諸經要集 4

English (machine translation) 4

Language: English

4.1

Compiled by the Śramaṇa Shi Daoshi of Ximing Monastery

4.2

Section Four: Entering the Path (containing four topics)

4.3

Section Five: Hymns and Praises
Section Six: Incense and Lamps

4.4

Topic on Stating the Intent
Topic on Rejoicing and Aversion
Topic on Leaving the Household
Topic on Citing Proofs

I venture that conditioned arising is nominal existence, where the roots of sentient beings stagnate; phenomena are originally unproduced, which is the wonderful truth of the ultimate person. Therefore, in the three realms and six destinies, beings create karmic obstacles and delude themselves; through the eight liberations and ten knowledges, the noble ones take refuge in the ultimate principle and become empty and open. For this reason, the Great Master of Capable Benevolence (Śākyamuni) disseminated teachings according to conditions: pitying that the burning house was already on fire, lamenting that the river of desire was perpetually shrouded in mist. Entrusting himself to the Pure White Palace, he displayed a golden-colored body. Dwelling amid these three delusions, he revealed that the painted box is not real; passing out through those four gates, he wearied of the floating clouds that so easily vanish. Sighing to himself that human generations drift away fleetingly like this, the Heavenly Kings then held aloft his white horse as he leaped over the city wall, and his attendant took his jeweled crown and presented it at the palace. Casting off his shoes to seek the truth—such was his departure. Even if we consider Xiao Shi of the Qin era or Zijin of the Zhou, Xu You washing his ears at Mount Ji, or Zhuang Zhou dragging his tail in the Pu River—when compared to this renunciation of the secular world, how insignificant they are! Thus he caused those who admire his virtue to cut off evil and establish themselves, and those who revere his style to purify themselves and cultivate good. Disfiguring the body to accomplish the resolve, they discard the fine appearance of beard and hair; changing secular ways to unite with the Path, they cast off the splendid garments of a wheel-turning king. Though their outward form neglects serving their parents, inwardly they cherish filial piety; though their ritual manners depart from serving their lord, their hearts hold his grace. Their beneficence covers both foes and kin, fulfilling great compliance; their blessings shower both the hidden and the manifest, so how could they be restricted by minor infractions? People of superior wisdom gain benefit because they rely on the Buddha's words; the base and ordinary suffer harm because they breach the sacred teaching. When evil is chastised, the corrupt renew themselves; when good is advanced, discerning persons are moved and transformed. Thus, the hermits' forest was where he first cast off his hairpin, and the river of dhyāna where the traces of his austerities arose. In the pure waters he bathed his golden body; beneath the auspicious tree of the bodhimaṇḍa he sat. For food he relied on the offered porridge; for a seat he made do with strewn grass. Thereupon, the ten powers and knowledges were perfected, the six supernormal knowledges and miraculous bases fulfilled; the demon armies were swept away, and the Path of the Great Awakening was accomplished.

4.7

Topic Two: Rejoicing and Aversion

4.8

As the Mañjuśrīparipṛcchā-sūtra says: The Buddha told Mañjuśrī, "None of the various merits equal the aspiration to leave the household. Why is this? Because living at home involves immeasurable faults and perils, while leaving the household brings immeasurable merit. Living at home has obstacles; leaving the household is without obstacles. Living at home is a place of defilement; leaving the household is a place free of defilement. Living at home drowns in the mire of desire; leaving the household emerges from the mire of desire. Living at home follows the ways of the foolish; leaving the household stays far from the ways of the foolish. Living at home does not attain right livelihood; leaving the household attains right livelihood. Living at home is a place of sorrow, grief, and affliction; leaving the household is a place of joy. Living at home is a place of bondage; leaving the household is a place of liberation. Living at home is a place of harm; leaving the household is a place free of harm. Living at home has the suffering of craving gain; leaving the household is free from the suffering of craving gain. Living at home is a place of turmoil; leaving the household is a place of tranquility. Living at home is a base and lowly state; leaving the household is a high and superior state. Living at home is burned by afflictions; leaving the household extinguishes the fire of afflictions. Living at home is always for the sake of others; leaving the household is always for oneself. Living at home takes suffering as pleasure; leaving the household takes renunciation as pleasure. Living at home increases thorns; leaving the household can extinguish thorns. Living at home accomplishes minor dharmas; leaving the household accomplishes the Great Dharma. Living at home lacks the application of the Dharma; leaving the household has the application of the Dharma. Living at home is reviled by the three vehicles; leaving the household is praised by the three vehicles. Living at home knows no contentment; leaving the household is always content. Living at home is loved by the Demon King; leaving the household causes the demon to be terrified. Living at home has much heedlessness; leaving the household has no heedlessness. Living at home makes one a servant to others; leaving the household makes one the master of servants. Living at home is a place of darkness; leaving the household is a place of light. Living at home is a place where arrogance increases; leaving the household is a place where arrogance is eliminated. Living at home brings little reward; leaving the household brings great reward. Living at home involves much flattery and deceit; leaving the household has an upright and straightforward mind. Living at home always holds grief and suffering; leaving the household always harbors joy and ease. Living at home is a method of deceit; leaving the household is the method of true tranquility. Living at home has much distraction; leaving the household has no distraction. Living at home is a place of transmigration; leaving the household is not a place of transmigration. Living at home is like poison; leaving the household is like ambrosia. Living at home loses internal contemplation; leaving the household attains internal contemplation. Living at home has nowhere to take refuge; leaving the household has a place of refuge. Living at home has much wrath; leaving the household practices much loving-kindness and compassion. Living at home carries a heavy burden; leaving the household puts down the heavy burden. Living at home incurs offenses; leaving the household is free from offenses. Living at home transmigrates in saṃsāra; leaving the household sets a limit to it. Living at home regards material wealth as a jewel; leaving the household regards merit as a jewel. Living at home drifts along with the flow of saṃsāra; leaving the household swims against the current of saṃsāra. Living at home is an ocean of afflictions; leaving the household is a great ferryboat. Living at home is bound by fetters; leaving the household is freed from fetters. Living at home is admonished by kings; leaving the household is instructed by the Buddha-Dharma. Living at home finds companions easily; leaving the household finds companions with difficulty. Living at home considers harming superior; leaving the household considers gathering in [with kindness] superior. Living at home increases afflictions; leaving the household departs from afflictions. Living at home is like dwelling in a forest of thorns; leaving the household is emerging from the forest of thorns. Mañjuśrī, even if I were to criticize living at home and praise leaving the household with words that fill empty space, my exposition would still be inexhaustible. This refers to the faults of living at home and the merits of leaving the household."

4.9

Furthermore, the Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "Living at home is cramped and confined, just like a prison; all afflictions arise because of it. Leaving the household is wide and spacious, just like empty space; all wholesome dharmas increase because of it. Those at home worry about wives and children inwardly, and are driven by royal service outwardly. If they are wealthy, noble, and exalted, they become heedless and indulge their passions; if they are poor, suffering, base, and lowly, they lose their resolve in hunger and cold. Troubled day and night by public and private matters, entangled in numerous duties, when would they have leisure to cultivate the Path?"

4.10

Furthermore, the Ugraparipṛcchā-sūtra says: "Those who live at home have many afflictions; they are bound by the affectionate love of parents, wives, and children. Constantly thinking of wealth and sex, they crave without satiation. With little protection, they have many worries. Transmigrating in the six destinies, they turn away from the Buddha-Dharma. One should view them as enemies and bad companions. One should weary of household life and give rise to the aspiration to leave the household. No one cultivates and gathers the path of unexcelled bodhi while remaining at home; all attain the unexcelled Path through leaving the household."

4.11

Furthermore, the Sūtra on the Merits of Leaving the Household says: "If one allows sons, daughters, slaves, or subjects to leave the household, the merit is immeasurable. For instance, if the world were filled with arhats and one made offerings to them for a hundred years, this would not equal the immeasurable merit of someone leaving the household and receiving the precepts for a single day and night for the sake of nirvāṇa. Moreover, it is like building a seven-jeweled stūpa reaching up to the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven: it still does not equal the merit of leaving the household." Furthermore, the Mahānidāna-sūtra says: "Because of leaving the household for a single day and night, one does not fall into the three evil destinies for twenty kalpas." Furthermore, the Mahāsāṃghika-vinaya says: "One who leaves the household and cultivates brahmacarya for a single day and night is freed from six thousand and sixty years of suffering in the three destinies." Furthermore, the Sūtra on the Merits of Leaving the Household says: "If one creates obstacles and suppresses someone [wishing to] leave the household, they immediately sever the Buddha-seed, and all evils gather upon their person like an ocean. In the present life they will contract leprosy, and after death they will enter the dark hells with no time of release." Furthermore, the Kāśyapa-sūtra says: "At that time, when the great king's crown prince heard how profound the merit of leaving the household was, and they all resolved to leave the household, there was not a single sentient being in the four continents who remained at home; all gave rise to the aspiration and sought to leave the household. Once those sentient beings had left the household, they did not need to plant the earth, for grain and rice grew naturally; trees naturally grew garments; and all the gods made offerings, waited upon them, and served them." Furthermore, the Buddhapiṭaka-sūtra says: "One should practice the Path with a single mind and act in accord with the Dharma, not thinking of food and clothing. If anything is needed, even a fraction of the Tathāgata's white-hair mark (ūrṇā) could provide for all disciples who leave the household in the Latter Age, and it still could not be exhausted." Furthermore, the Damamūkanidāna-sūtra says: "Suppose there were a hundred blind people, and a skilled physician could treat their eyes so that all at once they could see clearly; and suppose there were another hundred people whose offenses condemned them to having their eyes gouged out, and one powerful person could deliver them from their punishment so that they did not lose their sight. Although the merit of these two people would be immeasurable, it still would not equal the vastness of the virtue of permitting someone to leave the household or of leaving the household oneself."

4.12

Topic Three: Leaving the Household

4.13

When first wishing to leave the household, according to the Vinaya, one must first invite two masters: the first is the upādhyāya, and the second is the ācārya (the procedure for inviting them is as described in the Vinaya). The Sarvāstivāda-śāstra states: "If one first invites the upādhyāya, at the time of receiving the ten precepts, if the upādhyāya is not present, one does not obtain the ten precepts. If one hears of his death, one cannot receive the precepts. If one has not heard of his death, the reception of the precepts is valid. The ācārya should be treated the same." Furthermore, the Sūtra on the Upāsaka Delivering People says: "When wishing to shave the hair, first sprinkle the ground with scented water at the place where the hair is to be cut. Within a circle of seven feet, hang banners at the four corners and set up a high seat intended for the one leaving the household to sit on. Further provide two elevated seats intended for the two masters to sit on. The one wishing to leave the household wears their original secular clothing, bids farewell and bows to parents, elders, and relatives, and then recites the verse:"

4.14

"Transmigrating within the three realms, / Attached love cannot be cast off.
Abandoning affection to enter the unconditioned— / This is the true repaying of kindness."

4.15

Having spoken this verse, one sheds secular clothing. The Samantapāsādikā states: "One should bathe with scented water to remove the scent of the white-robed (layperson)." The Sūtra on Delivering People says: "Although one puts on the garments of one who has left the household, one is only permitted to wear the nivāsana and the saṃkakṣikā; one is not yet permitted to wear the kaṣāya. When entering the bodhimaṇḍa, one should go before the upādhyāya and kneel. The upādhyāya should regard [the candidate] as a son, and must not harbor a base or disdainful thought. The disciple should regard the master as a father, revering and serving him. After the upādhyāya preaches various teachings to admonish and encourage the disciple's mind, the disciple goes before the ācārya and sits." The Samantapāsādikā states: "One sprinkles scented water upon the crown of the head and recites a verse of praise:"

4.16

"Excellent, O great man! / Able to comprehend that the world is impermanent,
Renouncing the secular to hasten toward nirvāṇa, / Rare and difficult to conceive."

4.17

Having spoken this verse, the master instructs him to pay homage to the Buddhas of the ten directions. That completed, he again recites a verse of praise:

4.18

"I take refuge in the Great World-Honoured One, / Who can deliver from the sufferings of the three realms of existence;
I also vow that all sentient beings / Shall everywhere enter the bliss of the unconditioned."

4.19

Having spoken this verse, the ācārya then shaves his hair. The Sūtra on Delivering People says: "While shaving the hair, bystanders chant the hymn of leaving the household:"

4.20

"Disfiguring the body to maintain resolve and integrity, / Severing love, having no favorites;
Abandoning home to propagate the sacred Path, / Vowing to deliver all people."

4.21

When shaving the head, three to five hairs should be left on the crown. [The postulant] approaches the upādhyāya and kneels on both knees. The upādhyāya asks, saying: "Do you now grant permission for me to remove the hair on your crown, or not?" [The postulant] replies, saying: "Yes." Then the upādhyāya puts the kāṣāya on him. Just as it is being put on, according to the *Samantapāsādikā* (Shanjian lun), a verse of praise is again recited, saying:

4.22

"Great indeed is the robe of liberation, / The unconditioned garment of the field of merit! / Wearing it and observing it in accord with the moral conduct of the precepts, / One will widely deliver all sentient beings."

4.23

According to the *Duren jing*, having put on the kāṣāya, one pays homage to the Buddha. When the circumambulation by both monastics and laity from behind for three circuits is completed, he again recites a verse himself, giving rise to feelings of rejoice and gratitude, saying:

4.24

"How fortunate to encounter the Buddha! / Who would not rejoice? / When merit and vows meet with the opportune time, / I now attain the benefit of the Dharma."

4.25

When the circumambulation is finished, he then pays homage to the great assembly and the two masters. Afterwards, he takes his seat in the lowest place and receives the prostrations and gratitudes of the six kinds of relations. His mind cherishes joy at leaving home and departing from the secular world. His parents and all relatives all pay homage to him, gladdened by his aspiration for the Way. It is best to shave the head before noon, so that he may partake of the midday meal in time. According to the *Vinayamātṛkā* (Pinimu lun), having shaved the head and put on the kāṣāya, the upādhyāya then confers the three refuges, the five precepts, and so forth. (Other ritual procedures cannot be fully set forth; they should be weighed according to circumstances so that the generation of wholesome [qualities] will be ever greater.)

4.26

Fourth: Citing Evidential Circumstances

4.27

As the *Zabaozang jing* states: In the past there was a woman who was extraordinarily upright and beautiful. She went forth and cultivated the Way in the teaching of an external tradition. People of that time asked her, saying: "With a countenance such as this, you ought to remain in the secular life. For what reason did you go forth?" The woman replied, saying: "In my present state, it is not that I am not beautiful, but because from childhood I have detested carnal lust, I have now gone forth. When I was at home, because of my beauty, I was married early and gave birth to a boy early. The boy subsequently grew up to be incomparably handsome. Gradually, he was seen to become emaciated and frail, like one who was sick. I immediately asked my son about the cause and condition of his sickness. The son refused to speak. Because I questioned him incessantly, having no choice, the son spoke to his mother, saying: 'If I desist and do not speak, I fear my life will not be preserved; yet if I wish to explain it fully, it is exceedingly shameful.' He then said to his mother: 'I desire to have mother for my private lustful passions. Because I cannot have [you], for this reason I am sick.' The mother then said to him: 'Since ancient times, how could there be such a matter?' She again thought to herself: 'If I do not comply, my son might die. Now I would rather violate principle in order to preserve my son's life.' Thereupon she called her son, intending to comply with his desire. As the son was about to mount the bed, the earth suddenly split open, and my son sank alive into hell. I was immediately terrified and pulled my son with my hand, catching hold of my son's hair. And my son's hair is today still held in my bosom. Deeply moved and pained by this matter, I therefore went forth."

4.28

Furthermore, the *Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa* (Zhidu lun) states: Those who have gone forth in the Buddha's Dharma, although they break the precepts and fall into sin, when the retribution for the sin is exhausted, they attain liberation. As is said in the *Jātaka of the Nun Utpalavarṇā*: When the Buddha was in the world, this nun attained the six supernormal knowledges and achieved the fruit of an arhat. Entering the households of the noble, she constantly praised the teaching of going forth, saying to the noblewomen: "Sisters, you may go forth." The noblewomen said: "We are young and vigorous, with lush and beautiful complexions. Upholding the precepts is difficult; we might perhaps break the precepts." The nun said: "If you break the precepts, then break them; just go forth." They asked, saying: "If one breaks the precepts, one will fall into hell; how can they be broken?" She replied, saying: "If you fall into hell, then fall." The noblewomen laughed at her and said: "One suffers punishment in hell; how could one fall into it?" The nun said: "I recall myself that in a past life I was an actress. Wearing various garments, I spoke miscellaneous words, and sometimes wore the robes of a nun as a playful jest. By these causes and conditions, at the time of Kāśyapa Buddha, I became a nun. Relying on my noble family and beauty, arrogance arose in my mind, and I broke the prohibitive precepts. Therefore, I fell into hell and suffered various punishments. When the retribution for sin was ended, I encountered Śākyamuni Buddha, went forth, and attained the path of an arhat. Although one breaks the precepts, one may still attain the fruit of the Way. Furthermore, when the Buddha was at the Jetavana, there was a drunken brāhmaṇa who came to the Buddha's place and sought to become a monk. The Buddha instructed Ānanda to shave his head and dress him in the Dharma robes. When the intoxication cleared, he was alarmed and terrified that his own body had suddenly become a monk, and he immediately ran away. The monks asked the Buddha: 'Why did you allow this drunken brāhmaṇa to become a monk?' The Buddha said: 'Throughout immeasurable kalpas, this brāhmaṇa had no mind to go forth at all. Now, because of intoxication, he temporarily gave rise to a slight thought [of it]. Through this cause and condition, he will in the future go forth and attain the Way.' Due to such various causes and conditions, the benefit and merit of going forth are immeasurable. For this reason, although the white-robed [laity] have the five precepts, their merit is not as great as that of going forth."

4.29

Furthermore, the *Zabaozang jing* states: In the past, in the city of Roruka, there was King Udayana. He was intelligent and discerning, possessing great wisdom. He had a queen named Youxiang (Lakṣaṇavatī), who was upright, with few equals, and also possessed virtuous conduct. The king loved and respected her dearly. At that time, according to the law of that kingdom, all kings did not play the lute themselves. At that time, the queen was in an inner chamber rejoicing and making merry with the king. Relying on the king's favor, she bade the king play the lute while she arose to dance. When she first raised her hands, the king, who had always been skilled at physiognomy, saw that the queen's signs of death had already appeared, calculating that her remaining life would not exceed seven days. The king immediately put down the lute, and with a sorrowful expression, sighed deeply. The queen said to the king: "Receiving the king's grace and favor, I dared to request the king to play the lute in the inner chamber while I arose to dance for our pleasure. What was displeasing that you put down the lute and sighed deeply? May the king tell me." The king was unwilling to reply. After she implored him earnestly without ceasing, the king answered with the truth. Hearing this, the queen was exceedingly worried and afraid. She immediately said to the king: "I have heard the nun in the stone chamber say that if one can faithfully go forth for one day, one will certainly be born in heaven. I wish to go forth; may the king grant permission or not?" The king's affection was deep, and he said to the queen: "When it reaches the sixth day, I will allow you to go." Unwilling to let her go [immediately], it finally reached the sixth day. When it arrived, he said to the queen: "You have a wholesome intention to seek this going forth. If you attain birth in heaven, you must come to see me; only then will I let you go." Having made this vow, the queen assented and was then able to go forth and receive the eightfold abstinence. On that very day, she drank syrup of stone honey, and her intestines twisted and knotted. At dawn on the seventh day, she passed away. Riding upon this wholesome condition, she attained birth in heaven. Remembering her original vow, she came to the king's palace. Her radiant light was blazing and illuminated the entire royal palace. At that time, the king asked, saying: "Who are you?" The deva then replied, saying: "I am the king's wife, Queen Youxiang." The king joyfully said: "Please come and take a seat." The deva answered him, saying: "I now see that the king is foul and defiled, not to be approached. It is only because of the previous vow that I have come to see the king." Having heard this, the king's mind opened in realization, and he sighed to himself, saying: "Now that deva was originally my wife. Going forth for one day, she immediately attained birth in heaven. Her divine aspiration is lofty and distant, looking down upon me as vile and base. Why should I not go forth now? I have once heard it said that a single fingernail of a deva is worth the entire land of Jambudvīpa. How could this one kingdom of mine be worth coveting?" Having spoken these words, he abdicated the throne to his son, went forth to cultivate the Way, and attained arhatship. Furthermore, a verse from the *Zhidu lun* states:

4.30

"Though the peacock has colors adorning its body, / It is not equal to the wild goose or crane that can fly far. / Though the white-robed [laity] possess the power of wealth and nobility, / It is not equal to the profound merit of going forth."

4.31

Furthermore, the *Za piyu jing* states: In the past, there were two brothers who dwelt in great wealth and status, with immeasurable property and goods. When their parents died, they had nothing to rely upon. Although they were brothers, their aspirations and thoughts were different. The elder brother loved discourses on the Way, while the younger brother loved the family estate. Seeing that his elder brother did not attend to the family estate, the younger brother constantly resented him: "Being brothers whose parents died early, we should diligently consider our livelihood; instead, you abandon the family estate to chase after śramaṇas and listen to Buddhist scriptures. Can śramaṇas give you clothing, food, and wealth? The household becomes increasingly impoverished and property is depleted daily, bringing ridicule from people for neglecting and abandoning the family lineage. Only continuing what our parents left behind is filial piety!" The elder brother replied to him, saying: "Upholding the five precepts and ten good deeds, making offerings to the Triratna, and transforming one's parents with the Way—only this is filial piety. The Way and the secular are opposed, as is their natural aspiration. What the Way delights in, the secular detests; what the secular treasures, the Way disdains. The wise and the foolish do not share the same counsel, just as light and darkness. Therefore, the wise person departs from darkness and approaches light, reaching the truth through the Way. What you now delight in is the deception of suffering and distress; how could you know its bitterness?" His younger brother harbored resentment, shook his head, and did not believe him. Seeing this, the elder brother said to the younger brother: "You covet household affairs and value wealth; I love the scriptural Way and treasure wisdom. Now I will abandon the household and take refuge in the field of merit. Reckoning life's lodging in this world, it is swift as flying dust. When impermanence suddenly arrives, one is bound by sin. Therefore, I abandon the world, avoid desire, and pursue peace." Seeing his elder brother's will was set upon the meaning of the Way, the younger brother was silent and did not respond. The elder brother then left home to become a śramaṇa. Day and night he was vigorous, sitting in meditation and contemplating. His practice conformed with the scriptural Dharma, and he realized the fruit of the Way. Hearing of this, the younger brother's anger burned even more. The younger brother was greedy for the family estate and never practiced the Dharma. Later, when his life ended, he fell among cattle. He grew very fat and large, and merchants bought him to transport and trade salt, traveling back and forth several times. The ox subsequently became emaciated and exhausted, unable to advance further. Ascending a slope, he was utterly spent and collapsed, lying down unable to rise. The merchants beat him, but he could barely move his head. At that time, the elder brother was traveling, flying in the sky. Seeing his younger brother from afar, he said to him: "Where are the fields and houses where you, my brother, dwelt now? Yet you cast yourself down into the cattle beasts!" He immediately illuminated his past life with spiritual power, and [the ox] recognized it himself, weeping and reproaching himself: "Due to unwholesome actions, stinginess, greed, and jealousy, not believing in the Buddha's Dharma, slighting the noble assembly, not believing my elder brother's words, and stubbornly following my own will, I therefore fell among cattle, exhausted and feeble. How can regret overtake it now?" Knowing his thoughts, the elder brother was sorrowful and grieved. He immediately explained the background to the ox's owner. Hearing this, the merchant gave [the ox] to him as a gift. He then took the ox away and sent it to the monastery, causing it to be mindful of the Triratna and fed in accordance with the proper times. When its life came to an end, it attained birth in the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven. At that time, the assembly of merchants all thought to themselves: "We manage livelihoods and are unable to give; not knowing the meaning of the Way, we fear that in death we will also be like this." Thereupon, they together left their homes, abandoned their wives and children, gave up their treasured playthings, and went forth to become śramaṇas. Vigorous and untiring, they all likewise attained the Way. Viewed from this, worldly wealth and treasures do not benefit people. Revering the Three Honored Ones, cultivating oneself, and studying the Way—one will attain peace and security life after life.

4.32

Furthermore, the Fu fazang jing says: In the past, the venerable arhat Jāyanta went with his disciples to the city of Takṣaśilā. Having arrived at that city, he looked sorrowful and displeased. Advancing a little farther, he saw a crow on the road and smiled with joy. A disciple asked the master, "Please tell us the cause of this." The venerable one replied: "When I first reached the city, beneath the city gate I saw a hungry ghost child who said to me in distress: 'My mother entered the city to seek food for me. It has been five hundred years since we parted. Famished, exhausted, and destitute, my death is not far off. If you enter the city, Venerable One, and see my mother, please tell her of my suffering and ask her to return quickly.' As soon as I entered the city, I saw that mother and fully related her child's message. The ghost mother answered me: 'Since I entered this city, five hundred years have passed, yet I have never been able to obtain even a single person's spittle. Having recently given birth, my physical strength is frail and weak. Even if I obtained a little spittle, the other ghosts would snatch it from me. Just now I encountered someone and happened to get a little spittle. I wish to leave the city to share it with my child. But beneath the gate there are many powerful ghosts and spirits, and being terrified, I dare not go out. I only pray that the Venerable One will escort me out of the city.' I then led her out so that she could eat together with her child. I then asked the ghost, 'How long has it been since you were born here?' The ghost answered me, 'I have seen this city form and disintegrate seven times.' Hearing the ghost's words, I grieved and lamented that the suffering undergone in saṃsāra is so long-lasting, which is why I looked sorrowful. As for that crow: ninety-one kalpas ago in the past, a Buddha appeared in the world named Vipaśyin. At that time, I was the son of an elder and wished to leave the household life. At that time, leaving the household life would certainly lead to attaining arhatship. My parents would not permit it and forcibly betrothed me to a wife. After obtaining a wife, I again sought to leave the household life. My parents said to me: 'If you give birth to a son, we will let you go.' I immediately obeyed their instruction, and later a boy was born. When he reached the age of six, I wished to leave again. My parents instructed the child to embrace my legs, weeping and crying: 'Father, if you abandon me, who will look after and sustain me? You must kill me first, and only then may you leave!' Seeing this at that time, passion and attachment arose in my mind, and I said to the child: 'For your sake, I will not leave the household life after all.' Because of that child, for ninety-one kalpas from then on, we drifted through the five destinies without ever seeing each other again. Now, viewing with the eye of the Way, I see that this crow is that very son of mine from before. Pitying his ignorance and long dwelling in saṃsāra, I smiled. For this reason, if someone hinders another from leaving the household life, the karmic retribution for this person will be to remain constantly in the evil destinies, enduring extreme suffering with no release. When the retribution in the evil destinies is finished, if born among humans, they will be born blind without eyes. Therefore, when the wise see someone who wishes to leave the household life, they should diligently use expedient means to encourage and assist them to succeed, and not create obstacles."

4.33

Furthermore, the Chujia gongde jing says: In the past, when the Buddha was in the world, the Buddha and Ānanda entered the city of Vaiśālī at the time for begging food. There was a prince named Bairoṣaṇa (Pi-luo-xian-na) who was on a high terrace enjoying himself with palace ladies. Hearing the sound of music, the Buddha said to Ānanda: "I know that after seven days, this person will certainly end his life. If he does not leave the household life, he will fall into hell." Having heard this, Ānanda went at once to teach and transform him, urging him to leave the household life. Hearing the encouragement, the prince indulged his desires to the utmost for six days; on the seventh day, he sought out the Buddha to leave the household life. Cultivating and upholding the pure precepts for one day and one night, his life ended, and he was born in the heaven of the Four Heavenly Kings as the son of Vaiśravaṇa, the Heavenly King of the North. Together with palace ladies, he enjoyed the pleasures of the five desires, living out the full celestial lifespan of five hundred years. Afterwards he was born in Trāyastriṃśa as the son of Śakra, with a celestial lifespan of one thousand years. Next he was born in Yāma, again as a prince, with a lifespan of two thousand years. Later he was born in Tuṣita, also as a prince, with a lifespan of four thousand years. Next he was born in Nirmāṇarati as a prince of the gods, with a lifespan of eight thousand years. When his lifespan in Nirmāṇarati was exhausted, he was again born in the sixth heaven, Paranirmitavaśavartin, as a prince of the gods. Together with palace ladies, the five desires he enjoyed were the supreme among the lower [heavens], living out the celestial lifespan of sixteen thousand years. Enjoying pleasures in this way, he transmigrated back and forth across the six desire heavens seven times without premature death. For leaving the household life for a single day, for a full twenty kalpas he did not fall into the evil destinies, constantly being born in the heavens to enjoy spontaneous blessings. Finally, in the human realm, he was born into a wealthy and joyful family, fully endowed with wealth and treasures. After his prime had passed and as he approached old age, weary of the world, he left the household life to cultivate the Way and became a pratyekabuddha named Vairūḍaka (Pi-liu-di-li), vastly delivering humans and gods beyond measure. For this reason, the merit of leaving the household life is immeasurable and boundless, beyond all comparison. Suppose arhats filled the four continents: if there were a person who for one hundred years wholeheartedly made offerings of the four requisites without lack, and even at their nirvāṇa erected stūpas for each, offering various flowers, fragrances, and necklaces—the merit obtained would not equal that of a person who, seeking nirvāṇa, leaves the household life and upholds the precepts for a single day and a single night. Judging by this, the method of leaving the household life is truly worthy of honor and esteem. One must not covet worldly matters on account of minor wealth or sensual beauty, drifting through saṃsāra and afflicting oneself with suffering.

4.34

The verse says:

4.35

Feathered ascension upon the Three Mountains ultimately came to naught; / The deep worries of the five austerities entangled one in vain. / Together they enter the dense cage, abiding in the house of dust— / How can that compare to quieting thought and quitting the perilous city? / The circular compass of mirror-wisdom is both luminous and pure; / The swift wheel of the moving moon is brilliant and clear once more. / The bypass is rugged and steep: turn your wheels back! / How can the grand avenue that reaches the aged share the same march?

4.36

Section 5: Chanting and Praising (This contains three headings)

4.37

1. Expressing the Intent
2. Citing Evidential Passages
3. Praising Virtue

4.38

1. Expressing the Intent

4.39

The intent of eulogizing and narrating is lodged in the texts of chants and songs. The texts of chants and songs rely upon vocal sounds. Therefore, when chants and songs are skillful, the intent of eulogizing and narrating is expressed; when vocal sounds are wondrous, the texts of chants and songs flow smoothly. Words depend on sounds: this is the principle of mutual reliance. Examining the West, its use of pāṭha (bei) is like the East's use of praises (zan). A praise follows the text to form a composition; a pāṭha uses short verses to let eulogies flow forth. Comparing their matters and meanings, the names differ but the reality is the same. For this reason, the sūtras say: "To sing and praise the Buddha's virtues with subtle and wondrous sounds"—this is what it refers to. In the past, when the Śākya Venerable entered concentration, the harp song vibrated in the stone cave; when Bhaddiya raised his chant, the pure echoes reached the Pure Abodes. The supreme sounds that awaken the world can surely never be adequately praised! Coming down to the final age, cultivating and practicing them has had clear efficacy. Thus the concentrated contemplation of the Prince of Chensi was moved by the Sanskrit chanting at Mount Yu; the vow of Bai Qiao connected with the wondrous voice of the Great Being; Yaolian's diligent practice received Dharma melodies from dark deities; Emperor Wenxuan's spurred sincerity brought forth dream echoes in his fasting chamber. All of them were able to express the atmosphere of celestial palaces and emulate the sounds of pure realms, modulating phrasing and melodies, and intoning rhythmic cadence. These are also evident proofs of divine response and clear models for students. Tracing the origin of sūtra sounds to their excellence: their wondrousness arises from spontaneity. Composition and application can be cultivated, but the refinement of resonance is not mere practice. It is that by which the voice of the Way shines forth, transforming worldly hearing. It should be made pure yet not weak, heroic yet not ferocious, flowing yet not excessive, collected yet not stagnant; evoking the style of Jetavana and Vulture Peak, weaving a cadence with the aura of the heavens. Heard from afar, it is vast, lofty, and elegant; attended up close, it is relaxed, harmonious, and reverent. This is its broad outline. When sūtras speak of the "deep and far-reaching thunderous voice," is it not precisely this? As for hymns and praises strung through a retreat: when the assembly gathers for a long time, the night drags on, late hours approach, the incense is burnt out, and candles are shrouded, the cover of sleep overspreads their six senses, and the knot of indolence entangles their four limbs. Thereupon, selecting wondrous resonances, [the chanter] ascends the seat; choosing sublime sounds, he unrolls the scroll. When the musical notes of the chant are sounded, jade vibrates and metal reverberates, flying in all directions to sadden and delight the sevenfold assembly, matching the voice of the kalaviṅka and equaling the cry of the divine luan-phoenix. It can reawaken sleeping souls and restore reverent discipline to indolent minds. The entire hall is startled to attention; those seated in rows are gladdened in heart. At that very moment, one recognizes how precious the sound of sūtras is!

4.40

2. Citing Evidential Passages

4.41

As the Dīrghāgama says: When a voice has five kinds of purity, it is then called a Brahmā voice. What are the five? First, its sound is upright. Second, its sound is harmonious and elegant. Third, its sound is clear and penetrating. Fourth, its sound is deep and full. Fifth, it is heard all around and far away. Possessing these five, it is called a Brahmā voice.

4.42

Furthermore, the Brahmāyu-sūtra says: When the Tathāgata expounds the Dharma, his voice has eight qualities: 1. the best sound; 2. an easily understood sound; 3. a soft sound; 4. a harmonious sound; 5. a venerable and wise sound; 6. a sound without error; 7. a deep and wondrous sound; 8. a non-feminine sound. His speech has neither omission nor deficiency, and none can find fault with it.

4.43

Furthermore, the Daśabhāṇavāra-vinaya says: Because the gods rejoice in their hearts upon hearing chanting (pāṭha), the chanting voice is permitted. Furthermore, the Vinayamātṛkā says: The Buddha told the monks, "I allow you to chant (pāṭha)." A chant is words of spoken discourse. Although speech was permitted, they did not know what Dharma should be spoken. The Buddha said: "From sūtras to upadeśas, speak whatever you wish." Regarding the twelve divisions of scriptures, they again had doubts: "If we wish to speak the text sequentially, the assembly is large and the texts are vast, so we fear weariness and boredom will arise. If we make a brief compilation of fine phrases to directly reveal the meaning, we do not know if that is permissible." For this reason, they fully reported it to the Bhagavat. The Buddha then permitted the monks to cite essential words and wondrous phrases from the sūtras to directly reveal their meaning. At that time, there was a monk not far from the Buddha who stood and loudly recited the sūtras in a singing tone. The Buddha heard this and did not permit reciting the sūtras with this sound. There are five faults in expounding the Dharma with a singing tone like that of non-Buddhists: 1. It is not called self-restraint; 2. It does not suit the assembly; 3. The gods are not pleased; 4. The speech is not proper and difficult to understand; 5. Because the phrasing is unskillful, the meaning is also difficult to understand. These are called the five faults.

4.44

Furthermore, the Xianyu jing states: In the past, when the Buddha was in the world, King Prasenajit passed by the side of Jetavana with his military forces. He heard the chanting of a monk, which was elegant and pleasing. The military forces stood listening without ever tiring, and the elephants and horses pricked up their ears and halted, refusing to advance. The king and his army then entered the monastery to see. They saw the chanting monk: his appearance was extremely short, stunted, and repulsive, so that the king could not bear to look at him. The king then asked the Buddha, 'What karma did this monk perform in the past to receive such a retribution as this?' The Buddha told the king, 'Long ago in the past, a Buddha appeared in the world named Kāśyapa. After he entered nirvāṇa, King Kṛkī gathered his relics, intending to erect a stūpa for them. Four dragon kings transformed into human forms and came to the king's place to inquire about the building of the stūpa: "Will you make it of jewels or of earth?" The king then replied, saying, "I wish to make the stūpa large, but I do not have many precious jewels; now it will be made of earth, five li square and twenty-five li high." The dragons said to the king, "We are dragon kings, and have therefore come to ask you. If you make it of jewels, we will assist you." Hearing this, the king rejoiced. The dragons further said to the king, "Outside the four city gates there are four springs. If you take the water from the eastern gate's spring to make a moat, it will transform into lapis lazuli; if you take the water from the southern gate's spring to make a moat, it will transform into yellow gold; if you take the water from the western gate's spring to make a moat, it will transform into white silver; if you take the water from the northern gate's spring to make a moat, it will transform into white jade." Hearing these words, the king's joy doubled. He then appointed four overseers, each to superintend one side. The work of three of the overseers was nearly finished, but one overseer was indolent, and his work alone was not accomplished. The king went on inspection, saw this, and reprimanded him according to reason. Harbouring resentment, that man said to the king, "This stūpa is too large; when will it ever be finished?" The king ordered the workers to labour diligently day and night, and it was entirely completed all at once. The stūpa was extraordinarily lofty and steep, adorned with many jewels, and exceedingly extraordinary to behold. Seeing it, that overseer leapt for joy and repented of his former fault. Holding a golden bell, he placed it atop the pole of the stūpa and made this vow: "May my voice in all my future births be exceedingly fine, so that all sentient beings will delight to hear it; and in the future may there be a Buddha named Śākyamuni, and may I meet him and be delivered from birth and death!" Because in the past he had resented the stūpa being large, he was constantly born repulsive; but because he held the golden bell and suspended it atop the stūpa's pole, and vowed to see the Buddha, from that time onward for five hundred lives he had an exceedingly fine voice, and now he has again met the Buddha, gone forth from household life to cultivate the Way, and attained the fruit of arhatship. By this cause and condition, when all sentient beings see another performing meritorious acts, they should not slander them, lest afterward they receive an evil retribution and regret will be of no avail.'

4.45

Section 3: Conditions of Praising Virtues

4.46

As the Pusa benxing jing states: The Buddha told Ānanda, 'I recall that in the past a Tathāgata appeared in the world named Puṣya, a tathāgata, arhat, samyaksaṃbuddha. At that time, that Buddha was inside a cave of various jewels. Seeing that Buddha, joy arose in my heart. Joining my ten fingers, I stood on one leg for seven days and seven nights, and praised that Buddha with this verse, speaking the verse:'

4.47

'Above the heavens and below the heavens, there is none like the Buddha;
In the worlds of the ten directions, there is none comparable.
All that exists in the world, I have seen it all;
In all things, there is none like the Buddha.'

4.48

'Ānanda, after I had praised that Buddha with this verse, I made such a vow, until that Buddha said to his attendant: "After ninety-four kalpas have passed, this person will become a Buddha named Śākyamuni." After I received this prophecy at that time, I did not abandon vigor and increased my merits. For immeasurable lives I was a Brahmā king, a Śakra king, and a wheel-turning sage king. By the causal power of these good karmas, I became fully endowed with the four kinds of analytical eloquence, so that not a single person could debate with me and subdue me, and I was able to accomplish anuttarasamyaksaṃbodhi, and even turn the unexcelled wheel of the Dharma.'

4.49

Furthermore, the Nirvāṇa-sūtra states: At that time, Kāśyapa Bodhisattva then praised the Buddha with verses before the Buddha:

4.50

'Compassionate to the world, the Great Physician King,
His body and wisdom are both quiescent.
Within the teachings of non-self there is the true Self;
Therefore I pay homage to the Unexcelled Honoured One.
Generating the [aspiration] and ultimate [attainment] are not distinct in these two;
Yet between these two minds, the first mind is difficult.
Not yet having crossed over oneself, one first delivers others;
Therefore I pay homage to the initial generation of the mind.'

4.51

Furthermore, the Treatise on Generating the Bodhimind states: The author of the treatise spoke a verse in praise of the Buddha, saying:

4.52

'I pay homage to the boundless Buddhas,
To the Buddhas of the past, future, and present,
Whose immovable wisdom is equal to space,
The Great Compassionate Honoured Ones who rescue the world.'

4.53

The two-line verse "My teacher, God of Gods" (from the Lalitavistara); the two-line verse "How does one obtain long life?" (from the Nirvāṇa-sūtra); the two-line verse "The Tathāgata's wondrous form-body" (from the Śrīmālā-sūtra); the two-line verse "Dwelling in the world like empty space" (from the Chaoyue huiming jing).

4.54

'With great kindness and pity for all beings,
Serving as a sheltering canopy for the blind and dark;
Opening [the eyes of] the sightless to enable them to see,
Transforming those who have not heard, through the clarity of the Way.
Dwelling in the world like empty space,
Just like a lotus flower unattached to the water;
With a pure mind transcending even that,
I bow my head in homage to the Unexcelled Honoured One.'

4.55

The compiler states: In the land of the Han, it is prevalent to be fond of abbreviating and omitting; hence when chanting in the assembly, they mostly chant half-gāthās. Thus the Vinayamātṛkā-śāstra states: 'One may not perform half-chants; [doing so] incurs a duṣkṛta offense.' However, regarding this Sanskrit chanting and its melody, it is not yet clear what Western scripture or authority it is based upon. The answer is: As long as the sage has permitted the performance of chanting, it is acceptable to draw upon and use praise-gāthās from the sūtras. Yet inside and outside the Passes, and in the chanting texts of Wu and Shu, each follows what is preferred; chants and praises are of many kinds. But since the Han and Sanskrit [languages] are different, their phonetic rhymes cannot be used interchangeably. Coming down to the Song dynasty, there was the Dharma Master Kang Senghui, originally a person from Sogdiana, who was erudite and eloquent. He translated scriptures, was also skilled in Sanskrit sounds, and transmitted the Nirvāṇa chant; its melodic composition was plaintive and elegant, and it was widely admired in the world, so that students of sacred phonetics all took it as a model. Furthermore, long ago in the Jin dynasty, there was the Dharma Master Dao'an, who compiled and instituted three categories: offering sūtras, offering lectures, uposatha, and so forth; the systems established by past sages have not fallen to the ground, and throughout the realm they serve as models that all people practise. Furthermore, coming to the Wei dynasty, Prince Si of Chen, Cao Zhi, styled Zijian, was the fourth son of Emperor Wu of Wei. From youth he possessed fine character and talent; at the age of seven he composed literary writings, finishing them as soon as his brush touched paper without ever revising. He was thoroughly accomplished in every worldly art and technique. When Handan Chun saw him, he was awestruck and called him a divine being. Whenever Cao Zhi read Buddhist sūtras, he would linger over them with sighing admiration, regarding them as the ultimate consummation of the Supreme Way. He thereupon instituted the tones of the seven notes of recitation, with their rising, falling, and modulations, so that the world's chanters all took them as their standard. Once he was wandering on Mount Yu, when he suddenly heard the sound of Brahmā in the sky, clear, elegant, plaintive, and gentle; its sound moved the heart. He listened alone for a long time, and then his attendants all heard it. Cao Zhi was deeply moved by the divine principle and even more awakened to the spiritual response of the Dharma; he then imitated its melodic rhythm and transcribed it into Sanskrit chanting, composing texts and arranging the tones, handing it down as a model for later times. The manifestation of Sanskrit chanting in the world began from this. The chanting that he transmitted has six movements in all.

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諸經要集 — Classical Chinese