Table of Contents
Teachings of Master Man Sang: Sutra of the Eight
Realizations of Great Beings
Buddhism in China: Xuanzang
Journeys to the West
Story from the Sutras: Missing Manjusri
Cornucopia: Better to Give Than to
Receive
By
Ven. Yin Chi
At the start of a new year, every
business and profession reviews its performance and plans for the year ahead.
Most people also reflect on past happenings and make arrangements for the
future. The Dharma is closely related to everyday life. As Buddhists, we should
also think about how much effort we have put over the past year into
cultivating good fortune and wisdom. I am reminded of a Buddhist story …
There was an abbot of a monastery who
felt it was time to step down because of his advancing years. He had two
outstanding disciples. To be fair and to gain public approval, the old monk
announced his intention to retire and set a date for an open test to determine
which of his two disciples was better qualified to succeed him as abbot. When
the day arrived, he took the assembly to the back of the monastery. “The test
is very simple,” he said, pointing to a nearby hill with steep, rugged slopes.
“Whoever first reaches the top of that hill is the winner.” The disciples
thought they should express gratitude towards their teacher by showing a
resolve to overcome obstacles, even if they weren’t competing to succeed him.
Although the hill was steep, Disciple A
believed he was strong enough to cope with it. He paid his respects to his
master and headed straight for his target. But the road up the slope was
steeper, more sheer than he thought. However hard he tried to climb it, he kept
sliding back downhill. After a long while, he had only been able to scale a
small part of the slope. His many scratches testified to his great effort. His
confidence plummeted, replaced by despondency.
Disciple B at first followed in A’s
footsteps. He also lost more ground than he gained and faced a perilous
situation. Continuing like that, he thought, he would stand little chance of
success, but to abandon the quest would disappoint his teacher. Faced with this
dilemma, he stopped at a precarious patch on the hillside to think about how he
should proceed. He calmed down and observed the surrounding terrain.
Suddenly, he began carefully to
climb back down to his starting point. He made a few adjustments and made off
for the other side of the hill. Those watching the contest were startled.
Disciple B had failed only a few times – how could he so lightly abandon his
goal without having tried his best? They thought him lacking in a sense of
responsibility, especially compared with Disciple A, who was still struggling
with the slope. For his part, the old abbot calmly closed his eyes to rest his
mind.
A cry suddenly arose in the
distance: “Master, I’ve arrived!” Disciple B had indeed reached the top of the
hill. The old monk signaled for him to return and announced that the new abbot
had been decided. He then asked his disciple to tell the assembly how he
managed to scale the hill.
Disciple B acknowledged frankly that
he at first followed Disciple A, trying just as hard to climb upward. Like his
competitor he repeatedly slipped and bruised himself. Later he wondered how he
could succeed, seeing that even the stronger Disciple A was failing in the
quest to reach the summit. Afraid to leave his teacher’s instruction
unfulfilled, he stopped to look and think quietly.
As he gazed downward, he spotted
near the bottom of the hill the shadow of someone carrying wicker baskets and
descending steadily. He strained to get a closer look, but the form disappeared
around a bend. Disciple B thought: Perhaps there was a hill path over there? So
he carefully descended the steep slope and ran to the other side of the hill.
Indeed, there was a path that led straight to the summit.
This story is very instructive. In
today’s society, many people are concerned only about plowing straight ahead
and climbing upward. Mesmerized by circumstances, they lose their way and only
suffer from greater pressure and vexations. They never review calmly the
environment around them or gaze down. If only we could
let go of our posturing and reflect on the road we’ve taken, it would help us
gauge the situation accurately and discover new vistas, enabling us to lead
successful lives.
There is a well-known Buddhist poem
on planting:
Planting green seedlings in the
fields,
I lower my head – and spy the sky in
the water.
Keeping the six sense organs pure, I
follow the Way;
To take a step back, I realize, is
to go forward.
People are
often enthralled by false phenomena. They think that progress comes only from climbing
up and that the only way to be pro-active is to forge ahead. In fact, the path
of life is smooth as well as rugged. If we adopt a level-headed attitude and
observe our environment with the wisdom of Buddhism, pausing to think when we
should and moving ahead or retreating as appropriate, we will naturally break
new ground.
As the New
Year approaches, may we be blessed by the Three Gems, use the wisdom of the
Dharma to lead harmonious and happy lives, and put our practice on the path to
enlightenment.
Sutra of the Eight Realizations of
Great Beings
THE
SEVENTH REALIZATION: To be aware that the five
desires lead to nothing but trouble. Though ordinary people, we do not immerse ourselves
in the pleasures of the world. Always on our minds are a monk’s garments, a
clay bowl and ritual instruments. We set our minds on leaving the householder’s
life and following the Dharma. We live a clean, pure and dignified life, and
are compassionate to all.
Last time,
we spoke about how pursuit of the five desires of form, sound, smell, taste and
touch can lead to trouble. Now we will discuss problems relating to wealth,
sex, fame, food and sleep.
Wealth – who
is not fond of it? Despite liking wealth, a superior person obtains it
ethically. As for sexual desire, Confucius said: “Food and sex are basic to
human nature.” Despite a fondness for sex, a superior person partakes of it
with propriety. Fame – everyone hopes to
have a good reputation. As for food, it was originally seen as something
essential to sustain life. And sleep allows rest, which is indispensable to the
restoration of body and spirit. Seen in this light, the five desires are
necessary to human beings. But their excessive pursuit, beyond our basic needs,
entraps us with countless negative consequences.
Wealth-related troubles: One day, Ananda was following the Buddha on the road to a village.
Suddenly the Buddha said, “Poisonous snake! There’s a venomous snake over
there!” Ananda took a look; he saw a pile of gold.
“That’s gold,” he said. “Why do you say it’s a poisonous snake?” The Buddha
replied, “It’s definitely a poisonous snake! Let’s walk around it.”
A farmer
overheard their conversation. Curious, he went to investigate. It was indeed
gold … why did that monk call it a poisonous snake? The peasant was overjoyed
as he took the gold home. He was rich, so he built himself a large house to
enjoy. Other people were suspicious – How come the farmer was suddenly rich?
Concluding that he must have stolen the money, they reported him to the
authorities.
The farmer
could only admit that he had picked up the gold. His assets were confiscated,
and he was jailed for failing to report his discovery. “No wonder the Buddha
called it a poisonous snake,” the farmer sighed. “If I hadn’t picked it up, I
wouldn’t now be suffering in prison.”
Sex-related troubles: History provides
countless examples of people who lost their reputations or met with disaster
because of their lust. They include King Zhou of the Shang Dynasty and his
desire for Tanji, King You of the Zhou Dynasty for Baosi, and Emperor Xuanzong for
Consort Yang (Guifei). They all lost their kingdoms
or families as a result of their pursuit of sexual pleasure.
Food-related troubles: A Buddhist gatha goes like this: “Since time
immemorial, a bowl of soup has contained implacable hatreds as deep as the sea.
To understand the world’s calamities, we need only listen to sounds from the
slaughterhouse at midnight.” It refers to all the beings killed to satisfy
people’s craving for meat. The slaughter creates heavy negative karma, which
must be repaid with lives!
Troubles relating to fame and sleep: In
the time of the Buddha, a certain monk would eat his fill, close the door of
his room and indulge himself in sleep. The Buddha saw that he had only seven
days to live. Worried that the monk might fall into the Three Wretched Realms
because of his sloth, he went inside the room to try and save him.
Seeing the
monk fast asleep, the Buddha berated him: “ Get up quickly! Why are you still
sleeping? Such behavior makes you resemble the parasites on the bodies of
cattle and horses. You are also like a conch, a clam or a vermin. Since you
don’t realize that our bodies are the cause of all suffering, you hide in that
which is not clean. A Dharma practitioner must not be lazy and overly fond of
sleep …”
The Buddha’s
voice was like thunder in the monk’s ear. He got up, startled. “Do you know
your karma from past lives?” the World-Honored One asked him. The monk shook
his head anxiously. The Buddha compassionately told him: “You also took
monastic vows then. But you cared less about your practice than fame and
advantage. After your death, you became a parasite for 50,000 years, then a
conch, a clam and a tree parasite for another 50,000 years each. These ignorant
creatures lived in dark, sheltered places and were devoid of wisdom, long
ensnared in a web of negative karma!
“Today you
have finally worked off your offenses and achieved fortunate rebirth as a human
being, even taking vows and practicing as a monk. Why fall into the same trap
again? By indulging in sleep, you only risk toppling into the Wretched Realms
once more.”
The Buddha’s words made the monk shiver. He was fully contrite. Thenceforth, he focused his mind exclusively on his practice. By dint of his diligence, he achieved Arhathood and forever escaped the suffering of further rebirth.
Xuanzang Journeys to the West
Early on Master Xuanzang
was inclined towards studying works of the Yogacara (Mind-Only) school, though
the texts weren’t complete. Although the
tradition of the Yogacarabhumi Sastra (Discourse
on the Stages of Yogic Practice) was passed on, Xuanzang
sensed that some of the key texts were missing. It occurred to him to go to
India to bring back Buddhist scriptures. After all, Master Faxian
had travelled there during the Eastern Jin Dynasty to fetch similar documents.
Since
Xuanzang already wanted to travel to the Western
regions (Central Asia), why not go on to India to obtain the original texts? So
he resolved to go there to study and collect scriptures, thereby making the
entire Yogacara canon available in China. Together with a like-minded group of
young monks, Xuanzang made preparations to leave his
country in his quest.
In
those days, going abroad to study wasn’t an easy matter. Not only must the
aspirant raise the necessary funds himself, he faced many hardships en route
to his destination. But those factors were secondary; most important was the
fact that the Tang Dynasty had just been established and its rulers’ biggest
worry was their powerful neighboring peoples. As a result, national-security
measures were especially strict. It wasn’t easy to leave or enter the country,
and special permits were required.
Master
Xuanzang received no response to his repeated
applications to go abroad. Day to day, year in and year out, the young monks
waited in vain for approval to travel in search of scriptures. Their initial
enthusiasm faded after a few years. This can’t go on, Xuanzang
thought; he must find some way to leave China.
As
a famine struck, Xuanzang mixed with the legions of
displaced people who were wandering around, searching for food. In this way he
crossed over the border, accompanied by only a few of his original monastic
comrades. They had a tough journey ahead. There were checkpoints everywhere,
and they had to stretch their wits to get past each one. Sometimes they even
had to hide themselves during daytime and travel only at night. They faced many
obstacles and endured much hardship.
As
the group passed through the kingdom of Qara-hoja
(near today’s Turfan in Xinjiang), the local monarch
took a fancy to Master Xuanzang. He detained the
monk, asking him to give Dharma discourses and to teach him the scriptures –
anything, so long as he didn’t leave. Having taken such pains to get out of
China, Xuanzang thought, it wouldn’t do to stay there
long. In the end he overcame many difficulties and left Qara-hoja.
The
road to India was fraught with difficulties and there were all kinds of
surprises. The few monks who accompanied Xuanzang
turned back; in fact, some even let it be known that they were ready to kill
him just so they could go home. Dogged by such adverse circumstances Xuanzang pressed on alone, trying to cross the Gobi Desert.
In the desolate sands, where no vegetation grew, the sun beat down mercilessly
and the nights were frigid, he proceeded west by following a trail formed by
the bones of earlier traders. Their remains marked out a path that humans once
traveled.
Once,
Xuanzang almost died of dehydration. But, he thought,
whether he went on or turned back, he would have to keep moving. So he decided
to go forward. He made a vow: “May I die on the road west, rather than retrace
my steps back east.” Perhaps his sincere resolve moved the Bodhisattvas. At the
moment of maximum peril he came upon an oasis, enabling him to escape danger.
So
it was that Master Xuanzang overcame countless
hardships and crossed the desert and the Himalayan mountains by himself.
Eventually, he arrived at India’s most famous monastery – the Buddhist
university at Nalanda.
Missing Manjusri
“Compassionate
Bodhisattva Manjusri, your disciple Galovada sincerely asks you to manifest yourself and help
him achieve great wisdom.” Galovada wanted to have
the profound wisdom of Manjusri. Whenever he visited
a temple, he would ask the Bodhisattva to show himself and empower him. He
would resolutely make reverences before Manjusri’s
image, bedecked with garlands, riding a lion and holding aloft the sword of
wisdom.
One day Galovada prepared a sumptuous vegetarian banquet to offer
the monastic assembly. At the head of the table, he placed a large, ornate
chair, hoping that Bodhisattva Manjusri would be
moved to accept his offering in person. Among the monks who came up was a lame,
unprepossessing old man who wore his tattered and uneven robes sloppily. He
face looked dirty. One step at a time, he limped towards the luxurious chair
and got ready to sit in it.
When he saw
that, Galovada thought: “This chair is reserved for
the esteemed Bodhisattva Manjusri. How can we allow a
slovenly old beggar to sit there?” He quickly went up and pulled the old man
from the seat and asked him to eat by the side of the table. Before long, the
old man began limping towards the chair again.
“What,
again?” Galovada dragged him away once more. Soon
enough, the old man took the seat again. The tussle continued for seven rounds.
After that, the old man did not return to the seat but found a place in a
corner and sat down. Galovada heaved a sigh of
relief.
Having fed
the monks, Galovada went back to the temple. He made
reverences and said: “I, Galovada, sincerely dedicate
the merit of my offering: May I be able to see Bodhisattva Manjusri
in this lifetime, so he may help me attain great wisdom.”
Having
busied himself all day long, Galovada fell into a
deep sleep as soon as he got home. In a dream he saw the longed-for Bodhisattva
Manjusri. “Hadn’t you wanted day and night to see
me?” Manjusri asked him. “Didn’t you want me to
accept your offering? To satisfy your wish, I went in person today to your
banquet. Yet you kept pulling away the chair. This happened seven times. So as
not to trouble you any further, I retreated to a corner to take my meal.”
Galovada awoke with a start. He thought back to the
banquet: That old man who had been so determined to take the seat of honor– he
was Manjusri! Just when the Bodhisattva
compassionately manifested himself, Galovada not only
neglected to pay his respects but failed to recognize him and asked him
repeatedly to vacate the chair! The more he mulled the episode, the more
agitated and regretful he became.
“Alas,” Galovada sighed. “Because of my habit of judging by outward
appearances, I missed the chance to see a great teacher. Wasn’t the manner of Manjusri’s manifestation today a lesson to me not to judge
people by their appearances? It’s the education of our mind and nature that is
genuinely valuable. True wisdom is to be able to face all kinds of
circumstances without attachment.”
Better to Give
Than to Receive
For half a
year after graduating, the child of a friend of mine did not seek work. He remained
at home all day long, sleeping in the daytime and surfing the internet at
night. Recently he asked his parents for money to go on a study tour of the
United States. My friend sought my opinion. “If you really want your child to
do well,” I said, gazing at his white hair, “let him go, but don’t give him any
money.” The incident reminded me of a story involving the husband of my younger
sister.
My
brother-in-law is an American. Since he was young, he had wanted to become a
seaman. He yearned for the outside world and longed to travel around the globe
before continuing his studies. Though his father was a doctor and his family
circumstances permitted it, his parents did not give him the money to do so –
nor did he ask for it. After graduating from high school, he went to Alaska to
chop wood so he could save money.
The
summer days in Alaska were long. Because the sun set at midnight and rose at 3
a.m., the young man could work 16 hours a day. At that rate the money he earned
in a single season was enough to fund his globe-trotting for three seasons.
So
my brother-in-law spent two years traveling before resuming his studies in
university. And because he had thoroughly considered the subject he would
study, he was able to earn enough credits to complete the four-year course in
three years and get a job. His career path was smooth and he eventually rose to
become chief engineer. He told me about an incident that influenced the course
of his life …
When
he was working in Alaska, my brother-in-law once went into the hills with a
friend. There they heard a wolf howling. They anxiously searched the environs,
and discovered that the sounds came from a she-wolf whose leg was clamped in a
trap. One look at the strangely shaped device and he knew it belonged to an old
workman. The man, who trapped wolves and sold their fur to supplement his
income, had just had a heart attack and was flown by helicopter to a hospital
in Anchorage. As no one was attending to her, the trapped wolf was starving to
death.
My
brother-in-law wanted to free the animal, but she was aggressive and he was
unable to approach. Because the wolf was lactating, he reckoned there must be
some cubs in a nearby den. He and his companion found the den after much effort
and brought four cubs to their mother, so they could feed and avoid starvation.
He gave his own food to the mother to keep her alive. When night fell, the pair
camped nearby to watch over the family of wolves, as the trapped mother was
incapable of self-defense.
When
my brother-in-law went up to do his feeding, he saw that the mother wolf was
wagging its tail gently. He knew he was beginning to gain her trust. Another
three days passed before the animal would let him approach close enough to free
her from the trap. After regaining her liberty, the mother wolf licked his hand
and let him apply medication to her leg. Then she led her cubs away, glancing
back at him all the while.
My
brother-in-law sat on a rock and thought: If a person could befriend a fierce
wolf and make it lick his hand, surely he could persuade another human to lay
down arms and befriend him? He decided that from then on, he would always
behave sincerely towards others. From this incident he learned that if one
showed sincerity, it would be reciprocated. (If not, he joked, we would be
worse than animals.)
So
my brother-in-law always treated his colleagues sincerely. He would assume good
intentions on their part, then explain his own actions. He constantly helped
others and was never calculating. He received a promotion every year and rose
quickly in the company’s ranks. Most important, he passed each day happily, as
one is much happier helping others than being helped. Though he didn’t know the
Chinese saying “better to give than to receive,” he was living its teaching.
My
brother-in-law told me he was very grateful for his experience in Alaska, for
its lessons would serve him all his life.
Indeed,
we value only those things that we want. And just as the only sweet persimmons
are those that have been exposed to frost, people mature only after they have
undergone life’s trials.
If
a person still doesn’t know what he wants after graduating from university, we
should let him go into the world to test himself. Rather than give him cash, we
should allow him to make his own living. He should be given the chance to prove
himself and to experience life. Then he should be able to learn things that
will serve him well his entire life.
- From
the internet