From the publisher’s description:
This is the first collection of Buddhist legends in Japan, and these stories form the repertoire of miraculous events and moral examples that later Buddhist priests used for preaching to the people. As Kyokai describes his own intentions, “By editing these stories of miraculous events I want to pull the people forward by the ears, offer my hand to lead them to good, and show them how to cleanse their feet of evil” (p.222).
Nakamura’s book is actually two works in one: first an introduction to the Nihon ryōiki, and then an annotated translation. The introduction analyzes the life of the author and the influence of earlier writings, and provides a valuable synthesis of the world view reflected in the work.
The annotated translation renders the more than one hundred stories into English narrative, with copious notes. Difficult terms are identified in the text with the original Chinese characters, while historical matters and Buddhist technical terms are explained in the footnotes.
As I did with Miraculous Tales of the Lotus Sutra from Ancient Japan, I have culled from this book a selection of material to set aside for future reference. I’ve collected stories of the Hokekyō reciters, the followers of the Lotus Sūtra, and I’ll publish those daily as part of my 32 Days of the Lotus Sūtra practice. Several of these stories appeared as Miraculous Tales of the Lotus Sutra from Ancient Japan. Additional details are available in the Miraculous Stories from the Japanese Buddhist Tradition translation.
The translator and editor of this edition, Kyoko Motomochi Nakamura, offers this concept of “miracles” at the conclusion of his preface:
If miracles are narrowly defined as the intervention of the divine which is designed to suspend or change the law of nature, then wondrous occurrences in the Buddhist tradition are not miracles, but the work of karma (1.26). As a consequence of past karma, man becomes a sage, holy man, bodhisattva, or buddha, and attains self-mastery. To the popular imagination, however, wonders held such appeal that they served as signs to invite men through the gate along the path toward enlightenment. (Page 91)
The Nihon ryōiki is a collection of stories gathered by a monk named Kyōkai. The Nihon ryōiki, according to Nakamura, was compiled either in 782-805 or 810-824. Theories differ, but one important aspect is that at the time when this book was compiled Japanese Buddhism was in a transition away from nonsectarian “Buddhist institutes for the study of several different doctrines” toward a growing sectarian consciousness “in response to the challenge of the new Buddhist teachings introduced by Saichō (767-822) and Kūkai (744-835)” (Page 4).
Kyōkai’s Preface of Volume One offers this view of Good and Evil:
Good and evil deeds cause karmic retribution as a figure causes its shadow, and suffering and pleasure follow such deeds as an echo follows a sound in the valley. Those who witness such experiences marvel at them and forget they are real happenings in the world. The penitent withdraws to hide himself, for he burns with shame at once. Were the fact of karmic retribution not known, how could we rectify wickedness and establish righteousness? And how would it be possible to make men mend their wicked minds and practice the path of virtue without demonstrating the law of karmic causation? (Page 101)
And later in discussing his own limitations:
I am not gifted with either wisdom or lucidity. Learning acquired in a narrow well loses its way when out in the open. My work resembles that of a poor craftsman working on the carving of a master. I am afraid that I will cut my hand and suffer from the injury long afterward. My work is comparable to a rough pebble beside the K’un-lun Mountains. Its source in the oral tradition is so indistinct that I am afraid of omitting much. Only the desire to do good has moved me to try, in spite of the fear that this might turn out to be a presumptuous work by an incompetent author. I hope that learned men in future generations will not laugh at my efforts, and I pray that those who happen upon this collection of miraculous stories will put aside evil, live in righteousness, and, without causing evil, practice good. (Page 101-102)
From the Kyōkai’s Preface to Volume III, the three periods of Śākyamuni’s teachings:
The Inner Scriptures show how good and evil deeds are repaid, while the Outer Writings show how good and bad fortunes bring merit and demerit. If we study all the discourses Śākyamuni made during his lifetime, we learn that there are three periods: first, the period of the true dharma (shōbō), which lasts five hundred years; second, the period of the counterfeit dharma (zōbō), lasting a thousand years; and third, the period of the degenerate dharma (mappō), which continues for ten thousand years. By the fourth year of the hare, the sixth year of the Enryaku era [787], seventeen hundred and twenty-two years have passed since Buddha entered nirvana. Accordingly, we live in the age of the degenerate dharma following the first two periods. Now in Japan, by the sixth year of the Enryaku era, two hundred and thirty-six years have elapsed since the arrival of the Buddha, Dharma, and Samgha [538 or 553]. Flowers bloom without voice, and cocks cry without tears. In the present world those who practice good are as few as flowers on rocky hills, but those who do evil are as plentiful as weeds in the soil. Without knowing the law of karmic retribution, one offends as easily as a blind man loses his way. A tiger is known by its tail. Those devoted to fame, profit, and killing doubt the immediate repayment of good and evil which occurs as quickly as a mirror reflects. One who is possessed of an evil spirit is like one who holds a poisonous snake; the poison is always there ready to appear.
The great power of karmic retribution reaches us as quickly as sound echoes in a valley. If we call, the echo never fails to answer, and this is the way karmic retribution works in this life. How can we fail to be more careful? It is useless to repent after spending a lifetime in vain. Who can enjoy immortality since you are given a limited life? How can you depend on your transient life as being eternal? We are already in the age of the degenerate dharma. How can we live without doing good? My heart aches for all beings. How can we be saved from calamity in the age of the degenerate dharma? If we offer monks only a handful of food, the merit of our good deed will save us from the calamity of hunger. If we keep a precept of nonkilling for a day, we will be saved from the calamity of sword and battle. (Page 221-222)
He follows with an example of how karma works:
Once there was a full-fledged monk who lived on a mountain and practiced meditation. At every meal he shared his food with a crow which came to him every day. After a vegetarian meal, he chewed a toothpick, cleaned his mouth, washed his hands and played with a stone. The crow was behind the hedge when he threw the stone. He hit the crow without knowing that it was there. The crow died on the spot, its head crushed into pieces, and was reborn as a boar. The boar lived in the same mountain as the monk. It happened to go to the place above his hut, rooting about among the rocks for food, where upon one of the rocks rolled down and killed the monk. Although the boar had no intention of killing him, the rock rolled down by itself. A sin committed by an action which is neither good nor bad will in turn generate the same kind of action. In the case of intentional murder, how is it possible to escape the penalty? A deluded mind produces the seed and fruit of evil; an enlightened mind produces the seed of good to attain Buddhahood. (Page 222)