[I]n asking their parents’ permission — a requirement of the monastic rule — to renounce household life and become Buddhist monks, the two princes state that it is “difficult to meet a buddha, just as it is to see udumbara flowers or for a one-eyed turtle to find the hole in a floating piece of wood.” The uḍumbara tree was said to bloom once every three thousand years and thus stands as a symbol for an extremely rare opportunity. The same analogy occurs in the “Skillful Means” chapter to illustrate the rarity of hearing the Lotus Sūtra.

The analogy of the turtle and the floating piece of wood appears in a number of sūtras and commentaries, where it is used to illustrate the rarity of being born human and encountering the Buddha’s teaching. In a letter to a follower, the wife of the same Matsuno Rokurōzaemon mentioned above, Nichiren develops the analogy in great detail and applies it specifically to the Lotus Sūtra. To summarize his expanded version: A large turtle with only one eye and lacking limbs or flippers dwells on the ocean floor. His belly is burning hot, but the shell on his back is freezing cold. Only the rare red sandalwood has the power to cool the turtle’s belly. The turtle yearns to cool his belly on a piece of floating red sandalwood and at the same time to warm his back in the sun. However, he can rise to the ocean’s surface only once in a thousand years, and even then, he can rarely find a piece of floating red sandalwood. When he does so, it may not contain a hollow, or at least not one of the proper size to hold him. Even when he finds a floating sandalwood log with an appropriate hollow place, without limbs, he cannot easily approach it, and having only one eye, he mistakes east for west; thus, he cannot accurately judge the direction of the log’s drift and winds up moving in the wrong direction. Nichiren interprets: “The ocean represents the sea of the sufferings of birth and death, and the turtle is ourselves, living beings. His limbless state indicates our lack of good roots. The heat of his belly represents the eight hot hells of anger, and the cold of the shell on his back, the eight cold hells of greed. His remaining for a thousand years on the ocean floor means that we fall into the three evil paths and are unable to emerge. His surfacing only once every thousand years illustrates how difficult it is to emerge from the three evil paths and be born as a human even once in immeasurable eons, at a time when Śākyamuni Buddha has appeared in the world.”

The turtle mistaking east for west, Nichiren continues, means that ordinary people in their ignorance confuse inferior and superior among the Buddha’s teachings, clinging to provisional teachings that have lost their efficacy and rejecting the one teaching that can lead to enlightenment. And the rarity of the turtle finding a floating sandalwood log with a hollow in it just big enough to hold him means that “even if one should meet the Lotus Sūtra, it is rarer and more difficult still to encounter the daimoku, which is its heart, and chant Namu Myōhō-renge-kyō.” In this way, Nichiren stressed the inconceivable good fortune of his followers, who had not only been born as humans and met the Lotus Sūtra but, although living in a degenerate age in a remote country far from the Buddha’s birthplace, were able to chant the wonderful dharma of the daimoku.

Some of Nichiren’s followers actually found themselves [at odds with their parents]. Among them were two brothers, samurai of the Ikegami family living in Kamakura. They may have been direct vassals of the Hōjō family who ruled the Bakufu or military government. The elder was called Munenaka, and the younger, Munenaga. Their father, Yasumitsu, was a supporter of the eminent monk Ryōkan-bō Ninshō, widely acclaimed as a holy man for his acts of public charity and scrupulous adherence to the precepts. By Nichiren’s account, however, Ninshō’s machinations had brought about his second arrest and exile to Sado Island; Nichiren and his followers had learned to regard Ninshō as an enemy. Because their father revered this cleric, the two brothers, like Śubhavyūha’s two sons, must have felt that they had been born into a “house of wrong views.” Yasumitsu demanded that Munenaka, whose faith was the stronger, renounce his commitment to the Lotus Sūtra and to Nichiren. When Munenaka refused, his father disowned him. At this point, the younger brother began to waver, swayed perhaps by a more conventional understanding of the obedience owed to one’s father and by the unexpected opportunity to replace Munenaka as his father’s heir. Nichiren admonished him, “If you obey your father who is an enemy of the Lotus Sūtra and abandon your brother who is a votary of the one vehicle, are you really being filial? In the end, you should resolve single-mindedly to pursue the buddha way like your brother. Your father is like King Śubhavyūha, and you brothers are like the princes Vimalagarbha and Vimalanetra. Their situation occurred in the past while yours is happening in the present, but the principle of the Lotus Sūtra remains unchanged.”

In the end, perhaps strengthened by Nichiren’s admonishment, the younger brother stood firmly by his elder brother and refused to abandon his faith. Eventually the two were even able to convert their father, and Nichiren praised them as Vimalagarbha and Vimalanetra reborn.

Cases of family discord inevitably arose among Nichiren’s followers when their relatives opposed his teaching. Nichiren often cited [Chapter 27, King Wonderful-Adornment as the Previous Life of a Bodhisattva] to stress that, when faced with the choice between following one’s parents’ wishes or being faithful to the Lotus Sūtra, the Lotus Sūtra must take precedence. Such a stance flew in the face of common understandings of filial piety, an important cultural value of Nichiren’s time. A writing attributed to him, possibly authored by a close disciple with his approval, states:

“King Śubhavyūha, the father of Vimalagarbha and Vimalanetra, adhered to heretical teachings and turned his back on the buddha-dharma. The two princes disobeyed their father’s orders and became disciples of the buddha Jaladharagaritaghoṣasusvaranakṣatrarājasaṃkusumitābhijn͂a, but in the end they were able to guide their father so that he became a buddha called Sālendrarāja [“King of the Sāla Trees”]. Are they to be called unfilial? A sūtra passage explains: ‘To renounce one’s obligations and enter the unconditioned is truly to repay those obligations.’ Thus, we see that those who cast aside the bonds of love and indebtedness in this life and enter the true path of the buddha-dharma are persons who truly understand their obligations.”

The logic here is that abandoning the Lotus Sūtra to satisfy one’s parents might please them in the short run, but by so doing, one severs both them and oneself from the sole path of liberation in the present age. Because such an act constitutes “slander of the dharma,” it can only lead to suffering for all concerned in this and future lifetimes. By upholding faith in the Lotus Sūtra, however, one can realize buddhahood oneself and eventually lead one’s parents to do the same.

[In Chapter 26, Dhārānis,] Nichiren was struck by the words in the vow made by the ten rāksasis that if anyone troubles those who expound the Lotus Sūtra, “his head will be split into seven pieces just like a branch of the arjaka tree.” Zhanran, in summarizing the powers of the Lotus referred to in the sūtra text, had written, “Those who trouble [Lotus devotees] will have their heads split into seven pieces; those who make offerings to them will enjoy good fortune surpassing [that represented by the Buddha’s] ten titles.” The two parts of this sentence are inscribed as “passages of praise” on either side of a number of Nichiren’s mandalas. We can think of them as illustrating the principle of karmic causality as applied to the Lotus Sūtra.

Chapter Twenty-Three [states]: “This sūtra is good medicine for the ills of the people of Jambudvipa. If there is any sick person who hears this sūtra, his illness will disappear, and he will neither die nor grow old.” Nichiren, who understood Namu Myōhō-renge-kyō to be the “good medicine” in the parable of the excellent doctor in the “Lifespan” chapter, often cited this passage. On one level, he did so to encourage followers to rouse the power of faith in order to battle actual physical sickness. “Life is the most precious of treasures,” he wrote to a sick follower. “Moreover, you have encountered the Lotus Sūtra. If you can live even one day longer, you can accumulate that much more merit.” But on another level, he understood this matter metaphorically: The people of Japan were “sick” with the illnesses of attachment to provisional teachings and slander of the dharma, which could only be cured by the “medicine” that is the daimoku. The daimoku, Nichiren taught, can also cure sufferings of an existential nature. Of course, it is not the case that Lotus devotees invariably recover from sickness, or “neither die nor grow old” in a literal sense. What the sūtra, and Nichiren, promise here is that the Lotus can, in this chapter’s words, “free sentient beings from every suffering, all the pains and bonds of sickness and of birth and death” and ferry them “across the ocean of old age, illness, and death.” Where there is birth, then old age, illness, and death are inevitable. But through faith and the insight that accompanies it, the sufferings associated with them can be transcended.