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法苑珠林 95

English (machine translation) 95

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English

95.1

Compiled by the Śramaṇa Shi Daoshi of Ximing Temple

95.2

Section 95: The Suffering of Illness (Contains six parts)

95.3

1. Explanation of the Meaning
2. Citation of Authorities
3. Nursing the Sick
4. Medical Treatment
5. Settling and Accommodation
6. Collecting One's Thoughts

95.4

Part 1: Explanation of the Meaning

95.5

Now, the tridhātu is vast and expansive, and the six destinies flourish in profusion. None fail to rely on the mutual sustenance of the four great elements and the five sense faculties to constitute their physical form. When gathered, they make a body; when dispersed, they return to emptiness. However, wind and fire differ in nature, and earth and water are distinct in substance. Each according to its share seeks comfort and harmony. Since the principle of seeking comfort is difficult, the occurrence of disharmony is easy. If suddenly one great element falls out of harmony, all four great elements are impaired. If the earth element increases, the physical form becomes sallow and black; the flesh develops livid contusions, and abdominal masses congeal and aggregate like iron and stone. If the earth element declines, the four limbs become impaired and weak, or one loses half one's body, or suffers hemiplegia, lameness, and deformities, or has one's sight ruined and hearing lost. If the water element increases, the flesh becomes dropsical and swollen, the body devoid of radiance, the entire frame sallow and withered, the vitality of the countenance habitually vanished, the hands and feet dropsical and swollen, and the bladder tight and distended. If the water element severely declines, one emaciates to skin and bones, sinews show and pulses sink, lips and tongue dry up, ears and nose become parched and blocked, the five viscera burn within, bodily fluids exhaust without, and the six entrails deteriorate so that one cannot stand on one's own. If the fire element increases, the whole body suffers vexing heat, scorched as if burning; ulcers, carbuncles, abscesses, and swellings break out in purulent sores, with pus and blood overflowing and foul filth competing to abound. If the fire element severely declines, the four limbs become emaciated and frail, the viscera and entrails turn cold as ice, the chest and diaphragm congeal in chill, the mouth feels as though holding frost, heavy furs in summer heat bring no warmth or relief, food does not digest, and one habitually suffers nausea and vomiting. If the wind element increases, qi fills and obstructs the chest, the entrails and stomach suffer blockage and indigestion, the hands and feet become slack and weak, and the four limbs ache and go numb. If the wind element severely declines, the bodily form becomes emaciated and frail, breathing is thin as a thread, movement brings exhaustion, inhalation is labored like drawing rope, coughing, belching, and hiccuping cause tightness in the throat and tongue, the abdomen feels sunken and the back hunched, the heart feels frozen like ice, and the tendons of the neck and vessels of the throat throb and swell. Such various kinds are all caused by the four great elements abruptly increasing or decreasing, resulting in diseases. Once one great element becomes afflicted, the other three great elements all suffer; revolving in turn, all fall ill, together producing burning distress. The mutual discord of the four great elements is truly due to the retribution of suffering. Shameless and unconscionable, ungrateful and unjust, one constantly provides what it needs according to the four seasons, nourishing it day and night, yet it has never felt gratitude; if the slightest provision is neglected, it immediately incurs illness and suffering. Knowing that it has no gratitude, nurturing it is in vain. Even if provided with delicious foods and splendid garments, it ultimately becomes excrement and filth. One should only seek to sustain the body to avert hunger and cold, and never follow past habits of hoarding on its behalf, fatiguing one's mind and abandoning the pursuit of cultivating the Path. This is truly because the body is a vessel of suffering, and the aggregates are an unfired earthenware jar—easily broken and difficult to maintain. The four great elements are fleeting and vacuous, repeatedly clashing with one another; the five aggregates are conditionally produced and false, engendering many afflictions and worries. Therefore, receiving form in the human world, one encounters an age of defilement and turbidity; taking substance in a spurious body, one dwells in a realm of fear and dread. The unseen realm is limitless, with spirits and ghosts numerous as the sands of the Ganges, their kinds especially plentiful, beyond counting. Some rely on rooms or temples; some cling to mountains or mounds. All living beings reverently revere them, causing their spiritual consciousness to grow dim and dark, their discernment and thoughts confused and bewildered, so that waking and sleeping they suffer much dread. May they, in times of peril, collect their thoughts without waiting for three recitations; encountering safety amid danger, why labor over a thousand repetitions? May the spiritual realms increase their majestic light, benefiting living beings with goodness, and cease afflicting and harming one another. True words may be recorded, and faithful verifications indeed have proof.

95.6

Part 2: Citation of Authorities

95.7

As stated in the Medical Sūtra Spoken by the Buddha: 'In the human body there are originally four diseases: first, earth; second, water; third, fire; fourth, wind. When wind increases, qi arises; when fire increases, heat arises; when water increases, cold arises; when earth increases, strength flourishes. Originally, four hundred and four diseases arise from these four diseases. Thus earth belongs to the body, water belongs to the mouth, fire belongs to the eyes, and wind belongs to the ears. When fire is scarce and cold is excessive, the eyes become dim. In the first, second, and third months of spring, cold is excessive. In the fourth, fifth, and sixth months of summer, wind is excessive (in the Western regions, summer has much wind and milder heat, slightly different from the Han lands). In the seventh, eighth, and ninth months of autumn, heat is excessive (in the Western regions, during this autumn time heat just begins to flourish, which is also different from the Han lands). In the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth months of winter, there are both wind and cold. Why is it that cold is excessive in spring? Because all things are born and emerge through cold, cold is excessive. Why is it that wind is excessive in summer? Because all things flourish and yin and yang harmonize and gather, wind is excessive. Why is it that heat is excessive in autumn? Because all things ripen, heat is excessive. Why is it that there are both wind and cold in winter? Because all things end and perish, and heat departs, there are wind and cold. In the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh months, one may lie down to sleep. Why? Because wind is excessive, the body is relaxed. In the eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, first, and second months, outside the proper time one should not lie down. Why? Because cold is excessive, the body contracts. Because there is cold in the three months of spring, one must not eat barley or beans; one should eat coarse rice, ghee, and various warm foods (for in the Western regions barley is cold, while coarse rice and the like are warm). Because there is wind in the three months of summer, one must not eat taro, beans, or barley; one should eat coarse rice and curd. Because there is heat in the three months of autumn, one must not eat coarse rice or ghee; one should eat fine rice, roasted flour, honey, nonglutinous rice, and millet. Because there are wind and cold in the three months of winter, when yang rises and yin conjoins, one should eat coarse rice, broad bean soup, and ghee. Sometimes upon lying down wind arises, and sometimes it subsides; sometimes upon lying down fire arises, and sometimes it subsides; sometimes cold arises, and sometimes it subsides. There are ten conditions under which a person contracts illness: first, sitting long without lying down; second, eating without moderation; third, grief and worry; fourth, extreme fatigue; fifth, licentiousness; sixth, anger and hatred; seventh, holding back defecation; eighth, holding back urination; ninth, suppressing upward wind; tenth, suppressing downward wind. From these ten conditions, illness arises. There are nine conditions under which one who is not yet destined to end his life meets with untimely death.'

95.8

The Mahāprajñāpāramitā-śāstra also states: 'As for the four hundred and four diseases, the four great elements constitute the body and constantly harm one another. From each single great element, one hundred and one diseases arise. There are two hundred and two cold diseases, because water and wind arise. There are two hundred and two hot diseases, because earth and fire arise. Fire has the characteristic of heat; earth has the characteristic of solidity. Because it is solid, it is difficult to digest; because it is difficult to digest, it can give rise to hot diseases. Blood, flesh, sinews, bones, vessels, marrow, and the like are the division of earth. Except for their karmic retributions, all dharmas are produced by the combination of causes and conditions.'

95.9

Part 3: Nursing the Sick

95.10

Now, the four great elements are difficult to harmonize, and the six entrails turn against each other. Because one has a retributive body, one suddenly falls victim to disease and distress. Some renounce worldly life and go forth into homelessness, traveling alone and sleeping in solitude; some are poor, sick, old, and weak, without anyone to attend to them. If they do not look after one another, where can their lives be entrusted? Therefore, in the Dharmaguptaka-vinaya, the Buddha said: 'From this day forth, you must care for the sick and act as attendants to the sick. If you wish to make offerings to me, you should first make offerings to the sick.' Furthermore, when encountering sick monastic members of the five assemblies on the road, the Buddha instituted that all members of the seven assemblies must stay and nurse them. If they abandon them without caring for them, all incur an offense. Therefore, the mind of all Buddhas takes great compassion as its essence. Complying with my words is precisely the mind of the Buddha.

95.11

As the Mahāsāṃghika-vinaya states: 'If one encounters sick persons of the five monastic assemblies on the road, one should promptly look for carts or draft animals to convey them, make offerings to them in accordance with the Dharma, and even when they die, one should cremate and bury them, and must not abandon them. There are nine factors by which a sick person is bound to suffer untimely death: first, greedily eating food known to be unwholesome; second, not knowing how to measure moderation; third, eating before earlier food is digested; fourth, picking at the throat to vomit food before it is digested; fifth, forcefully holding back what is digested and should be expelled; sixth, food not according with the illness; seventh, eating food that accords with the illness but without moderation; eighth, indolence; ninth, lack of wisdom.'

95.12

The Ekottarika-āgama also states: 'At that time, the World-Honoured One addressed the monks: “If a caregiver of the sick possesses five qualities, the patient will not recover in due time, but will remain constantly bedridden. What are the five? First, the caregiver does not distinguish good medicine. Second, he is indolent and lacks vigorous zeal. Third, he is habitually prone to anger and fond of sleep. Fourth, he attends to the sick person only out of greed for clothing and food. Fifth, he does not make offerings according to the Dharma, nor does he converse back and forth with the sick person. These are the five qualities possessed by a caregiver under which the patient cannot recover in due time.” (Reversing these five qualities, the illness quickly heals.)' Furthermore, in the Jātaka-sūtra, the World-Honoured One praised in verse:

95.13

"People should care for the sick,
And inquire after those in distress and peril.
Good and evil have their retribution,
Just as planting fruit yields harvest.
The World-Honoured One is the father,
The scriptural Dharma is the mother,
And fellow practitioners are brothers;
By virtue of these, one attains liberation."

95.14

Furthermore, the Sūtra on the Original Vow Asked by Maitreya states: The Buddha said to Ānanda: "In the past, when I was seeking the Path, it was through countless hardships and suffering that I was finally able to attain Buddhahood; the incidents were not just one." The Buddha said: "Ānanda, in the distant past there was a prince named Suoxian ('Manifested'), who was upright and handsome. Coming forth from his garden pavilion, on the road he saw a man afflicted with a grave and critical illness. Having seen him, he felt grief and pity in his heart, and asked the sick man, 'With what kind of medicine can your illness be cured?' The sick man replied, 'Only the blood of the king's body can cure my illness.' At that time, the prince thereupon took a sharp knife, pierced his own body to draw blood, and gave it to the sick man, giving it with a sincere mind without any regret. The prince at that time was my very person. The water of the four great oceans could still be measured by the peck, but the blood given from my body cannot be weighed or limited. Again, in the distant past there was a prince named King of the Lotus, who was upright and handsome. Coming forth from his garden pavilion, on the road he saw a man whose body was afflicted with leprosy. Having seen him, he pitied him and asked the sick man, 'With what medicine can your illness be cured?' The sick man replied, 'If I obtain the marrow from the king's body to smear upon my body, then the illness will be cured.' At this time the prince immediately broke the bones of his body to obtain the marrow, took it and gave it to the sick man, bestowing it with joy and without any regret in his heart. The prince at that time was my very person. The water of the four great oceans could still be measured by the peck, but the giving of my body's marrow cannot be reckoned or calculated."

95.15

"Again, in the past there was a king named Candradīpa (Moon Brightness), who was upright and handsome. Coming forth from his palace, on the road he saw a blind man, impoverished, starving, and begging along the road, who came toward where the king was. At that time, King Candradīpa, seeing this blind man, felt pity for him and wept tears, asking the blind man, 'What kind of medicine can cure your illness?' The blind man replied, 'Only if I obtain the king's eyes will my illness be cured and my eyes able to see.' At this time, King Candradīpa personally took out both of his eyes and gave them to the blind man, his mind serene without a single thought of regret. King Candradīpa at that time was my very person. Mount Sumeru can still be weighed to know its catty and ounces, but the eyes I gave cannot be reckoned or calculated."

95.16

The Buddha said to Ānanda: "When the Bodhisattva Maitreya originally sought the Path, he did not give up his ears, nose, body, and life to attain the Buddha Path; but solely by skillful means and the practice of ease and joy, he attained that unsurpassed, true, and correct Path." Ānanda addressed the Buddha: "By what skillful means was he able to attain the Buddha Path?" The Buddha told Ānanda: "The Bodhisattva Maitreya, three times by day and three times by night, would adjust his robes, compose his body, clasp his hands, lower his knees to the ground, and facing the Buddhas of the ten directions, speak this verse:

95.17

'I repent all my faults, / And encourage and assist all moral virtues; / I take refuge in and bow to all Buddhas, / That I may attain unsurpassed wisdom.'"

95.18

Furthermore, the Sūtra of Avadāna on the Dharmapada states: In the past there was a country named Śāketa (Xieti). At that time there was an elder bhikṣu who had long been sick, exhausted, emaciated, and filthy, lying in the Śāketa monastery with no one attending to him. The Buddha led five hundred bhikṣus to go to his place, and had the bhikṣus take turns to tend to him and make broth and gruel for him. But the bhikṣus smelled his foulness and all despised him. The Buddha had Śakra take hot water, and the Buddha washed the sick bhikṣu's body with his adamantine hands. The earth immediately shook, and there was suddenly a great radiance; none were not astonished and awed. The king of the country, his ministers and people, heavenly dragons, and ghosts and spirits, countless people, went to the Buddha's place, bowed their heads in obeisance, and said to the Buddha: "The Buddha is the World-Honoured One, peerless in the three realms, his moral power fully perfected. Why do you deign to bend your will to wash a sick bhikṣu?" The Buddha told the king and the great assembly: "The reason why the Tathāgata appears in the world is precisely for these destitute, distressed, and helpless ones. If one provides for sick and emaciated śramaṇas and practitioners, as well as the poor, solitary, and elderly, the merit is boundless, what is wished for will be fulfilled, and one will certainly attain the Path." The king addressed the Buddha: "What past sin did this bhikṣu commit, such that he has been afflicted for years on end and medical treatment does not cure him?" The Buddha told the king: "In the past there was a king named Wicked Conduct (Durgati), whose rule was severe and cruel. He employed a man of great strength, a commander of five hundred, to whip people. The commander of five hundred made use of the king's awe and wrath to privately bring about cold or warmth (severity or leniency). If he was about to whip someone, they would bring him a price. For those who gave goods, the whipping was light; for those who did not, the whipping was heavy. The whole country suffered from him. There was a worthy man who was plotted against by others and was due to receive a whipping. He told the commander of five hundred, 'I am a disciple of the Buddha; I am usually without fault and have been wronged by others. I pray you show a little mercy.' The commander of five hundred, hearing that he was a disciple of the Buddha, whipped lightly, not letting it touch the body. When the life of the commander of five hundred ended, he fell into hell, where he was tortured with ten thousand poisons. When his penalty was exhausted, he came out again and fell among animals, where he was constantly beaten with staves. For more than five hundred lifetimes, when his penalties were finished, he became a human, but he was always afflicted with grave illnesses and pains that never left his body. The king at that time is now Devadatta; the commander of five hundred is now this sick bhikṣu; the worthy man at that time is now myself. Because in a past life he spared me the whip and did not let it touch my body, therefore the World-Honoured One personally washes him. When a person performs good or evil, calamity or blessing follows the person; though one traverses births and deaths, one cannot escape it." Thereupon the World-Honoured One spoke a verse:

95.19

"Beating the good with a stave, / Falsely slandering the innocent: / The calamity is tenfold, / Disaster swift and unpardoned. / In life one suffers excruciating agony, / The physical body breaks and cracks, / Naturally bringing about agonizing illness; / One's mind is lost and in a daze, / Derided and mocked by others; / Or one suffers disaster from the authorities, / Wealth and property are utterly exhausted, / Relatives are separated, / And all that is in one's house / Is incinerated by catastrophic fire; / Upon death, one enters hell: / Such are the ten."

95.20

At that time, the sick bhikṣu, hearing this verse from the Buddha and the matters of his past lives, blamed himself intensely in his mind; his afflictions were cured and he attained the state of an arhat. The king of Śāketa practiced it with all his life and attained the state of a srotāpanna.

95.21

Furthermore, the Upāsaka-śīla-sūtra states: One who attends the sick should not give rise to disgust. If one does not have goods oneself, one should go outside to seek them. If they cannot be obtained, one may borrow property of the Three Jewels to care for him; once he is cured, one must repay it tenfold. The Five Hundred Questions states: If a caretaker uses the sick person's property to supply the sick person's needs, without asking the sick person, or if asking causes resentment, in neither case may it be used. If it has already been taken, it should be repaid; not repaying it constitutes a grave offence. Furthermore, the Dharmaguptaka-vinaya states: In caring for the sick one attains five merits: first, knowing what food is suitable and what is not for the sick person, and giving it when suitable; second, not loathing or despising the sick person's urine, excrement, and spittle; third, having a mind of compassion and not caring for him for the sake of clothing and food; fourth, being able to manage medicines and broths, until he is cured or his life ends; fifth, being able to preach the Dharma to the sick person to make him rejoice, so that one's own good dharmas increase.

95.22

Section 4: Medicine

95.23

Now, human beings possess four limbs and five viscera. They alternately wake and sleep, breathing out and breathing in, while the essential qi circulates, flowing to form the nutritive and defensive systems, manifesting as complexion, and expressing as voice: this is the normal pattern of humans. Yang employs its essence, and Yin employs its form: this is what Heaven and humans share. When it falls into disorder: if suppressed, heat is generated; if obstructed, cold is generated; when knotted, it becomes swellings and polyps; when sunken, it becomes deep sores and carbuncles; when racing, it causes palpitations and anxiety; when exhausted, it causes dryness and withering. Good physicians guide it with acupuncture and stone needles and rescue it with medicines; the sages harmonize it with supreme virtue and assist it with human affairs. Therefore, the body has illnesses that can be cured, and heaven and earth have calamities that can be dispersed.

95.24

As the Ekottarika-āgama states: At that time the World-Honoured One told the bhikṣus: "There are three great afflictions. What are the three? First, wind is a great affliction; second, phlegm is a great affliction; third, cold is a great affliction. Yet there are three good medicines to treat them: for wind afflictions, ghee is a good medicine, as well as food made with ghee; for phlegm afflictions, honey is a good medicine, as well as food made with honey; for cold afflictions, oil is a good medicine, as well as food made with oil. These are called the three great afflictions, and they have these three medicines to treat them. In the same way, bhikṣus also have three great afflictions: first, lust; second, anger; third, delusion. Yet there are three good medicines to treat them: first, when lust arises, treat it with impurity, and contemplate the path of impurity; second, for the great affliction of anger, treat it with loving-kindness, and contemplate the path of loving-kindness; third, for the great affliction of delusion, treat it with wisdom, and contemplate the path of conditioned arising. These are called the three great afflictions of bhikṣus, and they have these three medicines to treat them."

95.25

Furthermore, the Suvarṇaprabhāsa-sūtra states: When the Buddha was in the world, there was an elder named Jaladhara (Holding Water), who was skilled in medicine and rescued people from various diseases and suffering. The elder Jaladhara had a son named Jalavāhana (Flowing Water), who was foremost in handsomeness, fully endowed with majestic virtue, naturally bright and keen, and well versed in various treatises. Seeing all sentient beings suffering various afflictions, the elder's son went to his father and spoke a verse to ask:

95.26

"How should one know / The four great elements and all the sense organs / Waning, damaged, decaying, and exhausted, / Whereby various diseases arise? / How should one know / The timing and measures of food and drink, / So that after one eats food, / The body's fire is not extinguished? / How should one know / The treatments for wind and heat, / Excess of water and lung diseases, / As well as the balanced condition? / When does wind stir? / When does heat stir? / When does water stir, / To harm sentient beings?" / Then the father, the elder, / Immediately through verses / Explained the medical methods / To answer his son: / "Three months are summer, / Three months are autumn, / Three months are winter, / Three months are spring: / These twelve months / Are spoken of by threes. / From such a calculation / There are four seasons in a year; / If spoken of by twos, / They fill out six seasons. / The groups of three originally subsume them, / The groups of two show the seasons. / In accordance with these seasons, / Regulating food and drink / Can benefit the body. / As medical treatises state, / In accordance with the seasons of the year, / The faculties and four great elements / Alternate, increase, and decrease, / Causing the body to fall ill. / A good physician / Accords with the four seasons, / Nurturing across the three months, / Harmonizing the six elements, / Providing food and drink according to illness, / As well as broths and medicines. / Those with many wind diseases / Have them flare up in summer; / Those with heat diseases / Have them flare up in autumn; / Those with balanced illnesses / Have them flare up in winter; / Those with lung diseases / Become more severe in spring. / Those with wind diseases / Should take in summer / Rich, oily, salty, and sour [foods], / Along with hot foods; / Those with heat diseases / Take cool and sweet in autumn; / For balanced illnesses, in winter take / Sweet, sour, rich, and oily; / For lung diseases, in spring take / Rich, oily, pungent, and hot. / After eating to fullness, / Lung disease is then triggered; / When food is being digested, / Heat disease is then triggered; / After food has been digested, / Wind disease is then triggered. / Thus the four great elements / Flare up according to the three periods. / For one weakened by wind disease, / Tonify with ghee and fats; / For heat disease, as a purgative / Take harītakī; / For balanced disease, one should take / Three kinds of wondrous medicines, / Namely sweet, pungent, / Along with ghee and fats; / For lung disease, one should take / An emetic according to the season. / If wind-heat diseases, / Lung diseases, and balanced diseases / Flare up out of season, / One should rely on a master / To calculate according to the illness / The food, drink, broths, and medicines."

95.27

Furthermore, the Mahāprajñāpāramitā-śāstra states: Prajñāpāramitā can eliminate the root of the eighty-four thousand diseases. These eighty-four thousand all arise from four illnesses: first, greed; second, anger; third, delusion; fourth, the equal balance of the three poisons. These four illnesses each divide into twenty-one thousand. Through the contemplation of impurity, one eliminates the twenty-one thousand defilements of greed. Through the contemplation of loving-kindness and compassion, one eliminates the twenty-one thousand defilements of anger. Through the contemplation of dependent origination, one eliminates the twenty-one thousand defilements of delusion. By comprehensively using the above medicines, one eliminates the twenty-one thousand defilements of the balanced illness. Just as a precious jewel can dispel darkness, prajñāpāramitā can likewise eliminate the diseases of the defilements of the three poisons.

95.28

Section 5: Relocation

95.29

Now, we have heard that the house of the three realms is truly a vessel of the four great elements; the sphere of the six sense-objects is what the five aggregates inhabit. It is precisely because false imaginings are vainly constructed and confusion and inversion arise in succession that myriad sufferings compete to entangle and a hundred worries gather all together. Now, since retribution has matured and life is like a candle before the wind, yet sentient beings cling covetously and remain unaware unto death, fearing that in their accustomed place they will long for their wealth and resources and become attached to their relatives, the Buddha's teaching requires them to be moved to another place to give rise to weariness and renunciation, and to know that impermanence is about to arrive, causing them to generate a mind of right mindfulness.

95.30

As the Mahāsāṃghika-vinaya states: 'If a sick person is a person of great virtue, they should be placed in an open, visible, and high-quality room so that monastics and laypeople coming to pay their respects and inquire after them may produce wholesome roots. Those caring for the sick must constantly burn incense, light lamps, smear the floor with fragrant liquid, and receive visitors.' According to the illustration of Jetavana Temple in the Western Regions: 'The northwest corner of the monastery, where the sunlight sets, is the Hall of Impermanence (Anitya-kūṭī). If there are sick people, they are placed within it. Because the hall is named Impermanence, many give rise to aversion [to worldly existence]; those who leave it [by death] are extremely numerous, while those who return [recovered] are only one or two. Inside the hall is set a standing image painted in gold, facing east. The patient should be placed seated before the image. If they lack the strength, let the patient lie down facing west, contemplating the physical marks and signs of the Buddha. In the hand of the image is tied a five-colored silk streamer; the patient is made to hold the end of the streamer with their hand, intending to be reborn in the Pure Land. Even if they discharge feces and urine at their seat, the World-Honoured One does not consider it defiled.' Considering that this world is originally an impure and defiled place, yet [the Buddha] still descends in spirit to receive and reach down to the lower classes of sentient beings, how much more so now, when one is committing one's life to the Buddha—would he ever abandon them? In accordance with whichever realm the patient delights in, an image of Amitābha, Maitreya, Akṣobhya, Avalokiteśvara, or the like may be made and arranged as described above. Burning incense and scattering flowers, offerings should continue without interruption, giving rise to wholesome thoughts in the sick person.

95.31

Section 6: Gathering Thoughts

95.32

Now, the tridhātu does not exist, and the five skandhas are all non-existent. The four inverted views and the ten fetters harmonize and combine together. Everything is like lightning; ten thousand kalpas pass in an instant. The well on the hill is easy to fall into, and one ultimately drifts and sinks in the ocean of suffering. The straying path becomes ever more distant; lost in youthful folly, one forgets to return. Trivial is this seven-foot body, yet none recognize its illusory nature. Beyond what ears and eyes perceive, it is ultimately empty talk. With nothing to rely upon and none to rescue, neither believing nor accepting, once a living being's life ceases, there is no hope of return. Therefore, one should examine one's mind with self-compassion, and remain serene and peaceful when facing mortal danger.

95.33

Therefore, the Sarvāstivāda-vinaya states: 'One who attends to a sick person should offer praise in accordance with what the sick person previously studied and practiced; they must not slander or criticize, causing the original wholesome mind to regress.'

95.34

Furthermore, the Dharmaguptaka-vinaya states: 'Preach the Dharma for the sick person to cause them to rejoice.'

95.35

Furthermore, the Vinayamātṛkā-śāstra states: 'If the sick person does not heed the words of the caretaker, or if the caretaker goes against the wishes of the sick person, both incur an offense.' Furthermore, the Avataṃsaka-sūtra contains a verse spoken for a sick person at the time of death:

95.36

'He also emits a radiant light named "Seeing the Buddha";
That light awakens those whose lives are ending.
Through the Buddha-mindfulness samādhi they will surely see the Buddha,
And after life ends, they are born before the Buddha.
Thinking of them at death's door, one encourages wholesome mindfulness,
And shows them the venerable image, causing them to gaze upon it with reverence;
Furthermore, one encourages them to take refuge in the Buddha,
And for this reason they are able to behold the Buddha's light.'

95.37

The Sukhāvatīvyūhopadeśa states: 'If a good man or good woman cultivates the fulfillment of the five gates of mindfulness, they will ultimately attain birth in the Land of Peace and Bliss, and behold that Amitābha Buddha. What are the five? The first is paying homage; the second is praising; the third is making vows; the fourth is contemplation; the fifth is dedication of merit.' Furthermore, the Suiyuan wangsheng jing states: 'The Buddha told the Bodhisattva Puguang: "If men and women among the four classes of disciples, on the day of their death, wish to be born in the Buddha-lands of the ten directions, they should first wash and bathe their bodies, put on clean and pure robes, burn various famous incenses, hang silk banners and canopies, sing praises to the Three Jewels, and recite the venerable sūtras. For the sick person, one should speak of karmic conditions, parables, skillful expressions, and the subtle and wonderful meanings of the sūtras: suffering, emptiness, and non-substantiality; that the four great elements are a temporary combination; that the physical form is like a plantain tree, with nothing solid inside; and that it is like a flash of lightning, unable to remain long. Therefore it is said that physical form is not fresh for long and must inevitably decay and disintegrate. By practicing the Way with utmost sincerity, one can cross over suffering; whatever one's heart aspires to, there is none that will not bear fruit."'

95.38

Commentary: Having instructed them as above, one should then bring sūtras and images to the sick person's place, announce the titles of the sūtras and the names of the images, and show them to the patient, causing them to open their eyes and behold them, bringing them to awakening. Moreover, invite virtuous and wise persons to recite the Mahāyāna, assisting in chanting pāṭha. Banners and flowers should fall in profusion, swirling before their eyes; fragrant scent should waft abundantly, constantly pouring into the olfactory faculty. Always speak wholesome words to them, and do not convey bad news. Because at the time of death, many signs of evil karma manifest and one is unable to resolve to dispel them, those who attend to the sick must especially use skillful means to guide and entice them, causing thought after thought to be continuous without stopping for an instant. Riding upon this power of merit, they should form the intention of attaining birth in the Pure Land. Therefore the Mahāprajñāpāramitā-śāstra states: 'If one performs good deeds throughout life, but harbors an evil thought at the point of death, one will be born in an evil destination; if one performs evil deeds throughout life, but harbors a wholesome thought at the point of death, one will be born in heaven.' Furthermore, the Vimalakīrtinirdeśa states: 'Recall the merit cultivated and be mindful of a pure livelihood.'

95.39

Furthermore, the Saddharmasmṛtyupasthāna-sūtra states: 'If there are sentient beings who uphold the precepts and, without seeking favors or becoming weary and tired, provide offerings to a sick person who has broken the precepts, when their life ends they will be born in the Heaven of Universal Contemplation, indulging in the five desires without satiety.' And it is said in verse:

95.40

Purple fine silk cannot yet be obtained;
Beside the Zhang river, departures are in vain.
Once one encounters this dog-and-horse sickness,
Even Meng Ben and Xia Yu cease their dashing pace.
Having neither the nine-turn alchemical art,
Nor possessing miraculous medicines worth ten thousand gold,
Not touching the hands that offer water for washing,
One only dreams of the lotus pond.

95.41

Circumstances of Sympathetic Resonance (briefly citing fourteen verifications)

95.42

Ou, Assistant Officer of the Consultative Section of Jin
Yuan Wuji of Jin
Kang Falang of Jin
An Huize of Jin
Zhu Fayi of Jin
Lady Fei, Wife of Luo Yu of Song
Wang Wenming of Song
Li Qing of Song
Shi Tanying of Song
Wang Changyu of Wei
Shi Huijin of Qi
Shi Sengxi of Sui
Sagu Xun of Tang
Shi Master Che of Tang

95.43

During the Jin dynasty, an Assistant Officer of the Consultative Section in Nanjun surnamed Ou fell ill for over a year, his flesh wasting away to bone. Sorcerers and doctors were exhausted, with no further methods or remedies. His son fell into a light sleep at night and dreamed of several śramaṇas coming to look at his father. The next morning, he went to a Buddhist stūpa-monastery and saw various śramaṇas. He asked what kind of spirit the Buddha was, and the śramaṇas explained the matter to him. He then brought the religious men back and requested them to recite sūtras. After two nights, the patient felt his illness lighten. During the day, he took a brief nap and seemed to lift his head to see dozens of small children at the doorway, all in five-colored clothes; some held banners and staffs, and some held knives and spears, rushing in through the doorway. Two children in front went straight to the curtain, but suddenly ran back and said to the crowd behind: 'Wait a moment, wait a moment! The room is completely filled with men of the Way!' Thereupon they did not come forward again. From this time on, the illness gradually improved. (This verification is from the Linggui zhi.)

95.44

Yuan Wuji of the Chen commandery under the Jin resided in Dongping. At the beginning of the Yongjia era (307–313), he contracted an epidemic pestilence. More than a hundred people in his household nearly all died. To escape, they left the large mansion and temporarily stayed in a farm cottage. There was a small room where the brothers slept together on a wooden bed with several layers of mats. Sleeping into the night, when dawn broke, the bed was found outside the door. This happened night after night. The brothers were bewildered and frightened, and none could sleep. Later, they saw a woman coming before the door; knowing that Wuji and the others were not asleep, she paced back and forth outside the door. It was not yet dawn, and the moon was bright enough to see her. She was dressed in colorful robes and white cosmetics, and on her head were floral hairpins, a silver hairpin, and an ivory comb. Wuji and the others chased her. At first she ran around the house, tumbling about, and her hair and the floral hairpins and other items all fell off. Wuji picked them all up. She then ran out the door to the south. Beside the road was a well, and she plunged into it. Wuji returned to sleep. At dawn, looking at the floral hairpins, the hairpin, and the ivory comb, they were all real objects. Digging up the dilapidated well, they found a catalpa coffin, two-thirds submerged in the well water. Wuji changed the coffin, vessels, and clothes, returned her belongings, and buried her in a high and dry place, after which the disturbance ceased. (This verification is from the Zhiguai ji.)

95.45

During the Jin, the śramaṇa Kang Falang studied in Zhongshan. During the Yongjia era, he and a bhikṣu traveled west into India. Crossing the shifting sands for over a thousand li, they saw a ruined Buddhist stūpa by the road, with no remaining halls, overgrown with weeds taller than a man. Falang and his companion went down to pay homage. They saw two monks, each residing on one side: one was reading sūtras, while the other was suffering from dysentery, his room filled with filth. The one reading sūtras paid no attention at all. Falang and his companion felt deep compassion; they stayed behind to cook congee, sweep, and wash for him. On the sixth day, the sick monk grew increasingly exhausted, with dysentery pouring like a spring. Falang and his companion attended to him together. That night, Falang and the others thought the patient would surely not survive till dawn. When they went to check the next morning, his complexion was radiant and joyful, and the symptoms of pain were completely gone. The filth in the room had all turned into fragrant flowers. Falang and his companion then realized he was an accomplished being of the Way who was testing people. The sick monk said: 'The bhikṣu in the adjoining room is my upādhyāya; he long ago attained the wisdom of the Way. You may go pay respects to him.' Falang and his companion had previously resented the sūtra-reading śramaṇa for lacking loving-kindness; hearing this, they bowed and repented their fault. The sūtra-reader said: 'Your sincere resolve has arrived together; you are both destined to enter the Way. Master Lang, your past learning is shallow in karmic roots; you will not attain your vow in this life.' Addressing Falang's companion, he said: 'Hui, your roots are deeply planted; you will attain your vow in this very life.' He therefore retained him. Falang later returned to Zhongshan and became a great Dharma master, revered by both monastics and laypeople. (This verification is from the Mingxiang ji.)

95.46

During the Jin, at the Dashi Temple in Luoyang, there was An Huize. His family lineage is unknown. In his youth, he had no fixed conventional temperament, standing out as an extraordinary man. He was skilled in regular script and was an eloquent speaker. During the Yongjia era of the Jin, a pestilence struck the realm. Ze prayed sincerely day and night, wishing for a great spirit to send down medicine to heal the myriad people. One day, going out the temple gate, he saw two stones shaped like vats. Ze suspected they were extraordinary objects; taking and inspecting them, they indeed contained divine water inside. Sick people who drank it were without exception cured. Later, he resided at Dashi Temple in Luoyang, writing out by hand in fine script one copy of the Large Perfection of Wisdom Sūtra on yellow silk, combining it into a single roll. The characters were like small beans, yet distinct and legible. He made more than ten copies in all. He gave one copy to the wife of Zhou Zhongzhi of Runan, Lady Hu, to make offerings to. When Hu's mother crossed the Yangtze River, she brought the sūtra along with her. Later, it was caught in an accidental fire. In the haste, she had no time to retrieve the sūtra, and she wept in sorrow and distress. After the fire died down, she found it amid the ashes; the roller and fabric's color were not damaged in the slightest. At that time, of those who witnessed or heard of it, none failed to turn away from heterodoxy and change to faith. This sūtra is now held by the nun Jingshou at Jianjing Temple in the capital. (This verification is from the Liang Gaoseng zhuan.)

95.47

During the Jin, the śramaṇa Zhu Fayi lived as a hermit in the mountains and loved learning, dwelling at Baoshan in Shining. Later, he contracted an illness that lasted for a long time. Every medical treatment was exhausted, yet there was no improvement at all. As his condition grew increasingly severe day by day, he ceased to treat himself, and solely placed his sincere devotion in Avalokiteśvara. After several days like this, while sleeping during the daytime, he dreamed of a religious man coming to examine his illness and thereupon treating it for him. He cut open his intestines and stomach, washing out the viscera, and saw an accumulation of extremely large quantities of impure substances. Having finished washing them, he put them back inside and said to Yi: 'Your illness has been eliminated.' Waking from the sleep, his ailments were completely cleared away, and he soon returned to normal. Consulting the sūtra, it says that he 'may manifest in the form of a śramaṇa or a brāhmaṇa'—in one's thoughts, was not Master Yi's dream indeed this? Yi passed away in the seventh year of the Taiyuan era (382). The six stories from Zhu Changshu to Yi were all compiled by Fu Liang, President of the Department of State Affairs under the Song. Liang himself stated that his late father had associated with Yi, and whenever Yi related this matter, he always felt an increased awe and reverence.

95.48

Lady Fei, the wife of Luo Yu of the Song dynasty, was a native of Ningshu. Her father, Yue, was the Regional Inspector of Ningzhou under the Song. From youth, Fei was reverent and faithful; she recited the Lotus Sūtra for several years, diligent and tireless. Later, she suddenly fell ill with intense pain in her heart, hanging on to life. The whole family was terrified; they placed a silk thread [under her nose to test for breath] and awaited her moment of death. Lady Fei thought in her heart: 'I have recited the sūtra with diligence and toil; there ought to be wholesome protection. I hope I will not reach death from this.' Soon, while lying asleep for the time of a meal, in a state between waking and dreaming, she saw the Buddha extend his hand through the window and rub her heart. Immediately, she was completely cured. The whole household—men, women, and servants—all beheld a golden light and also smelled a fragrant scent. Yu's female cousin was the maternal great-grandmother of Yan, the wife of Fei Yin, Director in the Bureau of War of the Department of State Affairs. At that time, visiting the sickbed, she also fully heard and saw it. Thereupon she gave rise to great faith and awakening, reverently observing the precepts until the end of her life, and always used this auspicious omen to inspire and transform her sons and nephews.

95.49

During the Song dynasty, Wang Wenming served as the Magistrate of Jiang'an towards the end of the Taishe era. His wife had been ill for a long time. When her daughter was outside cooking gruel for her mother, just as it was about to be cooked, it turned into blood. She discarded it and made more, but it happened just as before; this occurred twice. Soon afterwards, the mother passed away. Later, when the sons and daughters were weeping before her soul tablet, they suddenly saw their mother lying on the bier, looking just as she did in life; as the children cried out in sorrow, she abruptly vanished. Earlier, Wenming had favored his wife's personal maidservant, who was pregnant and about to give birth. On the day of his wife's burial, he had the maidservant guard the house while all the others went to the tomb site. Just as the procession set out, the wife manifested her form, entered through the door, and beat the maidservant. Later, when the daughters were preparing food for their father, they killed a chicken; after they had finished gutting and washing it, the chicken suddenly sprang up, raised its head, and crowed loudly. Soon afterwards, Wenming died, and his sons passed away one after another. (The preceding three verifications are from the Shuyi ji.)

95.50

During the Song dynasty, Li Qing was a native of Yuqian in Wuxing. He served as an adjutant supervisor (canjun duhu) in the Grand Marshal Huan Wen's headquarters. Falling ill at the headquarters, he returned home and died. After passing the night, he revived and related: At first, he saw a messenger holding an authorization banner who summoned him, saying, "His Lordship wishes to see you." Qing thought Huan Wen was calling him, so he arose, fastened his sash, and went. Stepping outside the gate, he saw a bamboo litter and was instructed to step inside. Two men pushed it as swiftly as if galloping. They arrived at a vermilion gate, where he saw Ruan Jing. At that time, Jing had already been dead for thirty years. Jing asked Qing, "When did you come? Do you know what my family is like now?" Qing said, "Your family is extremely miserable." Jing wept like rain and said, "Do you know how my sons and grandsons are doing?" Qing answered, "They are barely getting by." [Jing] said, "I can now enable you to escape; can you look after my family?" Qing said, "I can; if you can do this, I will not be ungrateful for such great kindness." Jing said, "The monk Sengda is the master of this official [station] and is treated with extreme reverence. I will earnestly plead with him." He returned inside, and after a long while sent someone out to say, "The four-storied monastery in front of the gate was built by the official. Sengda always enters the monastery at dawn to perform worship; you should go and beg for mercy from him." Qing went to the monastery and saw a śramaṇa, who said to him, "You were my disciple seven lifetimes ago. You have already enjoyed blessings for seven lifetimes, but being deludedly attached to worldly pleasures, you forgot your fundamental practice; turning your back on the right to follow the deviant, you were due to receive great retribution. Now you can repent and reform. When the Upādhyāya comes out tomorrow, he will help you." Qing returned to the former litter; in the night it was bitterly cold, and he shivered with his teeth chattering. When dawn arrived and the gate opened, Sengda indeed came out to the monastery. Qing immediately followed him and kowtowed. Sengda said, "You must reform your mind to do good, taking refuge in the Buddha, taking refuge in the Dharma, and taking refuge in the Saṃgha of bhikṣus. Receiving these Three Refuges will keep you from an untimely death. If you accept and maintain them diligently, you will also not undergo suffering and hardship." Qing then received them respectfully. He also saw the śramaṇa he had met the previous day kneel reverently and request: "This person was a former disciple among the Saṃgha. Having forgotten the true Dharma, he was just about to undergo suffering. Because of his former affinities, he has now attained refuge. May you grant your compassionate pity." [Sengda] replied, "Since he was originally a person of good fortune, it should be easy to rescue and help him." [Qing] then returned toward the vermilion gate. Soon, someone was sent out to say, "Adjutant Li may depart." At that time, Jing also came out and gave Qing a green bamboo branch, instructing him to close his eyes and mount it as a horse. Qing did as he said, and suddenly arrived home. Inside his house, his weeping family and relatives filled the hall; he wished to enter but could not. It coincided with the return of those who had bought timber for the coffin; the family members and guests rushed to look at it, leaving only the corpse on the ground. Qing entered and approached the corpse; smelling the stench of the corpse, he regretted coming back. But as the people outside jostled and pushed, he entered the corpse without realizing it. Thereupon, he revived. He immediately took care of Jing's family, dividing his residence to lodge them. Thereupon, he turned his heart to the Three Jewels, diligently having faith in the teachings of the Dharma, and ultimately became an outstanding disciple. (The preceding verification is from the Mingxiang ji.)

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