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Buddha Taught, Blog, Books

What the Buddha Taught

what-the-buddha-taught-bookcoverIn 1959 Walpola Sri Rahula published a concise summary of the teachings of the Buddha. The Rev. Dr. Rahula, 1907-1997, was a trained Buddhist monk in Sri Lanka. As explained by Paul Demieville in the Foreword:

The book … is a luminous account, within reach of everybody, of the fundamental principles of the Buddhist doctrine, as they are found in the most ancient texts, which are called ‘The Tradition’ (Āgama) in Sanskrit and “The Canonic Corpus’ (Nikāya) in Pali.

As Rahula explains in his Preface:

I have tried in this little book to address myself first of all to the educated and intelligent general reader, uninstructed in the subject who would like to know what the Buddha actually taught. For his benefit I have aimed at giving briefly, and as directly and simply as possible, a faithful and accurate account of the actual words used by the Buddha as they are to be found in the original Pali texts of the Tripiṭaka, universally accepted by the scholars as the earliest extant records of the teachings of the Buddha.

In 1974 a second edition was published which added a number of selected sutras.

Personally, as a follower of Nichiren, I have read this book from the perspective of the teachings of the Lotus Sutra. I have set aside a number of quotes from the book which I will be publishing daily through June 12. I’ve selected these quotes as explanations of the foundational teachings of the Buddha.

However, some of what Rahula teaches is problematic for me as a devotee of Japanese Buddhism. In addressing the Buddha’s spirit of tolerance, Rahula writes:

In the third century B.C., the great Buddhist Emperor Asoka of India, following this noble example of tolerance and understanding, honored and supported all other religions in his vast empire. In one of his Edicts carved on rock, the original of which one may read even today, the Emperor declared:

‘One should not honor only one’s own religion and condemn the religions of others, but one should honor others’ religions for this or that reason. So doing, one helps one’s own religion to grow and renders service to the religions of others too. In acting otherwise one digs the grave of one’s own religion and also does harm to other religions. Whosoever honors his own religion and condemns other religions, does so indeed through devotion to his own religion, thinking “I will glorify my own religion.” But on the contrary, in so doing he injures his own religion more gravely. So concord is good: Let all listen, and be willing to listen to the doctrines professed by others.

We should add here that this spirit of sympathetic understanding should be applied today not only in the matter of religious doctrine, but elsewhere as well.

This spirit of tolerance and understanding has been from the beginning one of the most cherished ideals of Buddhist culture and civilization. That is why there is not a single example of persecution or the shedding of a drop of blood in converting people to Buddhism, or in its propagation during its long history of 2500 years. It spread peacefully all over the continent of Asia, having more than 500 million adherents today. Violence in any form, under any pretext whatsoever, is absolutely against the teaching of the Buddha.

What the Buddha Taught, p4-5

It may be true that “Violence in any form, under any pretext whatsoever, is absolutely against the teaching of the Buddha,” but that was not the experience in Japan. As the History of Japanese Religion by Masaharu Anesaki points out, the Tendai soldier monks of Mount Hiei felt compelled to pick up arms and battle Nichiren’s followers.

The last and bitterest of the combats was fought in Miyako in 1536, when the soldier-monks of Hiei in alliance with the Ikkō fanatics attacked the Nichirenites and burnt down twenty-one of their great temples in the capital and drove them out of the city. Shouts of “Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō,” the slogan of the Nichirenites, vied with “Namu Amida Butsu,” the prayer of the Ikkō men; many died on either side, each believing that the fight was fought for the glory of Buddha and that death secured his birth in paradise.

History of Japanese Religion

Again, as a follower of Nichiren and the Lotus Sutra, I stumble when I encounter discussions of “Truth.”

Early in the book The Rev. Dr. Rahula addresses this topic:

The question has often been asked: Is Buddhism a religion or a philosophy? It does not matter what you call it. Buddhism remains what it is whatever label you may put on it. The label is immaterial. Even the label ‘Buddhism,’ which we give to the teaching of the Buddha, is of little importance. The name one gives it is inessential.

What’s in a name?
That which we call a rose,
By any other name would smell as sweet.

In the same way Truth needs no label: it is neither Buddhist, Christian, Hindu nor Moslem. It is not the monopoly of anybody. Sectarian labels are a hindrance to the independent understanding of Truth, and they produce harmful prejudices in men’s minds.

What the Buddha Taught, p5

A few pages later The Rev. Dr. Rahula underscores this with the words of the Buddha:

Asked by the young Brahmin to explain the idea of maintaining or protecting truth, the Buddha said: ‘A man has a faith. If he says “This is my faith,” so far he maintains truth. But by that he cannot proceed to the absolute conclusion: “This alone is Truth, and everything else is false.” In other words, a man may believe what he likes, and he may say ‘I believe this.’ So far he respects truth. But because of his belief or faith, he should not say that what he believes is alone the Truth, and everything else is false.

The Buddha says: ‘To be attached to one thing (to a certain view) and to look down upon other things (views) as inferior — this the wise men call a ‘fetter.’

What the Buddha Taught, p10-11

Is it a “fetter” to hold that the Lotus Sutra is the supreme teaching of the Buddha, that it encompasses and embraces all of the provisional lessons taught before it?

I will leave it at “This is my faith.”

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Handsome Nanda

This continues my discussion of the epic poems of Aśvaghoṣa

asvaghosa-handsome-nandaAśvaghoṣa’s Handsome Nanda is a detailed explanation of how a rich, handsome, happily married young man was persuaded to give it all up to venture upon the good path.

(As this point of the story, Nanda has been told he is to become a monk but Nanda refuses. He is brought to the Buddha, who says:)

What is more, you have seen the flaws of family life, and you have heard of the bliss of giving it up; yet still you have no mind to leave your home, like a death-desiring man who will not leave a place of plague. How can you be so fixated with the wasteland of samsara that you have no urge to venture upon the good path, even when you have been set on that very path? You are like a merchant who has wandered from his caravan!

Only a man who is so stupid that he would settle down to sleep in a house ablaze on all sides, rather than escaping from it, would be oblivious to the world burning with the fire of time, with its flames of disease and old age. It is dreadful that a convicted man being led out for execution should be drunk, laughing and babbling; so too is it dreadful that a man should be careless and contrary-minded while Death stands by with a noose in his hand. When kings and householders have gone, are going and will go forth, leaving behind their relatives and possessions, you give consideration to incidental loves!

Handsome Nanda, p107

Again the Burning House allusion.

Eventually, Nanda is convinced to give up his beautiful wife in exchange for a promise that if he agrees to take vows and follows the path he will be rewarded in heaven where the ápsarases – heavenly beings more beautiful than his wife – will attend him. The futility of this goal is explained to Nanda by Ananda:

́”I understand from your expression your motive in practicing dharma, and knowing it, I am moved to both laughter and compassion on your account. Just as someone would carry a heavy rock on his shoulder to use as a seat, likewise you are laboring to uphold the rules of restraint for the sake of sensual indulgence! Just as a wild ram draws back when he is about to charge, likewise this celibacy of yours is undertaken for the sake of sex. Just as businessmen like to buy goods to make a profit, so you practice dharma as an article for trade, not to become peaceful. Just as a farmer scatters seed to produce a particular fruit, likewise you have let go of sense objects because of your weakness for them.

You are seeking out suffering with your thirst for sensory experience, as though someone would want to be ill just to enjoy the pleasure of a remedy. Just as a man looking for honey does not notice a precipice, so in your focus on the ápsarases you do not see your resulting fall. What is this celibacy of yours? While your heart is ablaze with the fire of lust, you carry out your observances with your body only, and are not celibate in your mind.

Handsome Nanda, p219

I particularly enjoyed the line: “Just as businessmen like to buy goods to make a profit, so you practice dharma as an article for trade, not to become peaceful.” Reminds me of my days in Soka Gakkai: Need something? Chant. Not getting it quick enough? Chant more.

Once Nanda realizes that trading lust for his wife for lust for ápsarases is not a bargain, he goes to see the Buddha. After Nanda explains his change of heart, the Buddha says:

“Oh! This comprehension is the presursor of Excellence arising in you, just as when a firestick is rotated, smoke arises as a precursor of fire.”

Handsome Nanda, p233

The Buddha goes on to explain the role “faith” plays:

When a man believes there is water underground, and is in need of it, then he digs the earth assiduously. If a man doesn’t need a fire, or if he does not believe that fire comes from firesticks, then he would not rotate the firesticks; but when that condition is true, he rotates them. And if a farmer did not believe that corn is produced from the earth, or if he had no need of corn, he would not sow seeds in the ground.

That is why I refer to faith particularly as ‘the hand,’ since it reaches out to the true dharma like an unimpaired hand reaches out for a gift. It is described as ‘the sense organ’ because of its prevalence, and as ‘strong’ because of its persistence, and as ‘wealth’ because it allays the impoverishment of virtue. It is declared to be ‘the arrow’ by reason of its protection of the dharma, and it is named ‘the jewel’ because it is so hard to find in this world. What is more, it is said to be ‘the seed,’ since it causes the arising of Excellence; again, it is called ‘the river’ because it cleanses wickedness.

As faith is the primary factor in the arising of dharma, I have called it different names on various occasions due to its effects. Therefore you should nurture this shoot of faith; when it grows, dharma grows, just as a tree grows when its roots grow. When a man’s vision is blurred and he is weak in resolve, his faith wavers, for it is not operating towards its proper outcome.

As long as reality is not seen or heard, faith is not firm or strongly fixed. But when a man’s senses are governed by the rules of restraint and he sees reality, then the tree of faith is fruitful and supportive.

Handsome Nanda, p237-239

I could have used this definition of faith in my 800 Years of Faith project.

But faith without action has little value. In the chapter describing the Noble Truths, Nanda learns about applying himself to the path.

Just as a substance may be pungent in flavor yet when eaten ripe may prove to be sweet, so an endeavor may be hard in its execution but when it ripens through the accomplishment of its aims, prove to be sweet. Endeavor is paramount, for it is the foundation of doing what needs to be done, and without endeavor there would be no accomplishment at all. All success in the world arises from endeavor, and if there were no endeavor evil would be complete.

Men without endeavor won’t acquire what has not yet been acquired, and they are bound to lose what has been acquired. They experience self-contempt, wretchedness, the scorn of their superiors, mental darkness, lack of brilliance, and a loss of learning, restraint and contentment; a great fall awaits them. When a competent person hears the method but makes no progress, when he knows the supreme dharma but wins no higher estate, when he leaves his home but finds no peace in freedom—the reason for this is his own laziness, and not an enemy.

Handsome Nanda, p313

For me, the discussions covering the law of cause and effect have the deepest resonance. Here are some examples:

The reason for this suffering during one’s active life in the world is not a God, not nature, not time, not the inherent nature of things, not predestination, not accident, but the hosts of faults such as desire. You must understand thereby that man’s active life continues because of its faults. It follows that people who are subject to passion and mental darkness die repeatedly, while someone free from passion and mental darkness is not born again.

Handsome Nanda, p289

Since individuality is produced by conditions, and there is no maker or thinker, and individual activity arises from a network of causes, Nanda saw that this world is empty.

Since the world is not self-dependent and has no power to set things in motion, and no one exercises sovereignty in actions, and since states of existence arise in dependence on all sorts of things, he understood that the world was without self.

Then, like feeling a cool breeze from fanning oneself during the hot season, or like getting fire that is latent in wood by rubbing sticks together, or like finding underground water by digging for it, he reached the hard-to-reach supramundane path.

With his bow of true knowledge, binding on his armor of mindfulness, standing in his chariot of pure vows of moral self-restraint, he stood determined to fight for victory against his enemy, the defilements, which were ranged in the battlefield of his mind. Holding the sharp weapon of the constituents of enlightenment, and standing on the excellent chariot of well-directed effort, with his army which consisted of the elephants of the constituents of the path, he gradually penetrated the ranks of the defilements. With the arrows of the four foundations of mindfulness, each with its own range of application, in an instant he burst apart the four enemies which consist of distorted views, the causes of suffering.

Handsome Nanda, p325

For he who understands that while a particular activity in the here and now is not caused by something else, it is also not without cause, and who recognizes that everything is dependent on a variety of things—he sees the ultimate noble dharma. And he who sees that dharma is tranquil, benign, without age or passion, and unexcelled, and sees that its teacher, Buddha, is the best of the noble ones—he has won insight.

Handsome Nanda, p327

As a postscript I offer this:

Just as a light which is extinguished does not travel to the earth or the sky, nor to the directions or any intermediate directions but, because its oil is used up, merely ceases, so he who has reached nirvana travels not to the earth, not to the sky, nor to any of the directions or intermediate directions, but, because his defilements have ended, just attains peace.

Handsome Nanda, p291

I hope this is my experience when I finally “shuffle off this mortal coil.”

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Aśvaghoṣa’s Epic Poems

I’ve beeen on something of an Aśvaghoṣa kick for the last couple of weeks. I picked up the Clay Sanskrit Library’s Life of the Buddha (Buddhacarita) translated by Patrick Olivelle and published in 2009. This is Aśvaghoṣa’s biography of the Buddha, beginning with his descent from the Tuṣita Heaven into the womb of Queen Maya until his death. I followed that with Handsome Nanda, in which Aśvaghoṣa details the reluctant conversion of Nanda, the Buddha’s half-brother. Linda Covill did the Clay Sanskrit Library’s translation of Handsome Nanda. It was published in 2007.

asvaghosa-life-of-the-buddhaThe Life of the Buddha offered a number of tidbits I wanted to keep here. For example, why Queen Maya died seven days after the birth of Siddhārtha:

But when queen Maya saw the immense might of her son, like that of a seer divine,
she could not bear the delight it caused her; so she departed to dwell in heaven.

Life of the Buddha, p43

Then there’s Aśvaghoṣa’s explanation for Rāhula’s name. Traditionally, it is said the Buddha named his son Rāhula because his son was a fetter or chain to hold him back from the path to enlightenment. Aśvaghoṣa instead suggests Rāhula’s grandfather named him:

Then in time Yashodhara, the “bearer of fame,” bearing alluring breasts and bearing her own fame, begot a son for Śuddhodana’s son, a son who had a face like Rahu’s foe, a son who was, indeed, named Rāhula.

Life of the Buddha, p53

As Olivelle explains in the notes: Rahu was the celestial demon responsible for the eclipses of the sun and the moon.

I was also caught by this reference to escaping a burning house, which plays such a large role in the Lotus Sutra. At this point Siddhārtha has asked his father to allow him to become an ascetic:

To his son making such a hard request, the king of the Śākyas made this response:
“Withdraw this your request, it is inordinate;
An extravagant wish is improper and extreme.”

Then that one, mighty as Meru, told his father:
“If that’s not possible, don’t hold me back;
for it is not right to obstruct a man,
Who’s trying to escape from a burning house.”

Life of the Buddha, p141

Another interesting aspects of Olivelle’s translation is his decision not to translate the word dharma.

One departure from my other translations of Sanskrit texts concerns the pivotal concept of dharma. In my other translations I have regularly translated all Sanskrit terms, including dharma. In Aśvaghoṣa’s vocabulary and argument, however, dharma is used deliberately with so many meanings and nuances that it would have been futile to capture these varying significations in the translation; English does not have a sufficiently rich vocabulary for this purpose. Therefore, I have kept the words dharma and its opposite a/dharma in the translation, inviting thereby the reader to see the different contexts and meanings of this central term.

Olivelle says in his Introduction:

It is within this context of inquiry and debate that we must see the controversies surrounding dharma. Aśvaghoṣa presents the arguments from the Buddhist and the Brahmanical sides as a controversy centered on the correct definition of dharma. It is not so much that some definitions of dharma are considered false. Aśvaghoṣa presents the array of meanings in which his interlocutors used the term, all of them legitimate at some level. What he wants to emphasize, however, is that no dharma can prevent the pursuit of the highest dharma, the dharma that Siddhārtha pursues, the dharma that he preaches once he has become the Buddha. Lower level conceptions of dharma cannot be obstacles on the path to the highest dharma, the “true dharma” of Buddhism called saddharma.

And, of course, it is the Saddharma which is revealed in the Saddharma Pundarika – the Wonderful Law of the Lotus Flower Sutra.

Tomorrow: The Training of Nanda

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Writing Devotion to the Lotus Sutra

And so I again return to the topic of Namu vs. Nam in writing the devotional chant followers of Nichiren voice.

I’m not talking about what I chant. Sometimes I chant “Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō” and sometimes it sounds like “Nam Myōhō Renge Kyō.” My son, who was raised under Soka Gakkai influence, soothes his 14-month-old son by chanting “Nam Myōhō Renge Kyō.” I don’t have a problem with that.

But I want the written Odaimoku – the Sacred Title – to be “Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō.”

The Chinese character “Na” or 南 means South. “Mu” or 無 means Nothing. As explained in Journey to the Path of Righteousness:

Characters used in this manner are commonly referred to as non-characters because the meaning of the characters is considered inconsequential. Rather, in this case, this is the transliteration of the Sanskrit word “Namah,” and can be defined as devotion (Kimyo or Kie). Two common definitions for these are: “I ask of” and “I offer up my life to”.

Journey of the Path to Righteousness, p 24-25

Soka Gakkai openly admits that “‘Nam’ is a phonetic contraction of ‘Namu.'” (See Note 117 here. Having adopted “Nam” as the spoken contraction, the SGI editors backed themselves into a corner when writing about the Nembutsu.

Because I, Nichiren, chant and spread Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, the power of Namu-Amida-butsu will be like a moon waning, a tide running out, grass withering in autumn and winter, or ice melting in the sun. Watch and see!

concise-history-buddhism-bookcoverI’ve covered this before. What brings this up now is Andrew Skilton’s “A Concise History of Buddhism,” a survey of the history of Buddhism that includes a section on Buddhism Beyond India.

In his discussion of Buddhism in Japan he offers a concise description of the Kamakura period. Speaking of Hōnen’s Pure Land school, he says on page 180:

Dissatisfied with the Tendai teachings of Mount Hiei, Hōnen eventually discovered the work of a previous Japanese Pure Land Buddhist, Genshin, and that of the Chinese teacher Shan-tao. Under the combined impact of these two he began to teach that salvation was only possible through the recitation, with faith, of Amida’s name, i.e. the nembutsu — Namu Amida Butsu. All other practices were secondary to this, for in the present corrupt age no one is capable of attaining Enlightenment through their own efforts, jiriki, but is in reality totally dependent upon the compassionate ‘other-power’, tariki, of Amida.

Skilton offers a reasonable description of Nichiren on page 181:

The last of the new schools to be discussed here had no foreign precedent, and therefore could be seen as the most Japanese development. This grew from the teaching of Nichiren (1222-82). Though trained as a Tendai monk, Nichiren was profoundly distressed by the appalling disasters, both natural and political, that characterized the Japan of his day, and felt that a different approach to spiritual practice was necessary. He came to the conclusion that these disasters were due to the disappearance of the true teaching of Buddhism from the land, and that, for Japan to survive, this true teaching had to be reintroduced. He identified the true teaching with the eternal Śākyamuni Buddha of the Lotus Sūtra, and asserted the identity of Śākyamuni Buddha both with the Lotus Sūtra itself and with all sentient beings. Furthermore, he went so far as to claim that all other forms of Buddhist practice were positively harmful, and agitated for their suppression by the rulers for the sake of the well-being of Japan. He identified himself with the Bodhisattva Viśiṣṭacāritra, praised in the Lotus Sūtra by the Buddha as the Bodhisattva who will restore the true teaching after its future disappearance. Since he was repeatedly persecuted for his views and eventually exiled to the island of Sado, he also identified himself with the persecuted Bodhisattva, Sadāparibhūta, from the same sūtra.

But then Skilton says:

The main spiritual practice advocated by Nichiren was the recitation of the daimoku, Nam myō hō renge kyō, ‘Homage to the Lotus Sūtra’. Nichirenism was to become popular among members of the merchant class.

I had a similar problem at the beginning of the year with Roger J. Corless’ “A Vision of Buddhism.” At least in his case he attempted to write the spoken contraction, offering Nam’Myo-Ho-Ren-Ge-Kyo.

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An Historian’s View of the Tatsunokuchi Persecution

The Danforth Lecture in the Study of Religion featuring Jacqueline Stone, Professor Emerita, recorded Nov. 30, 2023

The Priest Nichiren’s Miraculous Escape from Death and Its Modern Skeptics: Negotiating History and Myth in a Japanese Buddhist Tradition

In the year 1271, the dissident Buddhist teacher Nichiren was arrested by officials of Japan’s warrior government and taken under cover of night to the execution grounds. Tradition holds that his attempted beheading was foiled when a luminous object suddenly shot across the sky, terrifying his would-be executioners. For more than seven hundred years, this dramatic episode has been celebrated in hagiographies, paintings, kabuki plays, woodblock prints, novels, and manga. In recent times, however, its historicity has been questioned; naturalistic explanations for the “luminous object” have also been proposed. These responses invite reflection on the hermeneutic shifts that occur when religious accounts of miraculous events are assessed by modern critical and scientific standards. They also raise challenging questions about what responsibility the historian of religion bears in analyzing a tradition’s foundational narratives.

The original video with the introductions and Q&A session is available here.

bu-ston, Innumerable, Blog

Why the Buddha Teaches

In the Sutra of Innumerable Meanings, the first chapter is my favorite. First is the description of how Bodhisattvas turn the wheel of the Dharma:

They are able, moreover, to clearly perceive conditioned desires of the senses. By means of Dharma-grasping empowerments (dhāraṇīs), and with unlimited facility of eloquence, they call upon the Buddha to turn a wheel of the Dharma; emulating him, they are able to turn it as well. They first bring it down in tiny drops that dissolve the dirt of delusive passions. They open nirvana’s gates and fan winds of emancipation—dispelling the world’s fevers and trials with the cool refreshment of the Dharma. Next, raining down the deeply profound twelve-linked chain of dependent origination (pratītyasamutpāda), they drench the intense solar fires of assembled sufferings of ignorance, illness, aging, and death. Then, pouring the supreme Great Vehicle to overflowing, they immerse and soak the various roots of goodness that living beings possess, cast seeds of goodness widely over fields of beneficial effects, and inspire all beings everywhere to germinate the sprout of enlightenment.

But more important is the revelation of our role – the role of those who are suffering – in encouraging the Buddha to return and teach after his attainment of enlightenment:

Great One! Most Venerable Fully Awakened Master!
You are without stain, contamination, or attachment!
Nurturer of human and heavenly beings!
Tamer of elephants and horses!
You infuse the fragrance of virtue into all things by means of the winds of the Way!
You are serene in wisdom, calm in emotion, composed in deep reflection,
And—volition extinguished, discriminations set aside—likewise tranquil in mind.
You have forever cast away delusive ideas, reflections, and thoughts—
No more to become entangled in all the facets of existence.
What you embody is not existing, and yet not nonexistent;
Is neither direct nor indirect cause; has no sense of self or other;
Is neither square nor round; is not brief or long;
Neither appears nor disappears; is without origination or cessation;
Is neither created nor self-arisen, nor is it produced;
Neither sits nor lies down; does not walk or stand; Neither moves nor turns; is not static or idle;
Neither advances nor retreats; is not imperiled or secure;
Neither is, nor is not; has no gain or loss;
Is neither here nor there; does not come or go;
Is neither blue nor yellow; is not red or white;
Is not crimson, is not purple or multicolored;
Comes forth from the perfection of behavioral principles, concentration, discernment, emancipation, and perspective that pertains to emancipation;
Rises from three kinds of transcendent knowledge, the six transcendent powers, and the avenues to enlightenment;
Emanates from kindness, compassion, ten capabilities, and dauntlessness;
And emerges according to the good karmic actions of living beings.

I was deeply disappointed with Rissho Kōsei-kai’s “modern” translation of this sutra, which changed that last line to read:

And he comes forth as a result of his good karma as a living being.”

I wrote about this two years ago. What brings this up now is something I read in “The History of Buddhism in India and Tibet,” which was written by the 14th century Tibetan scholar Bu-ston and translated into English by Eugene Obermiller in 1932.

Now, (in reality) the Lord, having extirpated the force which calls forth speech, has attained Enlightenment in perfect silence and then, up to the time of his attaining Nirvāṇa, has not uttered a single word. But, in accordance with the thoughts (and the needs) of the living beings, he appears as if teaching (the Doctrine) in various forms, as it is said:

A cymbal on a magic circle
Issues its sounds, being agitated by the wind,
And although there is nothing with which it is beaten,
Its sound is nevertheless heard.
Similar is the voice of the Buddha which arises,
Being called forth by the thoughts of the living beings,
And owing to their previous virtuous deeds.
But the Buddha (himself) has no constructive thought
(By which his words could be conditioned).

The voice of the Buddha is therefore something inconceivable for our mind.

The Teacher has thus perceived the living beings subjected to suffering, being obscured by the pellicule of ignorance, tied by the knot of egocentristic views, suppressed by the mountain of pride, consumed by the fire of desire, wounded by the weapons of hatred, cast into the wilderness of Saṃsāra, and unable to cross the streams of birth, old age, illness, and death. And, in order to deliver them (from this suffering), from between his teeth resembling a beautiful sonant conch-shell, he stretched forth his tongue endowed with miraculous power, ejected his voice, similar to that of Brahma, and thus expounded the whole of the Doctrine.

Putting the two descriptions together: The Buddha emerges according to the good karmic actions of living beings, being called forth by the thoughts of the living beings and owing to their previous virtuous deeds.

fa-hien, bu-ston, Blog

Pratyekabuddhas Before Śākyamuni

In commenting on A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, I noted that the Chinese Mahāyāna monk Fa-hien noticed stupas dedicated to past pratyekabuddhas during his 5th century tour of India. James Legge, the Cambridge scholar who translated Fa-hien’s account into English in 1886, said the presence of the stupas dedicated to pratyekabuddhas was evidence that these pratyekabuddhas were known to primitive Buddhism, something other Western scholars had questioned.

Recently I’ve been reading “The History of Buddhism in India and Tibet,” which was written by the 14th century Tibetan scholar Bu-ston and translated into English by Eugene Obermiller in 1932.

Note this explanation of what became of the Pratyekabuddhas:

Twelve years before the Bodhisattva was to enter (his mother’s) womb, the sons of the gods belonging to the Pure Region, having miraculously assumed the form of Brāhmaṇas, proclaimed aloud that if (the Bodhisattva) would be conceived in the womb —in the way that is to be described below — he would become a universal monarch or a Buddha, endowed with the characteristic features and marks (of the super-man)! And (other similar gods) addressed the Pratyekabuddhas (in Jambudvipa) as follows: “In 12 years the Bodhisattva will become conceived in the womb; therefore you must abandon this land (since there is nothing more for you to do here).” This was heard by the Pratyekabuddha Mātaṅga, who was abiding on the hill Golāṅgulaparivartana, near Rājagṛha, and he passed away into Nirvāṇa, having left his footprints on a stone. At Vārāṇasi, 500 Pratyekabuddhas gave themselves up to the element of fire. And, after (they were consumed and) had passed away, their ashes fell (on the earth). Thence from that place received the name of Ṛṣipatana, “the place where the Sages fell.”

The History of Buddhism in India and Tibet, page 1

Were these the Pratyekabuddhas honored by the stupas Fa-hien visited? If so, does that mean Pratyekabuddhas only exist in places where no Buddha exists?

fa-hien, Blog

Odds and Ends from A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms

James Legge’s translation of the Chinese monk Fa-hien’s “A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms” has a number of tidbits that I want to highlight.

A month after the (annual season of) rest, the families which are looking out for blessing stimulate one another to make offerings to the monks, and send round to them the liquid food which may be taken out of the ordinary hours. All the monks come together in a great assembly, and preach the Law; after which offerings are presented at the [stupa] of Śāriputra, with all kinds of flowers and incense. All through the night lamps are kept burning, and skillful musicians are employed to perform.

When Śāriputra was a great Brahman, he went to Buddha, and begged (to be permitted) to quit his family (and become a monk). The great Mugalan and the great Kaśyapa also did the same. The bhikshunis for the most part make their offerings at the [stupa] of Ananda, because it was he who requested the World-honored one to allow females to quit their families (and become nuns). The Śramaṇeras mostly make their offerings to Rāhula. The professors of the Abhidharma make their offerings to it; those of the Vinaya to it. Every year there is one such offering, and each class has its own day for it. Students of the Mahāyāna present offerings to the Prajña-pāramitā, to Mañjuśrī and to Kwan-she-yin.

Legge offers this explanation of Kwan-she-yin:

Kwan-she-yin and the dogmas about him or her are as great a mystery as Mañjuśrī. The Chinese name is a mistranslation of the Sanskrit name Avalokiteśvara, ‘On-looking Sovereign,’ or even ‘On-looking Self-Existent,’ and means Regarding or looking on the Bounds of the world,’ = ‘Hearer of Prayer.’ Originally, and still in Thibet, Avalokiteśvara had only male attributes, but in China and Japan (Kwannon), this deity (such popularly she is) is represented as a woman, “Kwan-yin, the greatly gentle, with a thousand arms and a thousand eyes;” and has her principal seat in the island of P’oo-t’oo, on the China coast, which is a regular place of pilgrimage. To the worshippers of whom Fā-hien speaks, Kwan-she-yin would only be Avalokiteśvara. How he was converted into the ‘goddess of mercy,’ and her worship took the place which it now has in China, is a difficult inquiry, which would take much time and space, and not brought after all, so far as I see, to a satisfactory conclusion. … I was talking on the subject once with an intelligent Chinese gentleman, when he remarked, ‘Have you not much the same thing in Europe in worship of Mary?’

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p40-47

Here’s Fa-hien explanation of Ānanda’s parinirvāṇa:

Four yojanas on from this place to the east brought the travelers to the confluence of the five rivers. When Ānanda was going from Magadha to Vaiśāli, wishing his parinirvāṇa to take place (there) the devas informed king Ajātaśatru of it, and the king immediately pursued him, in his own grand carriage, with a body of soldiers, and had reached the river. (On the other hand), the Lichchhavis of Vaiśāli had heard that Ananda was coming (to their city), and they on their part came to him. (In this way), they all arrived together at the river, and Ānanda considered that, if he went forward, king Ajātaśatru would be angry, while, if he went back, the Lichchhavis would resent his conduct. He thereupon in the very middle of the river burnt his body in an ecstasy of Samādhi, and his parinirvāṇa was attained. He divided his body (also) into two, (leaving) the half of it on each bank; so that each of the two kings got one half as a (sacred) relic, and took it back (to his own capital), and there raised a tope over it.

Legge’s note makes an effort to explain this burning Samādhi

Eitel has a long article (pp. 114-115) on the meaning of Samādhi, which is one of the seven sections of wisdom (bodhyanga). Hardy defines it as meaning ‘perfect tranquility;’ Turnour, as ‘meditative abstraction;’ Burnouf, as ‘self-control;’ and Edkins, as ‘ecstatic reverie.’ ‘Samadhi,’ says Eitel, ‘signifies the highest pitch of abstract, ecstatic meditation; a state of absolute indifference to all influences from within or without; a state of torpor of both the material and spiritual forces of vitality; a sort of terrestrial nirvāṇa, consistently culminating in total destruction of life.’ He then quotes apparently the language of the text, ‘He consumed his body by Agni (the fire of) Samādhi,’ and says it is ‘a common expression for the effects of such ecstatic, ultra-mystic self-annihilation.’ All this is simply ‘a darkening of counsel by words without knowledge.’ Some facts concerning the death of Ānanda are hidden beneath the darkness of the phraseology, which it is impossible for us to ascertain. By or in Samādhi he burns his body in the very middle of the river, and then he divides the relic of the burnt body into two parts (for so evidently Fā-hien intended his narration to be taken), and leaves one half on each bank. The account of Ananda’s death in Nien-ch’ang’s ‘History of Buddha and the Patriarchs’ is much more extravagant. Crowds of men and devas are brought together to witness it. The body is divided into four parts. One is conveyed the Tushita heaven; a second, to the palace of a certain Naga king; a third is given to Ajātaśatru; and the fourth to the Lichchhavis. What it all really means I cannot tell.

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p75-77
fa-hien, Blog, Books

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms

legge-record-of-buddhistic-kingdomsIn 399 CE, a Chinese Mahāyāna monk named Fa-hien set out for India to find a complete copy of the Vinaya, the rules and precepts for fully ordained monks.

After Fa-hien set out from Ch’ang-gan, it took him six years to reach Central India; stoppages there extended over [another] six years; and on his return it took him three years to reach Ts’ing-chow [China].

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p115-116

After his trip, Fa-hien wrote a book about what he saw. Fa-hien’s book was translated into English by James Legge (1815-1897). Legge, at the time he published his translation in 1886, was professor of Chinese studies at Oxford University. Throughout the book, Legge offers extensive notes explaining for his Western audience the background and meaning of what Fa-hien saw in his travels.

From Legge’s Introduction:

Nothing of great importance is known about Fa-hien in addition to what may be gathered from his own record of his travels. I have read the accounts of him in the ‘Memoirs of Eminent Monks,’ compiled in A.D. 519, and a later work, the ‘Memoirs of Marvelous Monks,’ by the third emperor of the Ming dynasty (A.D. 1403-1424), which, however, is nearly all borrowed from the other; and all in them that has an appearance of verisimilitude can be brought within brief compass.

His surname, they tell us, was Kung, and he was a native of Wu-yang in P’ing-yang, which is still the name of a large department in Shan-hsi. He had three brothers older than himself; but when they all died before shedding their first teeth, his father devoted him to the service of the Buddhist society, and had him entered as a śramaṇera, still keeping him at home in the family. The little fellow fell dangerously ill, and the father sent him to the monastery, where he soon got well and refused to return to his parents.

When he was ten years old, his father died; and an uncle, considering the widowed solitariness and helplessness of the mother, urged him to renounce the monastic life, and return to her, but the boy replied, ‘I did not quit the family in compliance with my father’s wishes, but because I wished to be far from the dust and vulgar ways of life. This is why I choose monkhood.’ The uncle approved of his words and gave over urging him. When his mother also died, it appeared how great had been the affection for her of his fine nature; but after her burial he returned to the monastery.

On one occasion he was cutting rice with a score or two of his fellow disciples when some hungry thieves came upon them to take away their grain by force. The other śramaṇeras all fled, but our young hero stood his ground, and said to the thieves, “If you must have the grain, take what you please. But, Sirs, it was your former neglect of charity which brought you to your present state of destitution; and now, again, you wish to rob others. I am afraid that in the coming age you will have still greater poverty and distress. I am sorry for you beforehand.” With these words he followed his companions to the monastery, while the thieves left the grain and went away, all the monks, of whom there were several hundred, doing homage to his conduct and courage.

When he had finished his noviciate and taken on him the obligations of the full Buddhist orders, his earnest courage, clear intelligence, and strict regulation of his demeanor were conspicuous; and soon after, he undertook his journey to India in search of complete copy of the Vinaya-piṭaka. What follows this is merely an account of his travels in India and return to China by sea, condensed from his own narrative, with the addition of some marvelous incidents that happened to him, on his visit to the Vulture Peak near Rājagṛha.

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p1-2

The book offers a fascinating look at Buddhist life and practice at the start of the fifth century. Keep in mind, that at the same time Fa-hien was exploring India, Kumārajīva was busy translating the Lotus Sutra into Chinese.

Several things Fa-hien witnessed were of particular interest to me. For example, having recently finished Jan Nattier’s “A Few Good Men: The Bodhisattva Path according to The Inquiry of Ugra,” it was interesting to note that some Buddhist communities that Fa-hien encountered included both Mahāyāna and Hinayāna monks, while others were strictly Hinayāna or Mahāyāna. In The Inquiry of Ugra the Mahāyāna Bodhisattva path was not a separate teaching but just one of the vehicles available to renunciants. Centuries later, Fa-hien finds evidence of a separation of the Mahāyāna and Hinayāna schools, while still finding areas where they practiced together.

I also found the topic of Pratyeka buddhas fascinating. In the Lotus Sutra, we hear of people seeking Pratyekabuddhahood, one of the three provisional vehicles, but nothing about someone actually attaining this goal.

Fa-hien witnessed:

At this place there are as many as a thousand topes of Arhans and Pratyeka Buddhas.

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p40

Topes is another word for stupas. Legge offers this note about Pratyeka Buddhas:

In Singhalese, Pasê Buddhas; called also Nidâna Buddhas, and Pratyeka Jinas, and explained by ‘individually intelligent,’ ‘completely intelligent,’ ‘intelligent as regards the nidânas.’ This, says Eitel (pp. 96, 97), is ‘a degree of saintship unknown to primitive Buddhism, denoting automats in ascetic life who attain to Buddhaship “individually,” that is, without a teacher, and without being able to save others. As the ideal hermit, the Pratyeka Buddha is compared with the rhinoceros (khadga) that lives lonely in the wilderness. He is also called Nidâna Buddha, as having mastered the twelve nidânas (the twelve links in the everlasting chain of cause and effect in the whole range of existence, the understanding of which solves the riddle of life, revealing the inanity of all forms of existence, and preparing the mind for nirvāṇa). He is also compared to a horse, which, crossing a river, almost buries its body under the water, without, however, touching the bottom of the river. Thus in crossing saṃsāra he suppresses the errors of life and thought, and the effects of habit and passion, without attaining to absolute perfection.” ‘ Whether these Buddhas were unknown, as Eitel says, to primitive Buddhism, may be doubted.

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p40

Underscore “without being able to save others,” which tells you all you need to know about Pratyeka buddhas.

(See Pratyekabuddhas Before Śākyamuni)

Legge, who came to China as a Christian missionary, is mostly supportive of Buddhism, but takes offense at Fa-hien’s tale of a monk who attained parinirvāṇa by cutting his own throat.

[At a distance of 50 paces from the rock dwelling of Devadatta] is a large, square black rock. Formerly there was a bhikṣu who, as he walked backwards and forwards upon it, thought with himself: ‘This body is impermanent, a thing of bitterness and vanity, and which cannot be looked on as pure. I am weary of this body, troubled by it as an evil.’ With this he grasped a knife and was about to kill himself. But he thought again: ‘The World-honored one laid down a prohibition against one’s killing himself.’ Further it occurred to him: ‘Yes, he did; but I now only wish to kill three poisonous thieves.’ Immediately with the knife he cut his throat. With the first gash into the flesh he attained the state of a Srotaāpanna; when he had gone half through, he attained to be an Anāgāmin; and when he had cut right through, he was an Arhat, and attained to parinirvāṇa; (and died).

Legge responds in a note:

Our author expresses no opinion of his own on the act of this bhikshu. Must it not have been a good act, when it was attended, in the very act of performance, by such blessed consequences? But if Buddhism had not something better to show than what appears here, it would not attract the interest which it now does. The bhikshu was evidently rather out of his mind; and the verdict of a coroner’s inquest of this nineteenth century would have pronounced that he killed himself ‘in a fit of insanity.’

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p86

Not everything Fa-hien saw in India accorded with traditional Buddhism.

In this Middle Kingdom there are ninety-six sorts of views, erroneous and different from our system, all of which recognize this world and the future world (and the connection between them). Each has its multitude of followers, and they all beg their food: only they do not carry the alms-bowl. They also, moreover, seek (to acquire) the blessing (of good deeds) on unfrequented ways, setting up on the roadside houses of charity, where rooms, couches, beds, and food and drink are supplied to travelers, and also to monks, coming and going as guests, the only difference being in the time (for which those parties remain).

There are also companies of the followers of Devadatta still existing. They regularly make offerings to the three previous Buddhas, but not to Śākyamuni Buddha.

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p61-62

I’ll end here with Fa-hien’s tale of the woman who accused the Buddha of having gotten her pregnant.

Outside the east gate of the Jetavana, at a distance of seventy paces to the north, on the west of the road, Buddha held a discussion with the (advocates of the) ninety-six schemes of erroneous doctrine, when the king and his great officers, the householders, and people were all assembled in crowds to hear it. Then a woman belonging to one of the erroneous systems, by name Chañchamana, prompted by the envious hatred in her heart, and having put on (extra) clothes in front of her person, so as to give her the appearance of being with child, falsely accused Buddha before all the assembly of having acted unlawfully (towards her). On this, Śakra, Ruler of Devas, changed himself and some devas into white mice, which bit through the strings about her waist; and when this was done, the (extra) clothes which she wore dropt down on the ground. The earth at the same time was rent, and she went (down) alive into hell. (This) also is the place where Devadatta, trying with empoisoned claws to injure Buddha, went down alive into hell. Men subsequently set up marks to distinguish where both these events took place.

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p59-60
ugra, Blog

A Few Good Men Living in the Wilderness

The bodhisattvas of The Inquiry of Ugra are uniformly wilderness dwellers, only occasionally visiting the greater sangha in order to hear the Dharma.

In discussing the virtues of dwelling in the wilderness, The Inquiry of Ugra offers this:

“O Eminent Householder, if one asks what is the renunciant bodhisattva’s śramaṇa-aim, it is the following: it is mindfulness and clear consciousness, being undistracted, attaining the dhārāṇis, not being satisfied with what he has learned, having attained eloquence in speech, relying on loving-kindness and compassion, having mastery of the paranormal powers, fulfilling the cultivation of the six perfections, not abandoning the spirit of Omniscience, cultivating the knowledge of skillful means, maturing sentient beings, not abandoning the four means of attraction, being mindful of the six kinds of remembrance, not discarding learning and exertion, properly analyzing the dharmas, exerting oneself in order to attain right liberation, knowing the attainments of the fruit, dwelling in the state of having entered into a fixed course, and protecting the True Dharma.

“It is having right view, by having confidence in the maturing of deeds; having right intention, which consists in the cutting off of all discursive and divisive thought; having right speech, which consists of teaching the Dharma in accordance with the receptivity [of others]; having right action, by completely annihilating action; having right livelihood, by overcoming the residue of attachments; having right effort, by awakening to sambodhi; having right mindfulness, by constant non-forgetfulness; and having right absorption, by fully attaining the knowledge of Omniscience.

“It is not being frightened by emptiness, not being intimidated by the signless, and not being overpowered by the wishless, and being able through one’s knowledge to be reborn at will. It is relying on the meaning, not on the letter; relying on knowledge, not on discursive consciousness; relying on the Dharma, not on the person; and relying on the definitive sūtras, not on the sūtras that must be interpreted. In accord with the primordially non-arising and non-ceasing nature of things, it is not mentally constructing an essence of things—that, O Eminent Householder, is what is called the śramaṇa-aim of the renunciant bodhisattva.

A Few Good Men, p291-294

Note the admonition about “relying on the meaning, not on the letter; relying on knowledge, not on discursive consciousness; relying on the Dharma, not on the person; and relying on the definitive sūtras, not on the sūtras that must be interpreted.”

These instructions are also found in the Nirvāṇa Sūtra, where Nichiren read them as validating the Lotus Sutra as the highest teaching of the Buddha.

The Nirvana Sūtra declares, “Rely on the dharma, not on the man; rely on the wisdom, not on the knowledge.” “Rely on the dharma” in this passage means to rely on the eternal dharma preached in the Lotus-Nirvana sūtras. “Rely not on the man” means not to rely on those who do not believe in the Lotus-Nirvana sūtras. Those who do not have faith in the Lotus Sūtra, even Buddhas and bodhisattvas, are not “good friends” (reliable teachers) for us in the Latter Age, not to mention commentators, translators and teachers after the extinction of the Buddha who do not believe in the Lotus-Nirvana Sūtras. “Rely on the wisdom” means to rely on the wisdom of the Buddha. “Rely not on the knowledge” means not to rely on the opinions of bodhisattvas in the highest stage and below.

Shugo Kokka-ron, Treatise on Protecting the Nation, Writings of Nichiren Shōnin, Doctrine 1, Pages 59-60

The Inquiry of Ugra also offers an alternate set of bodhisattva vows. Compares these with the Four Great Vows promulgated by the founder of the Tiantai school and adopted by Nichiren:

“Who, in order to take care of, comfort, and protect all beings, seek the armor [of the bodhisattva]; who for the benefit of all beings take on the great burden, vowing:

The unrescued I will rescue.
The unliberated I will liberate.
The uncomforted I will comfort.
Those who have not yet reached parinirvāṇa, I will cause to attain parinirvāṇa

Finally, The Inquiry of Ugra includes this tip for the bodhisattva that I hope to keep in mind:

Without deception or artifice, he never tires of searching for what is lovable and virtuous in all beings. He is never satisfied with how much he has learned.

A Few Good Men, p226