Note: This is another in the monthly excerpts from “Tales of the Lotus Sutra.”

The Buddhist monk Lingkan. Details of his background are unknown. [His master] recognized him to be someone who was very bright and compassionate by nature and had him take up regular recitation of the Lotus Sūtra. However, upon first completing his memorization of the scripture, Lingkan unexpectedly came down with (gan) a severe illness. He informed his master of it, saying, “I have heard that if one [ritually] receives and keeps the Lotus one will realize purification of the six sense faculties. How is it that my recitation produces (gan) illness instead?”

His master replied, “When you recite the sutra how do you go about it?”

Kan said, “Sometimes I do not wash my hands, or bother to clothe myself [with the proper robes]. I may rest the [the sūtra] at my feet, or place it at the head of my bed, as the moment moves me.”

His teacher said, “In that case it is a beneficent dharma-protecting spirit that has come to inflict punishment on you. If you don’t show proper care for the scripture your efforts will bring forth (gan) no merits. It is fitting that you repent.”

Kan thereupon fashioned a plain wooden case, where he kept the sutra and to which he [regularly] paid obeisance by touching it with the crown of his head. In the [Buddha] hall he ritually circumambulated [the sūtra]. Except for eating and relieving himself, he threw himself entirely into this painful penance, chastening himself with such intensity that his head split open and blood flowed.

For three years running he kept up this practice, until one day, just as the light of dawn was beginning to break at the fifth watch, there came a loud pounding at the door of the Buddha hall, and someone called out for it to be opened. At first Kan was reluctant, thinking, “Certainly this must be a criminal. Why else would he want a door to be opened when it is already locked tight?” But the person continued to call without letting up, so Kan finally gave in.

When he opened the door he saw an old man. His beard and temples were hoary white, and in his hands he clutched a wooden staff. When Kan showed his face the man struck him repeatedly, saying, “Will you dare ever again to make light of the Lotus Sūtra?” The instant he hit him, the ulcers that covered Kan’s body were healed and his four vital elements returned to their normal balance.

When the daylight finally broke Kan inspected the front of the Buddha hall, where he discovered the footprints of an elephant [in the dirt]. Thereupon he realized for the first time that the old man was the bodhisattva Samantabhadra, who had descended to eliminate his sins. From then on he completely reformed his ways and devoted himself unremittingly to the practice of recitation [of the Lotus]. We do not know where or when he died.

His old master, Ju, also took the Lotus as his main practice. Whenever he recited the scripture he felt as though an ambrosial flavor, unlike anything in the known world, would spread through his mouth. As a result, when he began reciting he never wanted to stop.