法苑珠林 77

English (machine translation) 77

Language: English

77.1

Compiled by the Śramaṇa Shi Daoshi of Ximing Temple

77.2

Section 84: The Ten Unwholesome Deeds, Part 5

77.3

Division 11: Greed and Stinginess (comprising two sub-sections)

Now, the delusional afflictions of sentient beings have attachment to self as their origin, and the erroneous delusions of the common sort have greed and stinginess as their foundation. Therefore, good is as light as a fine hair, while evil is as heavy as hills and mountains; blessings are as scanty as spring ice, while poverty is as abundant as autumn rain. The net of the six emotions is not easily transcended; the ford of the three poisons offers no way across. With heavy bodies continually sinking, they are like fish in a river; wishing to beat their wings and fly, they find it difficult to be like birds in the sky. Consequently, poverty follows upon poverty, vying to oppress them; suffering succeeds suffering, contending to bring them harm. They are like flying moths brushing against flames, courting their own burning; like silkworms spinning cocoons, not bound by others. Truly, it is due to stinginess and the obstruction of greed that they endure punishment, hunger, and cold; giving is the cause of wealth, perpetually inviting abundance and joy.

77.6

Sub-section 2: Citations of Proof

77.7

As a verse in the Fenbie yebao jing says:

77.8

"One who always delights in cultivating wisdom / but does not practice giving,
Where born, is always intelligent and wise, / yet destitute, without possessions.
One who solely delights in practicing giving / but does not cultivate wisdom,
Where born, obtains great wealth, / yet is foolish, dark, and without knowledge or vision.
One who cultivates both giving and wisdom, / where born, is endowed with wealth and wisdom;
One who cultivates neither / dwells in poverty and lowliness through the long night."

77.9

Therefore the Mahāyānasaṃgraha says: 'Stinginess is an obstacle to great wealth; jealousy is an obstacle to high status.' Furthermore, when sentient beings give rise to greed, nothing exceeds sensual form and wealth. First, excessive attachment to sensual form has many faults, as has been recounted before; for those who do not yet accept this, it will now be discussed briefly again. As the Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: 'Suppose a person takes a rākṣasī as his wife and concubine; whatever children this rākṣasī gives birth to, having given birth to them she immediately devours them, and when the children are exhausted, she then devours her husband. Attachment, like the rākṣasī, is also like this: whatever children of wholesome roots sentient beings give birth to, it devours them as they are born, and when the wholesome children are exhausted, it then devours the sentient beings, causing them to fall into hells, animals, and hungry ghosts. Furthermore, suppose a person by nature loves beautiful flowers, and failing to see the peril of a poisonous snake in the flower stem, immediately reaches forward to grasp it; having grasped it, the snake bites him, and having been bitten, his life ends. All ordinary beings are also like this: coveting the flowers of the five desires, they do not see the peril of the poisonous snake of attachment, and thus accept it, immediately being bitten by the venom of attachment, and after their lives end, they fall into the three evil paths.' Second, as for those who give rise to greed toward wealth: greed for wealth brings about disaster and is afflicted by great suffering, turning against both the monastic and lay ways and causing estrangement among kin. Thus the Mahāprajñāpāramitā-śāstra says: 'Material possessions are the conditions for various defilements and sinful karmas; upholding precepts, dhyāna meditation, wisdom, and various wholesome dharmas are the conditions for nirvāṇa. For this reason, material possessions should be discarded by oneself, how much more should they not be given away in excellent fields of merit? For example, there were two brothers, each carrying ten catties of gold, traveling on a road with no other companions. The elder brother thought: "Why should I not kill my younger brother and take his gold? On this open road, no one will know." The younger brother also gave rise to the thought of wanting to kill his elder brother and take his gold. Both brothers harbored evil intentions; their words and gazes both altered. The brothers then awakened to themselves and gave rise to regret: "We are inhuman; how do we differ from beasts? Being brothers of the same womb, yet for the sake of a little gold, we gave rise to evil intentions!" The brothers went together to the edge of a spring. The elder brother threw his gold into the water, and the younger brother said, "Excellent, excellent!" The younger brother also cast his gold into the water, and the elder brother said, "Excellent, excellent!" The brothers asked each other: "Why did you say 'Excellent'?" Each answered: "Because of this gold, I gave rise to unwholesome thoughts wanting to harm you; now that I have discarded it, I said 'Excellent.'" Both spoke identical words. Due to this cause, one should always abandon [wealth] oneself.'

77.10

Furthermore, the Kalpanāmaṇḍitikā says: 'I once heard in the past that in the city of Śrāvastī, the Buddha was walking in an open field with Ānanda. Beside a field, they saw a hidden treasure. The Buddha said to Ānanda: "This is a great poisonous snake." Ānanda said to the Buddha: "This is an evil poisonous snake." At that time, there was a farmer in the field who heard the Buddha and Ānanda say there was a poisonous snake, and he thought: "I should go look at it; what do the śramaṇas consider an evil poisonous snake?" He immediately went there and saw a heap of real gold, and said: "What the śramaṇas called a poisonous snake is actually fine gold!" He then took this gold and brought it back to his home. This person had formerly been poor, lacking clothing and food; because he obtained the gold, he became increasingly wealthy, indulging freely in food and clothing. The royal authorities found his sudden wealth suspicious, investigated him, and threw him into prison. Although the gold he had previously obtained was already exhausted, he was still not pardoned and was about to be executed. The man cried out: "Poisonous snake, Ānanda! Evil poisonous snake, World-Honoured One!" Bystanders heard this and reported the situation to the king. The king summoned that man and asked him: "Why do you cry out: 'Poisonous snake, Ānanda! Evil poisonous snake, World-Honoured One!'?" The man said to the king: "In past days while plowing in the field, I heard the Buddha and Ānanda speak of a poisonous snake and an evil poisonous snake. Only today have I awakened to understand." When the king heard this explanation, he promptly released him.'

77.11

Furthermore, the Ekottarika-āgama says: In the past, when the Buddha was in the world, there was an elder in the city of Śrāvastī named Bhadiya. His household was immensely wealthy, with boundless property and treasures, and gold and silver beyond count. Although his family was wealthy, he was stingy and guarded his riches, neither wearing them nor eating [well]. His clothing and food were extremely coarse and vulgar. Nor did he give [anything] to his wife, children, relatives, male or female slaves, servants, friends, acquaintances, or to any śramaṇas, brahmins, and the like. Moreover, he gave rise to wrong views and severed his roots of goodness. However, he had no sons. After he died, all his treasures and wealth were entirely confiscated by the government. King Prasenajit personally went to collect and gather them. Having completed the collection, he returned to where the Buddha was, and addressed the Buddha, saying, 'Where was the elder Bhadiya born after his death today?' The Buddha told the king, 'The elder Bhadiya's past merit has already been exhausted, and he created no new karma. Because he gave rise to wrong views and severed his roots of goodness, at death he was born in the Raurava Hell.' When King Prasenajit heard what the Buddha said, he wept, shedding tears, and addressed the Buddha, saying, 'What karma did the elder Bhadiya perform in the past to be born into a wealthy family? And what evil did he commit that he could not enjoy the pleasures of this extreme wealth?' The Buddha told the king, 'Long ago in the distant past, after Kāśyapa Buddha entered nirvāṇa, at that time this elder was born in the kingdom of Śrāvastī as the son of a farming household. A pratyekabuddha came to his house and begged for food from him. At that time, this elder took food and gave it as alms. Having received the food, the pratyekabuddha flew away into the sky. Seeing this, the elder made this vow: "By this root of goodness, may I, in every life and place of birth, never fall into the three miserable paths and always have an abundance of wealth and treasures." After having given the alms, he subsequently gave rise to a mind of regret: "The food I just gave should have been given to my male and female slaves; it should not have been given to this bald-headed śramaṇa." The Buddha told the king, 'Because of the merit of his vow when giving food to the pratyekabuddha in the past, the elder Bhadiya always had an abundance of wealth and treasures without any lack wherever he was born. But because he gave rise to a mind of regret after giving, wherever he was born, though dwelling in wealth and honor, he could not enjoy the pleasures of this extreme wealth. Stingy and guarded, he did not clothe or feed himself, nor did he give to his wife, children, and relatives, nor did he give to his friends, acquaintances, or to any śramaṇas, brahmins, and the like. Therefore, wise ones, having heard of this causal condition, if you have wealth and possessions, you should practice dāna and not give rise to stinginess. When giving, with a sincere mind present it with your own hands. Having given, rejoice and do not give rise to a mind of regret. One who can give in this way will obtain great retribution, boundless and limitless.'

77.12

Furthermore, the Avadāna-sūtra (Chuyao jing) says: In the past, when the Buddha was in the world, there was an elder in the kingdom of Śrāvastī named Nanda. He was immensely wealthy with abundant riches, gold, silver, rare gems, elephants, horses, carriages, male and female slaves, servants, clothing, and agricultural estates beyond measure. In the wealth of the entire kingdom, none surpassed him. Although he lived in extreme wealth, he had no faithful mind, but was stingy, greedy, and jealous. His gates were sevenfold. He instructed the gatekeeper: 'If anyone comes begging, under no circumstances may they enter.' In the open sky above the central courtyard, he installed an open iron cage, fearing that flying birds might eat the grain and rice. Below the walls on all four sides, he sealed the cracks with white paste-clay, fearing that mice might bore holes and damage the property. He had only one son, named Candanagandha. Near death, he instructed his son: 'My illness is certainly fatal. After I die, do not waste or diminish any of the treasures and wealth. Do not give to śramaṇas or brahmins. If there are beggars, do not give them a single coin. These various possessions are sufficient to supply seven generations.' Having instructed him, his life ended. He was reborn in that same Śrāvastī in the womb of a blind mother in a caṇḍāla household. Later, when delivered from the womb, he was born blind without eyes. The blind mother had thought: 'If I bear a boy, since my eyes are now dark, I will have someone to support and serve me.' Hearing that the child was born blind, her sorrow and anxiety doubled. Weeping sorrowfully, she spoke a verse, saying:

77.13

'The child is blind and I too am blind; / Both alike lack both eyes. / Meeting with this ruinous thing, / It only increases my sorrow, grief, and pain.'

77.14

At that time, the blind mother raised the child until he was grown, eight or nine years of age, and capable of walking about. She gave him a staff and a food vessel, and told the child: 'Beg to sustain your own life; you need not stay here. I too have no eyes, and must also beg to preserve the remainder of my life.' This blind little boy begged from house to house, and eventually arrived at the home of Candanagandha. Standing outside the gate, he cried out that a blind boy was begging. At that time, the gatekeeper angrily grabbed his hand and threw him into a deep ditch, breaking his left arm and also smashing his head open. All the food he had begged for was completely scattered on the ground. Someone who saw it felt great pity and grief, and went to tell the blind mother. Having heard, the blind mother crawled, leaning on her staff, to where the blind boy was, gathered him onto her lap, and said to the child: 'What fault did you commit to encounter such bitter affliction?' The child replied to his mother, saying: 'Just now, I went outside the gate of Candanagandha's house to beg, and then encountered an evil man who struck and threw me down like this.' The Buddha, knowing this at that time, told Ānanda, 'Disaster, disaster! The elder Nanda, having died, became the child of that blind woman in a caṇḍāla household, born without both eyes. In his former life his estate and possessions were boundless in extreme wealth, with elephants, horses, and the seven treasures beyond count. But can he now personally use them? It is because of stinginess and greed that he received this retribution of blindness. Dying from this life, he will enter the Avīci Hell.' Around midday, the Buddha, together with the assembly of bhikṣus, entered the city, surrounded by the people, and went to the blind boy at Candanagandha's gate. At that time, Candanagandha heard that the Buddha was outside, came out of the gate, prostrated himself, and stood to one side. The Buddha, knowing that the crowd had gathered and also seeing Candanagandha, broadly explained to the assembly that stinginess, greed, and jealousy bring about boundless punishment, just as practicing generous giving brings about inexhaustible blessings, wishing to cause them to leave the realms of existence and advance toward the unconditioned path. At that time, the World-Honoured One, wishing to pluck out the suffering of hell for Candanagandha, addressed the little boy, saying, 'Are you the elder Nanda or not?' The boy replied, 'I am truly Nanda.' This happened up to three times. Hearing this, the great assembly was astonished and said, 'Did the elder Nanda indeed receive such a form?' At that time, Candanagandha, hearing and seeing this matter, wept and shed tears, unable to stop himself. He bowed to the Buddha, begging for deliverance, wishing to pluck out the roots of sin. He then invited the Buddha and the Saṃgha to eat at his residence the next day. The next day, after the meal was over, the Buddha explained the wondrous Dharma for him. At that time, Candanagandha attained the fruit of a srotāpanna. The Buddha told Ānanda, 'If a person amasses wealth and neither clothes nor feeds himself, nor practices dāna, he is the most foolish of the foolish. Therefore, the wise should practice giving, seeking to escape birth and death, and not give rise to stinginess and suffer boundless torment.'

77.15

Furthermore, the Rucika Elder Sūtra (Luzhi zhangzhe jing) says: In the past, when the Buddha was in the world, there was an elder in the city of Śrāvastī named Rucika. His household was immensely wealthy, with boundless property and treasures, like Vaiśravaṇa. Because in the past he had given to a superior field of merit, he obtained this retribution. However, when he gave, he was unable to do so with a sincere mind; therefore, though he was now wealthy, his mind was persistently lowly and vile. The clothes he wore were dirty, worn out, and impure. For food, he used chaff and wild greens to stave off his hunger. When thirsty, he only drank water. When traveling, he rode in a decaying cart, toiling diligently to manage his family estate just like a slave. He was constantly ridiculed by the people of the world. Later, at one time, the people in the city held a great festival. They adorned their residences, hung silk banners and canopies, sprinkled the ground with perfumed water, and scattered various famous flowers. With various adornments, music, singing, and dancing, they enjoyed pleasures just like the gods. Seeing this, Rucika gave rise to the thought: 'Since they are rejoicing in assembly, I should also do so.' He immediately hurried back home, opened his storehouse himself, and took out five coins. Having gotten them, he reflected: 'If I eat at home, my mother, wife, and relatives cannot be fully provided for. If I go to another's house, I fear the host will take it.' Thereupon he used two coins to buy roasted grain flour, two coins to buy wine, and one coin to buy onions. From inside his house, he took a handful of salt, wrapped it in his lapel, and carried it outside the city. He headed under a tree. Having arrived under the tree, he saw many crows and birds, and feared they would come and seize it. He then went among the tombs, but there saw many dogs, so he immediately fled again. Reaching a vacant and quiet place, he put the salt into the wine, mixed it with the flour, and drank it, occasionally biting into an onion. Having never drunk wine before, he immediately became very drunk. Having become drunk, he got up, danced, and sang aloud. The words of his song said:

77.16

'I now celebrate the festive assembly, / Indulging in wine with great rejoicing, / Surpassing Vaiśravaṇa, / And also excelling Śakra, King of the Gods!'

77.17

At that time, Śakra happened to be going to where the Buddha was together with his heavenly host. He happened to see Rucika drunkenly dancing and singing, claiming to excel Śakra. Śakra thought to himself, 'This stingy and greedy man drinks wine in a secluded place and insults me. I shall trouble him.' He immediately transformed his own body into Rucika's form, went to Rucika's house, and gathered the mother, wife, male and female slaves, and relatives. Sitting in front of his mother, he addressed her, saying, 'In the past and recently, there has been a great stingy ghost following and pursuing me, making me stingy and sparing, so that I did not wear clothes, eat well, or give to my relatives—all on account of the stingy ghost. Today when I went out, I met a man of the Way who gave me a good incantation that enabled me to dispel the stingy ghost. However, this stingy ghost looks similar to me. If he comes, you should give him a sound beating with clubs. He will certainly falsely claim, "I am Rucika." None of the family members must believe his words! Close the gate quickly. If the stingy ghost should come, wait until what I am doing is finished, and only then open the gate.' He then prepared good food, filling the whole family to satisfaction. He also opened the storehouses, brought out various treasures, clothes, and necklaces, and bestowed them upon the mother, wife, family members, and relatives, and gave to other people as well. Having finished, they played music, sang, danced, and rejoiced, beyond all description. People heard that Rucika's stingy ghost had been dispelled, and all came to watch. When Rucika sobered up from the wine, he returned home and reached the gate. Hearing the sounds of singing and dancing, he was greatly astonished. He knocked on the gate and cried out, but no one responded. Hearing the cries, Śakra said to the crowd, 'The one knocking on the gate and crying out is probably the stingy ghost.' Hearing of the stingy ghost, the people opened the gate and fled to avoid him. Rucika was able to enter. His household and relatives all refused to recognize him, saying he was the stingy ghost, and thereupon seized his feet, dragged him upside down, beat him with clubs, and drove him out of the gate. Reaching the alley, he wept loudly, crying out, 'How strange! Is my present physical form different from the original, or is it not different from the original? Why do my family members abandon me like this, claiming I am a ghost and refusing to recognize me at all? What am I to say now?' At that time, Rucika was as if raving mad. Bystanders and relatives all came to comfort him: 'You are Rucika, and I am your relative, so I have come to look after you. You should strengthen your resolve and devise an expedient method to make yourself clear.' Having heard this, Rucika felt a little comforted in his mind, wiped away his tears, and said, 'I beg you all to look at my face again. Am I now truly Rucika or not?' Everyone answered, saying, 'At present you are indeed Rucika.' He then said to the crowd, 'Can you all testify for me or not?' The crowd all said, 'We will testify for you that you are indeed Rucika.' Rucika replied, 'If that is so, listen to me explain the circumstances:'

77.18

'Who is this young man / Who looks so very much like me? / Together with my beloved wife, / He sits on the same couch, knee to knee. / The family and relatives close to me / Beat me and drive me out; / Those close to me all love him, / And settle him within my home. / I endured the pains of hunger and cold / To amass all the money and wealth; / He now spends it at will, / While I do not have a single fraction of a hair! / Just like Vaiśravaṇa, / He indulges himself in food and clothing. / The people in the city / Each give rise to doubt and astonishment, / And all speak words such as these: / "How can this matter be?" / Among them are wise ones / Who make statements such as these: / "This is a licentious and cunning man of this place, / Whose appearance resembles Rucika; / Knowing him to be greatly stingy and greedy, / He has come purposely to disturb and confuse him. / We should join together to testify and deliver him, / And ought not to let him be cast aside!"'

77.19

At that time, when the people heard these words, they all agreed with one accord and said, “Luci, what are you trying to do now?” Luci said, “Please serve as witnesses for me. I wish to see the king, and I also beg you to lend me two bolts of white cotton cloth worth about four grains of gold, so that I may present them to the king.” Everyone laughed and said, “Luci has now become a great donor!” Tucking the two bolts of cotton cloth under his arm, he went to the palace gate and said to the gatekeeper, “Announce me to the king; I wish to make an offering.” The gatekeeper was startled and laughed, then went in to report to the king. When the king heard this, he thought, “Luci is so stingy that he would not part with anything until death. How could he suddenly do this?” The king then summoned him in. Having arrived before the king, he tried to pull out the cotton cloth with his hands to present it to the king. Because his armpit clamped down tightly, he could not pull it out; he then turned his body around and tugged with all his might before it finally came out. Once it came out, Śakra transformed it into two bundles of grass. When Luci saw the grass, he sat on the ground in shame, sobbing and choking with tears, unable to speak. The king felt compassion on seeing him and said to him, “Even if it is grass, there is no harm. Whatever you wish to say, speak according to your mind.” Choking with tears, Luci said to the king, “Seeing this grass, my shame is extreme; I wish I could sink into the ground. I do not know whether I have this body today or have no body. To whom can I appeal?” Hearing this, the king felt pity and said to the bystanders, “Since he is choked with grief and cannot speak, whoever knows his intention should speak on his behalf.” The bystanders answered the king, “We do not know what kind of person, identical in appearance, went to his house and falsely claimed to be Luci. The family all believed him, squandering and exhausting all the wealth and property. The family did not recognise [the real Luci], beat him with clubs, drove him out, and treated him like a stranger on the road. For this reason, he is distressed and cannot speak.” Hearing this, the king sent an envoy to summon the identical man, and both stood before the king. Seeing the two men, their features, words, and smiles were completely identical. The king thought the latter one was the real Luci, and said to the former, “What else do you wish to argue now?” Luci answered, “I am Luci; he is not Luci.” The king asked the latter, “Luci is stingy, but you are fond of giving. How can you claim to be Luci?” He answered the king, “I heard the Buddha say that the stingy fall among the hungry ghosts, enduring the suffering of hunger and thirst for hundreds of thousands of myriad years. Fearing these causes and conditions, I have abandoned stinginess.” The king said, “Indeed it is so. Just as soiled clothing is cleaned as soon as it is washed with lye, so the defilement of afflictions in the mind is eradicated as soon as one hears the Dharma.” Having observed this, the king separated the two men into different places and sent each to list the number of relatives and various properties, and quickly write them down and bring them. The intimate matters and handwriting held by both were completely identical, and the king could not distinguish between them. The king called the mother to question her. The mother said to the king, “This one is my son; that one is not my son—he is the ghost of stinginess.” The king asked the mother again, “Have you seen any scars, moles, or private marks on his body by which he can be recognised?” The mother answered the king, “My son has a small scar under his left flank, about the size of a small bean.” The king ordered them to strip off their clothes and raise their arms high to look; he saw that both scars were identical in size. Seeing this, the king laughed heartily, marvelled at this unprecedented event, and deeply blamed himself: “All sentient beings are covered by ignorance and darkness and cannot distinguish truth from falsehood. Such matters can only be resolved by the Buddha.” He then placed the two men on an elephant and went with them to the Buddha's place to request a resolution of the doubt. At that time, the World-Honoured One raised his arm marked with auspicious signs and his adorned hand, and said to Śakra, “What have you done?” Śakra immediately eliminated the physical appearance of Luci and returned to his original form with various radiances. Joining his palms toward the Buddha, he spoke a verse:

77.20

“Constantly driven by stinginess, / he refused to clothe or feed himself. / With five coins he bought ale and roasted flour, added salt, and drank it; / having drunk it, he became utterly drunk, / jested, laughed, sang, and danced, / and reviled me and the gods. / For this reason / I deliberately distressed him.”

77.21

The Buddha said to Śakra, “All sentient beings have faults and transgressions; you ought to let it go.” The transformed body returned to Śakra's form and said to the Buddha, “This man was stingy and would not clothe or feed himself. He bought ale and roasted flour with five coins, mixed them with salt, drank, became drunk, sang, danced, and reviled the gods. Therefore I distressed him.” The Buddha said to Śakra, “All sentient beings have transgressions; you ought to let it go.” The Buddha said to Luci, “Return home and inspect your wealth.” Luci said to the Buddha, “Śakra has exhausted all my wealth; why should I return home?” Śakra said to him, “I have not damaged a single hair's worth of your wealth.” Luci said, “I do not believe Śakra; I only believe the Buddha's words.” Because he believed the Buddha, he immediately attained the fruit of a srotāpanna. At that time, the eight classes of gods and dragons, as well as the fourfold assembly, all attained the four fruits of the path upon hearing this, and planted the causes and conditions for the three vehicles.

77.22

Furthermore, the *Luoxunyu jing* says: When the Buddha was in the world, there was a brāhmaṇa's son with meager merit. A physiognomist read his fortune and found he had no auspicious signs. When he reached the age of twelve, his parents expelled him. Thereupon he went begging for food and arrived at the Jetavana. The Buddha, with great compassion, stroked his head with his hand; his hair fell out at once, and kāṣāyas adhered to his body. The Buddha gave him a name, calling him Luoxunyu. At that time, whenever the monks of the five divisions went out to beg for alms, whichever division Luoxunyu was in returned with empty bowls. The Buddha instructed the bhikṣus to share [their alms] and give to him; this happened repeatedly. Maudgalyāyana thought, “Because of this bhikṣu, the Saṃgha gets no food.” The Buddha knew his thought, so he accompanied Śāriputra, while making Maudgalyāyana accompany Luoxunyu, each dividing into a separate group. The Buddha told Maudgalyāyana, “You must not go where I am.” Maudgalyāyana then walked with Luoxunyu. Wherever they were about to go, they immediately saw the Buddha and Śāriputra at the gate. In this manner they passed through over five hundred billion kingdoms, and still obtained no food. Maudgalyāyana thought to himself, “Today I certainly will get no food.” Luoxunyu was extremely starved and stopped by the bank of the Gaṅgā. Maudgalyāyana then went to the Buddha's place. There was still leftover food in the Buddha's bowl, which he gave to Maudgalyāyana. Maudgalyāyana thought, “I am so starved now that even if I swallowed Mount Sumeru I would still not be full; how could such a little rice be enough to eat?” The Buddha told Maudgalyāyana, “Just eat this rice; do not worry about it not being enough.” Maudgalyāyana then ate; after he was full, the rice in the bowl had not diminished. Śāriputra then thought, “Luoxunyu has not eaten yet and must be suffering greatly from hunger.” He said to the Buddha, “I pray to beg for the leftover rice to give to Luoxunyu.” The Buddha then told him, “I do not begrudge the rice, but by the retribution of his past deeds Luoxunyu ought not to obtain it. If you think otherwise, you may give it to him.” Śāriputra then gave the rice to him. Just as Luoxunyu was about to receive the rice, the bowl sank a hundred fathoms into the earth. With the hand of his spiritual power, Śāriputra followed the bowl, retrieved it at once, and returned it to Luoxunyu. Just as he was about to eat it, he accidentally overturned the bowl, and the food spilled and scattered into the water. Luoxunyu returned to his seat, stilled his mind, and thought to himself, “Whenever I walk with the bhikṣus, we never obtain anything and return with empty bowls. When the Buddha gave me rice, I immediately overturned it again. This is all due to karmic retribution; I ought to endure it.” Thereupon he contemplated, his fetters unfastened, his defilements were eliminated, and he attained the path of an arhat. He then ate dirt and entered parinirvāṇa. If you wish to know who Luoxunyu was: in the past, at the time of Vipaśyin Buddha, he was a commoner who constantly harboured stinginess and refused to practice dāna. At one time, when he was about to eat, he stripped off his clothes and spread them on the ground for fear that grains of rice might fall. A śramaṇa passed by begging alms from him. Luoxunyu saw him and said, “What should I give you?” He then took up a handful of dirt in his hands and gave it to the śramaṇa. The śramaṇa then made a vow: “It is only out of foolishness [that you do this]. May you quickly attain deliverance!” From that distant past, wandering through saṃsāra, down to the present, wherever he went he never obtained food. Now having attained the path, he ate dirt and entered nirvāṇa. The śramaṇa who received the dirt was Śāriputra. Therefore know that evil deeds and merit both bring their retribution in the present.

77.23

Furthermore, the *Yijiao sanmei jing* says: This Luoxunyu in a past life was the son of a worthy man. As a person, he was envious and jealous. Whenever he saw a śramaṇa coming to beg alms, he would block the doorway and say, “The master is not at home.” When the śramaṇa went to other houses, he would also pull shut the doors of those other houses and say, “The master is not at home.” Therefore, today he could not obtain alms. Just when he saw others joyfully making offerings of food and drink in gathering, he thought, “I also want to become a śramaṇa.” Therefore today he was destitute like this.

77.24

Furthermore, the Ekottarika-āgama says: At that time, there were four great arhats: Maudgalyāyana, Kāśyapa, Aniruddha, and Piṇḍola. They gathered in one place and spoke thus: "Let us together observe within this city of Rājagṛha who has not made offerings to the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Saṃgha, or made merit." At that time, there was an elder named Bhadrika, whose wealth and treasures were incalculable. He was stingy and greedy, unwilling to practice giving to the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Saṃgha; he had not the slightest hair of goodness. His past merits were exhausted, and he created no new ones. That elder had seven gates, each with guards, so that no beggar could approach the doors. Furthermore, he covered the inner courtyard with iron netting, fearing that flying birds might enter the courtyard. The elder had a younger sister named Nandā, who was also stingy and greedy, harbored wrong views, had no heart for giving or making merit, and acknowledged no one who had realized the fruition of the Path. She also had seven gates, just as before, such that no one could approach her doors. At that time, in the early morning, the elder Bhadrika was eating cakes. At that moment, Aniruddha welled up from the ground inside the elder's house and outstretched his bowl toward the elder. At that time, the elder was extremely sorrowful and distressed; he immediately gave a tiny bit of cake to Aniruddha. When Aniruddha had received the cake, he returned to his dwelling. At that time, the elder grew furious and said to the gatekeepers: "I gave orders not to let anyone enter. Why has someone come in?" The gatekeepers replied: "The gates and doors are secure. We do not know where this religious practitioner came from." At that time, the elder remained silent. When the elder had finished eating the cake, he next ate fish and meat. The Venerable Mahākāśyapa went to the elder's house, welled up from the ground, and outstretched his bowl toward the elder. The elder was extremely distressed, and gave him a tiny bit of fish and meat. When Kāśyapa had received the meat, he vanished from there and returned to his dwelling. At this, the elder became doubly furious, and said to the gatekeepers: "I previously instructed you not to let anyone enter. Why did you again allow two śramaṇas into the house to beg for food?" The gatekeepers replied: "We did not see where these śramaṇas came from." The elder replied: "These bald-headed śramaṇas are skilled in phantom arts; they deceive the people of the world and have no proper conduct." At that time, the elder's wife, sitting not far from the elder, heard this and said to him: "You should guard your speech. Do not speak like this and call it phantom arts! These śramaṇas possess great divine power. The reason they come is to bring abundant benefit. Does the elder know these two bhikṣus?" The elder replied: "I do not know them." The wife said: "[The first] is Prince Aniruddha, the son of Droṇodana. When he was born, this earth shook in six ways, and within one yojana around the house, hidden treasures naturally welled forth." The wife then said to the elder: "This son of a noble clan cultivated the brahma-conduct and attained the arhat path; he is foremost in the divine eye. As for the second bhikṣu, he is the son of the great brāhmaṇa named Kapila in this city of Rājagṛha, whose wealth and treasures are incalculable, who is said to have nine hundred and ninety-nine oxen to plow the fields. The son is named Pippalāyana; his body is golden in color, and his wife was named Bhadrā, exquisite among women—if refined purple gold were placed before her, it would seem as black compared to white. The elder replied: "I have heard the names of these two men, yet I have never seen them." His wife replied: "Those who came earlier and later are their very persons. Abandoning this jewel of a precious woman, [Kāśyapa] went forth to practice the Path, and has now attained arhatship; he always practices dhūta, with none superior to him. I observed this significance and therefore spoke thus: Guard your speech well, and do not slander holy ones by saying they practice phantom arts. These disciples of Śākya all possess divine virtues." At that time, the Venerable Maudgalyāyana put on his robes, held his bowl, and flew into the empty sky. Seeing him seated in the sky, the elder spoke thus: "Are you a deva? A gandharva? Are you a ghost? Or are you a rākṣasa, a human-devouring ghost?" Maudgalyāyana replied: "I am not a rākṣasa, ghost, or the like." At that time, the elder spoke this verse:

77.25

"Are you a deva, a gandharva, / Or a rākṣasa ghost-spirit? / Yet you say you are not a deva, / Nor a rākṣasa ghost-spirit. / You do not seem like a gandharva / Roaming through the regions. / What is your name now? / I now wish to know."

77.26

At that time, Maudgalyāyana replied again in verse, saying:

77.27

"I am not a deva or gandharva, / Nor of the breed of ghosts or rākṣasas; / Having attained liberation across the three times, / Now I have a human body. / He who was able to subdue Māra / And achieve the unsurpassed Path— / My teacher's name is Śākyamuni, / And my name is Mahāmaudgalyāyana."

77.28

At that time, the elder said to Maudgalyāyana: "What instructions does the bhikṣu have?" Maudgalyāyana replied: "I wish to teach you the Dharma. Think on it carefully." At that time, the elder further thought: "These śramaṇas have long been attached to food and drink through the long night. If he wishes to discuss anything now, he surely wants to discuss food. If he asks me for it, I shall say there is none. Yet, I will listen a little to what this man has to say." At that time, Maudgalyāyana, knowing what was in the elder's mind, spoke this verse:

77.29

"The Tathāgata speaks of two kinds of giving: / The giving of Dharma and the giving of wealth. / Mindful that I shall expound the giving of Dharma, / Listen with a focused, unified mind."

77.30

At that time, when the elder heard that he would expound the giving of Dharma, he was filled with joy and said to Maudgalyāyana: "Please expound it promptly; upon hearing it, I shall understand it." Maudgalyāyana said to the elder: "The Tathāgata speaks of five great gifts: namely, not killing, not stealing, not engaging in sexual misconduct, not lying, and not drinking alcohol—practicing these for the rest of one's life." Having heard this, the elder was extremely delighted: "What he speaks of now does not require precious treasures! As for me today, I dare not kill living beings; this can be practiced. Furthermore, my household has abundant wealth and many treasures; I would never steal. This too is what I practice. Furthermore, in my household there are superior, fine women, and I would never commit sexual misconduct; this is what I practice. Furthermore, I do not like people who lie, so how could I lie myself? This too is what I practice. As for me today, my mind has no thought of alcohol, let alone tasting it myself; this too is what I practice." At that time, the elder said to Maudgalyāyana: "These five gifts I am able to practice. I may now provide a meal to this Maudgalyāyana." The elder looked up and said to Maudgalyāyana: "Please bend your spirit to come down, sit here, and favor us." At that time, Maudgalyāyana followed his voice, descended, and took a seat. The elder served the food to Maudgalyāyana with his own hands; when finished, he offered water. The elder thought: "I should take a piece of fine cloth to offer to Maudgalyāyana." At that time, he went into his storeroom to select an inferior piece, but he took a superior piece; discarding it to choose another, it was still a superior piece. At that time, Maudgalyāyana, knowing the elder's mind, spoke this verse:

77.31

"Giving while the mind is in conflict— / Such merit is rejected by the virtuous. / The time of giving is not a time of conflict; / Give in accordance with your mind."

77.32

At that time, the elder realized and thought: "Now Maudgalyāyana knows what is in my mind." He then took the white cloth and offered it to Maudgalyāyana. [Maudgalyāyana] then made a blessing, saying:

77.33

"Discerning giving is foremost; / Knowing there are virtuous and holy persons, / Giving [to them] is the most supreme, / Just as good fields yield fruits."

77.34

Having made this blessing, Maudgalyāyana accepted this white cloth, enabling the elder to receive inexhaustible merit. After he sat to one side, Maudgalyāyana gradually explained the Dharma to him, delivering discourses on giving, moral discipline, and rebirth in heaven; rebuking desire as impure, and teaching that transcendence is bliss. Thereupon, right on his seat, [the elder] attained the pure Dharma eye; having seen the Dharma without doubts, he received the five precepts and took refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma, and the holy Saṃgha. When Maudgalyāyana saw that he had attained the pure Dharma eye, he spoke this verse:

77.35

"The sūtras taught by the Tathāgata / Are fully endowed from root to source; / The eye is pure, without flaw or defilement, / Free from doubt and hesitation."

77.36

Furthermore, the Ekottarika-āgama says: At that time, there was an old woman named Nandā, who was making cakes with her own hands. At that time, the hour having arrived, the Venerable Piṇḍola put on his robes, held his bowl, and entered the city of Rājagṛha to beg for food. Gradually he came to the house of the old woman Nandā. He welled up from the ground, outstretched his hands, held his bowl, and begged for food from the old woman Nandā. When the old woman saw Piṇḍola, she was filled with rage and spoke these harsh words: "Bhikṣu, you should know that even if your eyes fell out, I would never give you food!" At that time, Piṇḍola immediately entered samādhi, and both of his eyes fell out. At that time, the old woman became doubly enraged: "Even if the śramaṇa were suspended upside down in mid-air, I would never give you food!" At that time, the Venerable was suspended upside down in mid-air. The old woman became doubly enraged: "Even if smoke came from the śramaṇa's whole body, I would never give you food!" At that time, smoke came from the Venerable's whole body. The old woman became doubly enraged and spoke these words: "Even if the śramaṇa's whole body caught fire, I would never give you food!" At that time, Piṇḍola made his whole body catch fire. When the old woman saw this, she spoke these words again: "Even if water poured from the śramaṇa's whole body, I would never give you food!" Piṇḍola then made water pour from his whole body. When the old woman saw this, she spoke these words again: "Even if the śramaṇa died before me, I would never give you food!" At that time, Piṇḍola ceased breathing in or out, and died before the old woman. Seeing that he neither breathed in nor out, the old woman was terrified and her hair stood on end. She spoke these words: "This śramaṇa is widely known and respected by the king. If it is heard that he died in my house, I will surely face legal troubles and fear I cannot escape. If he revives, I will give him food." At that time, Piṇḍola immediately arose from samādhi. Then the old woman thought: "This cake is very large; I should make a smaller one to give him." The old woman took a little flour to make a cake, but the cake grew larger. Seeing this, the old woman [thought]: "This cake is very large; I should make a smaller one." Yet the cake grew even larger. [She thought]: "I shall take the one I made earlier and give it to him." Yet all the cakes stuck together. The old woman said to Piṇḍola: "Bhikṣu, if you need food, take it yourself. Why do you harass me like this?" Piṇḍola replied: "Elder sister, I do not need food; I only need you, mother, to listen to what is said." The old woman replied: "What instructions are there?" Piṇḍola replied: "Now take these cakes and go to the World-Honoured One. If he has instructions, let us follow them together." The old woman replied: "This matter is very good." At that time, the old woman personally carried these cakes and followed Piṇḍola to the World-Honoured One. She bowed her head to his feet and stood to one side. [Piṇḍola] addressed the World-Honoured One: "This mother Nandā is the elder Bhadrika's sister. Greedy, stingy, and eating alone, she was unwilling to give to others. We pray that the World-Honoured One expound the Dharma of firm faith for her, so that she may become awakened and enlightened." At that time, the World-Honoured One said to the old woman: "Now take the cakes and give them to the Buddha, the other monks, nuns, upāsakas, upāsikās, and the poor." Yet there were still cakes left. "You may take them and discard them on clean ground and into water without insects." She immediately distributed these cakes in order; and when she placed them into the clean water, flames immediately flared up. Seeing this, the old woman was struck with fear. The World-Honoured One gradually taught her the Dharma, delivering discourses on giving, moral discipline, and rebirth in heaven, and on suffering, its origin, its cessation, and the path. Right on her seat, she attained the pure Dharma eye; she revered the Three Jewels, received and upheld the five precepts, was filled with joy, bowed to the Buddha, and departed.

77.37

Furthermore, the Sarvāstivāda-vinaya (Shisong lü) states: The Buddha was in the country of Śrāvastī. At that time, the elder Kālodāyin had attained the path of the arhat. Holding his bowl, he entered the city to beg for food. He arrived at the house of a certain brahman. The master of the house was not at home, and his wife had closed the gate to fry cakes. The bhikṣu Kālodāyin thereupon entered meditative absorption and manifested supernatural powers: disappearing into the earth from outside, he welled forth into the courtyard. He then snapped his fingers. The wife looked back and thought to herself: 'Where did this śramaṇa come from? He surely must have come because of a craving for cakes. I definitely will not give him any.' She then said to Udāyin: 'Even if your eyes fall out, I will still not give you any.' Thereupon, by his supernatural power, both his eyes immediately fell out. She thought again: 'Even if your eyes pop out as big as bowls, I will still not give you any.' His eyes immediately transformed to be as big as bowls. She thought again: 'Even if you stand upside down in front of me, I will still not give you any.' He immediately stood upside down in front of her. She thought again: 'Even if you die, I will still not give you any.' He immediately entered the absorption of the cessation of feeling and ideation (nirodha-samāpatti): his mental representations were entirely extinguished, and he was devoid of awareness. The brahman's wife tugged and pulled him, but could not move him. She was seized with great terror and thought: 'This śramaṇa often visits the palace of King Prasenajit and is the master of Queen Mallikā. If it is heard that he died in my house, we will suffer great disaster.' She then said to the bhikṣu: 'If you revive, I will give you a cake.' Kālodāyin thereupon emerged from absorption. The wife looked at the cakes: begrudging the well-fried ones made earlier, she would not give them. Scraping the edge of the basin, she obtained a small piece of dough; when she fried it, it turned out even better. Deciding to give him the earlier one instead, just as she lifted one cake, all the others stuck to it. Kālodāyin said to her: 'Sister, how many are you giving me?' She lifted four cakes intending to give them to him. Kālodāyin said to her: 'I do not need these cakes. You may give them to the saṃgha in Jetavana.' This woman had already planted good roots in past lives. She reflected to herself: 'This bhikṣu is truly not greedy for cakes; he has only come begging out of pity for me.' She then took the basket of cakes, went to Jetavana, and made the offering to the community of monks. Having done so, she sat before Kālodāyin. Kālodāyin, observing her causes and conditions, expounded the wondrous Dharma for her. Right on her seat, she attained the purity of the Dharma-eye and became an upāsikā. Returning home, she told her husband. Upon hearing it, the husband went to Kālodāyin. Kālodāyin expounded the wondrous Dharma for him, and he attained the purity of the Dharma-eye, becoming an upāsaka. He constantly exhausted his wealth and strength to make offerings to his ācārya, and even upon his death, he instructed his son to continue the offerings without interruption.

77.38

Furthermore, the Avadānaśataka (Baiyuan jing) states: The Buddha was in the Kalandaka Bamboo Grove at Rājagṛha. At that time, Maudgalyāyana saw a hungry ghost beneath a tree. Its body was like a charred pillar, its belly like a great mountain, its throat like a fine needle, and its hair like awls and knives, wrapping around and piercing its body. All its limbs and joints were blazing with fire. It was dying of thirst, its lips and mouth parched and burnt. Whenever it tried to go toward rivers or springs, they turned into dry wastelands. Even if heaven showered sweet rain, upon falling onto its body it all turned into fire. Maudgalyāyana asked about its karmic causes. The hungry ghost replied: 'I am so exhausted by thirst that I cannot answer. Ask the Buddha yourself.' Maudgalyāyana immediately went to the Buddha's presence and recounted the previous incident in full. He explained it in detail to the Buddha, [asking]: 'What karma did it create in the past to suffer this agony?' At that time, the World-Honoured One said to Maudgalyāyana: 'Listen carefully now; I shall analyze and explain it for you. In this Bhadrakalpa, in the country of Vārāṇasī, a Buddha appeared in the world named Kāśyapa. There was a śramaṇa traveling along the road who suffered severely from heat and thirst. At that time, there was a woman named Durgandhā (Evildoer / Bad View) drawing water beside a well. He went to beg water from her. The woman answered him: "May you die of thirst! I will never give you any, causing my water to decrease; you must not take it away." Thereupon, the śramaṇa, having obtained no water, resumed his journey on the road. That woman was persistently stingy and greedy; whenever any beggar came, she would never give anything. Afterwards, when her life ended, she fell among the hungry ghosts. Due to these karmic causes, she suffers such torment.' The Buddha said to Maudgalyāyana: 'Do you wish to know who the woman was who would not give water at that time? She was this very hungry ghost.' When the Buddha expounded the causes and conditions of this Durgandhā, the bhikṣus abandoned the karma of stinginess and greed; some attained the four fruits of the śramaṇa, while others gave rise to the aspiration for unsurpassed bodhi. Hearing what the Buddha had taught, they rejoiced and practiced accordingly.

First 38 of 52 passages. Read on

Linked texts (1)

法苑珠林 — 道世, Classical Chinese