks of the Way.' The Buddha said, 'You should remain at home, sharing your wealth in almsgiving. To be a śramaṇa is truly not easy.' Devadatta addressed the Buddha again, a second and third time; the Buddha again told him that he was not suited to leave the household life. Devadatta then gave rise to an evil thought: 'This śramaṇa harbors jealousy in his heart. I should now shave my own head and cultivate the pure conduct well. What need have I for this śramaṇa's words?' Devadatta later committed the five sins of immediate retribution. With an evil mind, he wished to go to where the Tathāgata was; as he set foot upon the ground, a great fire and wind arose from the earth, encircling Devadatta's body. Being burned by the fire, he then gave rise to a mind of remorse and proclaimed, 'Homage to the Buddha!' (Namo Buddhāya), but it was not ultimate, and he immediately entered hell. Ānanda wept and said, 'How long will Devadatta remain in hell?' The Buddha said, 'He will pass a mahākalpa. When his life ends, he will be born above the Four Heavenly Kings, passing successively up to Paranirmitavaśavartin Heaven; for sixty kalpas he will not fall into the three evil destinies. Finally, receiving a body, he will become a pratyekabuddha named Namo, because at the moment of his death he proclaimed "Namo".' At that time Mahāmaudgalyāyana said, 'I wish to go into the Avīci Hell to see Devadatta, to comfort and congratulate him.' The Buddha said, 'Sinners in Avīci do not understand the sounds of the human world.' Maudgalyāyana addressed the Buddha, 'I understand sixty-four kinds of sounds; I shall use these sounds to go and speak to that person.' In the time it takes to bend and stretch an arm, Maudgalyāyana arrived above the Avīci Hell and called out in the sky, 'Devadatta!' The hell wardens said, 'Here there are also Devadattas from the times of Krakucchanda Buddha and Kāśyapa Buddha. Whom are you calling now?' Maudgalyāyana said, 'I am calling Devadatta, the son of the paternal uncle of Śākyamuni Buddha.' The hell wardens scorched his body to awaken him, saying, 'Look up into the sky!' He saw Mahāmaudgalyāyana seated on a precious lotus flower. Devadatta said to Maudgalyāyana, 'Venerable One, on what account have you condescended to come here?' Maudgalyāyana said, 'The Tathāgata gave a prophecy: because you wished to harm the World-Honoured One, you entered Avīci, but finally you will become a pratyekabuddha named Namo.' Devadatta, hearing this, rejoiced and said, 'Today, lying on my right side in the Avīci Hell throughout an entire kalpa, I will never feel weariness.' Maudgalyāyana asked further, 'Has your suffering and pain increased or decreased?' Devadatta replied, 'Hot iron wheels melt and destroy my body; iron pestles pound and crush my form; fierce black elephants trample my corpse; and volcanic mountains come to crush my face. My kāṣāya of former days has turned into copper sheets, intensely blazingly hot. Now, through you, I bow my head to the feet of the World-Honoured One, and I also pay homage to the Venerable Ānanda.' Maudgalyāyana then withdrew his supernatural power and returned to the World-Honoured One. Furthermore, the Mahāprajñāpāramitā-śāstra says: Devadatta's disciple was named Kokālika. He slandered Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana; when his life ended, he fell into the Lotus Hell. In the Benqi jing, he is named Quheli.

22.35

Furthermore, the Bao'en jing says: In the distant past, immeasurable kalpas ago, a buddha appeared in the world named Yingxian ('Manifested in Accordance'). After that buddha entered extinction, during the Semblance Dharma, there was a meditation-practicing monk dwelling alone in a forest. At that time the monk was constantly troubled by nits and lice, so he made a covenant with them, saying: 'When I sit in meditation, you must remain silent, concealing your bodies and dwelling quietly.' The lice acted according to this rule. Later, at one time, an earthen flea came beside a louse and asked, 'Why is your body and flesh so plump and flourishing?' The louse said, 'The master upon whom I rely constantly cultivates meditation and taught me the proper times for eating. Because I eat according to the rule, my body is fresh and plump.' The flea said, 'I also wish to practice this rule.' The louse said, 'If you can do so, as you please.' At that time, the monk immediately sat in meditation. Thereupon the earthen flea smelled the fragrance of blood and flesh and immediately bit into it. The monk's mind was distressed; he at once took off his robe and burned it with fire. The Buddha said: 'The meditation-practicing monk of that time is now Kāśyapa; the earthen flea of that time is now Devadatta; the louse of that time is my own self. For the sake of gain and sustenance, Devadatta harmed me, right down to the present day when I have become a buddha; also for the sake of gain and sustenance, he caused blood to flow from the Buddha's body and fell alive into hell. Devadatta has constantly harbored an evil mind to harm the Tathāgata; if one were to speak of these matters, an entire kalpa would not exhaust them.'

22.36

Furthermore, the Sūtra of the Storehouse of Sundry Jewels says: The Buddha was in Kapilavastu and entered the city to beg for food. He arrived at the house of his younger brother, Sundarananda. It happened that Nanda was putting makeup on his wife, applying fragrant cosmetic between her eyebrows. Hearing that the Buddha was at the gate, he wished to go out to see him. His wife made an agreement with him, saying, 'Go out to see the Tathāgata, but return before the makeup on my forehead is dry.' Nanda went out at once, saw the Buddha, and made obeisance. Taking the bowl, he went into the house, filled it with food, and offered it to the Buddha. The Buddha did not take it from him; he passed it to Ānanda, who also did not take it from him. Ānanda said to him, 'From whom did you receive the bowl? Return it to its original owner.' Thereupon, carrying the bowl, he followed the Buddha to the Nyagrodha Monastery. The Buddha then ordered a barber to shave Nanda's hair. Nanda refused, and raising a fist in anger, said to the barber, 'Can you now shave the hair of all the people of Kapilavastu?' The Buddha asked the barber, 'Why do you not shave him?' He replied, 'Out of fear, I dare not shave him.' The Buddha and Ānanda approached him in person; out of fear, Nanda dared not refuse to be shaved. Although he had his hair shaved, he constantly wished to return home. The Buddha always took him along, so he was unable to leave. Later, on one day, it was his turn to guard the rooms. He rejoiced to himself: 'Now I truly have an opportunity to return home! Waiting until the Buddha and the saṃgha have all departed, I shall go home.' After the Buddha entered the city, Nanda thought: 'I should draw water to fill the washing jars, and only then return.' He immediately drew water, but just as one jar was filled, another overturned. In this way time passed, yet he could not fill the jars. He then said: 'Neither can be filled; let the monks return and draw it themselves. I shall now leave both jars in the room and go.' Just as he closed the doors, no sooner was one leaf closed than the other opened again; no sooner was one door closed than the other opened again. He thought again: 'Neither can be closed; let them be and I will leave. Even if the monks' robes and belongings are lost, I have abundant wealth, enough to compensate them.' He at once left the monks' quarters and thought to himself: 'The Buddha will surely come by this way; I shall go by that different road.' The Buddha, knowing his intention, also came by the different road. Seeing the Buddha approaching from afar, Nanda hid behind a large tree. The tree spirit lifted the tree into the open sky, leaving him standing in the open ground. Seeing Nanda, the Buddha led him back to the monastery and asked him, 'Do you miss your wife?' He replied, 'Indeed I do.' The Buddha then led Nanda to Mount Anapo, and again asked Nanda, 'Is your wife beautiful?' He replied, 'She is beautiful.' On the mountain there was an old, blind monkey. The Buddha asked him again, 'Is your wife Sundarī's face and head as beautiful as this monkey, or how does she compare?' Nanda was distressed and thought: 'My wife's beauty has few equals among humans. Why does the Buddha now compare my wife to a blind monkey?' The Buddha then took him up to Trāyastriṃśa Heaven, and together they looked through all the heavenly palaces. He saw devaputras and devakanyās making merry together. He saw that in one palace there were five hundred heavenly maidens, but no devaputra. He immediately came to ask the Buddha. The Buddha said, 'Go and ask them yourself.' Nanda went and asked, 'All the palaces have devaputras; why is there no devaputra here alone?' The maidens replied, 'In Jambudvīpa, the Buddha's younger brother Nanda was forced by the Buddha to leave the household life. By the cause and condition of leaving the household life, when his life ends he will be born in this heavenly palace to be our devaputra.' Nanda replied, 'That is my very self!' and wished to stay right away. The heavenly maidens said to him, 'We are devas; you are now human. The paths of humans and devas are different. Go back for now, shed your human life, and be reborn here; then you may stay.' He then returned to where the Buddha was, and reported everything as described above to the World-Honoured One. The Buddha said to Nanda, 'How does your wife's beauty compare to the heavenly maidens?' Nanda replied, 'Compared to those heavenly maidens, she is like a blind monkey compared to my wife.' The Buddha took Nanda back to Jambudvīpa. For the sake of wishing to be born in heaven, Nanda diligently observed the precepts. Ānanda then spoke a verse for him:

22.37

Just as fighting rams
Move forward only to retreat again,
Your upholding the precepts for the sake of desire
Is also like this.

22.38

The Buddha further brought Nanda to the hells. He saw cauldrons of boiling soup all boiling people, but saw only one cauldron bubbling and boiling while remaining empty. Wondering at the reason for this, he came and asked the Buddha. The Buddha told him, “Go and ask yourself.” Nanda then asked the hell-warden, saying, “All the cauldrons are boiling and torturing sinners; why is this cauldron empty with nothing being boiled in it?” He answered, “In Jambudvīpa there is a disciple of the Tathāgata named Nanda. Because of the merit of renouncing the household life, he is destined to be born in heaven. But because of the conditions of his desire to abandon the Way, when his heavenly lifespan ends he will fall into this hell. Therefore, I am now blowing the fire under the cauldron and awaiting Nanda.” Having heard this, Nanda was terrified, fearing the hell-warden would detain him. He at once said, “Namo Buddhāya! Namo Buddhāya! I only pray that you will protect and take me back to Jambudvīpa.” The Buddha said to Nanda, “Are you able to diligently keep the precepts and cultivate your heavenly blessings?” Nanda answered, “There is no use in being born in heaven; now I only pray that I do not fall into this hell.” The Buddha preached the Dharma for him, and within one seven-day period he became an arhat. The monks exclaimed in praise, “The World-Honoured One’s appearance in the world is exceedingly rare and wondrous!” The Buddha said, “Not only today is it like this; in the past it was also like this.” The monks said, “In the past it was also so? What was that affair? Please explain it for us.” The Buddha said: In the past, the king of the country of Kāśi was named Full Face (Pūrṇamukha). In the country of Videha there was a courtesan who was remarkably beautiful and wonderful. At that time the two countries were constantly hostile and resentful toward each other. A flattering minister at the side praised and spoke to the king of Kāśi: “That country has a courtesan whose beauty is rare in the world.” When the king heard these words, his mind gave rise to infatuation and attachment. He sent an envoy to request her, but that country would not give her. He sent an envoy again, saying, “I only ask to see her briefly; in four or five days she will be sent back.” Then the king of that country instructed the courtesan: “Bring to full perfection all your charms and arts, so that the king of Kāśi becomes infatuated with and attached to you, unable to leave you for an instant.” Then he sent her off. After four or five days had passed, he soon summoned her back, saying, “I wish to perform a great sacrifice and must have this woman. Release her to return for a short time; afterward she will be sent again.” Then the king of Kāśi sent the woman back. When the great sacrifice was finished, he sent an envoy to ask for her return. The reply was, “She will be sent tomorrow.” But when tomorrow came, she was still not sent. Such false words continued for many days. The king’s mind was so infatuated and attached that, leading only a few men, he wished to go to that country. The ministers remonstrated with him, but he would not accept their advice. At that time, on the Mount of the Seers (Ṛṣigiri), there was a monkey king who was intelligent, erudite, and knowledgeable. His mate having just died, he took a female monkey. The troop of monkeys all became angry and rebuked him: “This female monkey belongs in common to the troop; by what cause do you alone appropriate her?” At that time, taking the female monkey, the monkey king fled toward the country of Kāśi to take refuge with the king. The troop of monkeys all pursued them. When they arrived inside the city, they uncovered roofs and broke down walls beyond control. The king of Kāśi said to the monkey king, “Why do you not return the female monkey to the monkeys now?” The monkey king said, “My mate died and I had no other mate; why does the king now wish to make me return her?” The king said to him, “Now your monkeys are destroying and throwing my country into disorder; how could you not return her?” The monkey king said, “Is this matter bad?” The king answered, “It is bad.” Repeating this two and three times, the king still said, “It is bad.” The monkey king said, “In your palace you have eighty-four thousand consorts; you take no pleasure in them and wish to go to an enemy country in pursuit of a courtesan. I now have no mate and took only this one, yet you say it is bad. All the myriad common people look to you for their livelihood; for the sake of a single courtesan, why would you cast away the affairs of state? Great King, you should know: the matter of lust has little pleasure and much suffering, just like holding a blazing torch against the wind—the fool who does not let it go will surely be burned and harmed. Lust is impure, like a heap of dung. Lust displays an outer form covered only by thin skin. Lust has no loyalty, like a venomous snake smeared with dung. Lust is like a treacherous bandit falsely showing affection to attach to a person. Lust is like a loan that must be returned. Lust is loathsome, like flowers growing in a latrine. Lust is like an itch facing a fire: scratching it only worsens it. Lust is like a dog gnawing a dry bone, mixing it with saliva and imagining there is flavor, breaking its lips and teeth entirely without ever knowing satisfaction. Lust is like a thirsty man drinking salt water, which only increases his thirst. Lust is like a piece of meat for which many birds contend. Lust is like fish fighting [for bait], greedy for flavor unto death—its harm is exceedingly great.” The monkey king of that time was myself; the king of that time was Nanda; and the courtesan of that time was Sundarī. At that time I pulled Nanda out of the mire of lust; now I have likewise pulled him out of the suffering of birth and death.

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法苑珠林 — 道世, Classical Chinese