佛果圜悟禪師碧巖錄

CASE 21: ZHIMEN’S LOTUS FLOWER, LOTUS LEAF

POINTER: Raising the Dharma banner and establishing the essential principle is adding flowers to brocade. Removing the halter and taking off the saddle is a time of peace. If one can discern the phrase beyond conventions, raising one and understanding three, that is well and good. If not, listen attentively as before to the judgment.

PUBLIC CASE: A monk asked Zhimen, “What is it like before the lotus flower emerges from the water?” Zhimen replied, “Lotus flower.” The monk asked, “What is it like after it emerges from the water?” Zhimen replied, “Lotus leaf.”

COMMENTARY: If this is Zhimen responding to circumstances and receiving people, he is still somewhat far off. If it is cutting off all streams, then he is thousands and tens of thousands of miles away. Tell me: are the lotus flower that has emerged from the water and the lotus flower that has not yet emerged one or two? If you can see into it here, I grant that you have a place of entry. Nevertheless, if you say they are one, you confound Buddha-nature and muddle True Suchness. If you say they are two, mind and objects have not yet been forgotten; you fall onto the road of intellectual understanding, running on with no telling when you will stop. Tell me, what was the ancient’s meaning? In truth, there is not much to it.

Therefore Touzi said, “Simply do not become stuck on names, words, numbers, and phrases. If you understand the matters themselves, naturally you will not become stuck. Then there are not many differing stages. You encompass all dharmas, but all dharmas cannot encompass you. Fundamentally there is neither gain nor loss. Why forcibly establish so many dreamlike, illusory names and thereby deceive you? Because you ask, there is something to say. If you did not ask, what would you have me say to you? Indeed, all these matters are brought here entirely by you; they have nothing whatsoever to do with my affairs.”

An ancient said: “If you wish to know the meaning of Buddha-nature, you must contemplate the temporal conditions and causes.” Yunmen brought up the story of a monk asking Lingyun, “What was it like before the Buddha appeared in the world?” Lingyun raised his whisk upright. The monk asked, “What was it like after he appeared in the world?” Lingyun again raised his whisk upright. Yunmen said, “The first time he struck successfully; the second time he failed to strike successfully.” He also said, “Do not speak of appearing or not appearing in the world. Where are there temporal conditions?”

The monk asked: The ancients’ question and answer, one after another, accorded with the time and the occasion; there was not much to it. If you seek words and pursue phrases, you will never have any connection with it. If within words you penetrate the words, within the meaning you penetrate the meaning, and within the pivotal activity you penetrate the pivotal activity, letting go so that you attain freedom and ease, only then will you see Zhimen’s place of response.

There are such questions as: “What was it like before the Buddha appeared in the world?” “What was it like before Niutou met the Fourth Patriarch?” “What was it like when everything was mingled within the primal stone, before chaos had divided?” “What was it like before your father and mother gave birth to you?” Yunmen said, “From ancient times until now, it has only been this one matter: neither right nor wrong, neither gain nor loss, neither born nor unborn.” Arriving here, the ancients opened a path, with a way out and a way in.

Those who have not yet understood feel along fences and grope along walls, leaning on grasses and clinging to trees. Sometimes they are instructed to let everything go completely; sometimes they are struck and driven into a boundless wilderness of dense thickets.

Those who have penetrated it pass through all twelve hours without relying on a single thing. Yet although they rely on nothing whatsoever, when one pivotal activity or one scene is presented, how could it be sought out by groping?

This monk asked, “What is it like before the lotus flower emerges from the water?” Zhimen replied, “Lotus flower.” This merely blocks the question. This single reply is truly extraordinary. Everywhere it is called an inverted saying. Why is this so? Yantou said, “It is always most precious before the mouth has opened; even then it is still somewhat a matter of comparison.” Once the ancients revealed their pivotal activity, the tail was already showing.

Present-day students do not understand the ancients’ meaning; they merely insist on reasoning about it. What possible relevance is there in whether it has emerged from the water or has not yet emerged?

A monk once asked Zhimen, “What is the essence of prajna?” Zhimen replied, “A boy holds the bright moon in his mouth.” The monk asked, “What is the function of prajna?” Zhimen replied, “A rabbit is pregnant.” Look at how the master answered: people throughout the world cannot fathom the thread running through his words.

If someone were to ask Jiashan, “What is it like before the lotus flower emerges from the water?” Jiashan would reply, “A pillar, a lantern.” Tell me, is this the same as or different from “lotus flower”? The monk asked, “What is it like after it emerges from the water?” He replied, “The tip of the staff stirs the sun and moon; beneath the feet, the mud is very deep.” Tell me, is this right or not? Do not mistakenly take the balance weight as a fixed standard. Xuedou, exceedingly compassionate, shattered people’s emotional and intellectual interpretations and produced this verse:

VERSE: Lotus flower, lotus leaf—I tell you so you may know;

Once out of the water, how can it compare with the time before it emerged?

North of the River and south of the River, ask old Wang;

One doubt resolved, another doubt arises.

TRANSLATION: Lotus flower, lotus leaf—I tell you so you may know;

Once out of the water, how can it compare with the time before it emerged?

North of the River and south of the River, ask old Wang;

One doubt resolved, another doubt arises.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: Zhimen was originally from the region of Zhe. He often traveled to the land of Chuan to inquire of Xianglin. Having thoroughly penetrated the matter, he returned and became abbot of Zhimen Monastery in Suizhou. Xuedou was the master’s true Dharma heir. He saw the place of shared mystery and ultimate subtlety, and therefore said, “Lotus flower, lotus leaf—I tell you so you may know; once out of the water, how can it compare with the time before it emerged?” What is essential here is for a person to understand immediately, on the spot.

This mountain monk says: “What is it like before it emerges from the water?”—“A pillar, a lantern.” “What is it like after it emerges from the water?”—“The tip of the staff stirs the sun and moon; beneath the feet, the mud is very deep.” Do not mistakenly take the balance weight as a fixed standard. How many people today gnaw on words and phrases? Tell me, what kind of time is it before it emerges from the water? What kind of time is it after it emerges from the water? If you can see into this, I tell you that you have personally met Zhimen.

Xuedou says that if you do not see it, then go “north of the River and south of the River, and ask old Wang.” Xuedou’s meaning is that you merely keep traveling north and south of the River, asking venerable masters about emerging from the water and not yet emerging from the water. South of the River they add two phrases; north of the River they add two more. Layer is added upon layer, and doubts arise one after another. Tell me, when will you ever exhaust your doubts? It is like a suspicious wild fox crossing a sheet of ice: it listens for the sound of water and dares to cross the river only if it hears none. If a student of the Way has “one doubt resolved, another doubt arising,” when will that student ever attain peace and stability?

CASE 22: XUEFENG’S GREAT SNAKE

POINTER: In greatness, nothing lies outside it; in smallness, it equals the infinitesimal. No one else is responsible for grasping and releasing; rolling it up and letting it unfold rest with me. If you wish to loosen what is sealed and untie what is bound, you must obliterate all traces and swallow every sound, so that each person sits astride and cuts off the vital crossing, and each stands like a wall ten thousand fathoms high. Tell me, whose realm is this? Try to present it and see.

PUBLIC CASE: Xuefeng instructed the assembly, “On South Mountain there is a great snake. All of you must look at it carefully.” Changqing said, “Today someone in the hall has lost body and life.” A monk related this to Xuansha. Xuansha said, “Only Elder Brother Leng could say that. Nevertheless, I would not speak that way.” The monk asked, “What would you say, Venerable?” Xuansha replied, “What use is South Mountain?” Yunmen threw his staff down before Xuefeng and made a gesture of fright.

COMMENTARY: If you are at peace, freely remain at peace; if you smash everything to pieces, freely smash everything to pieces. Xuefeng, Yantou, and Qinshan were fellow travelers. They went three times to Touzi and nine times up to Dongshan; only after Xuefeng studied under Deshan did he smash the lacquer bucket.

One day, Xuefeng urged Yantou to set out with him to find Qinshan. When they reached an inn on Mount Ao, they were stopped by snow. Every day Yantou merely slept soundly, while Xuefeng did nothing but sit in meditation. Yantou scolded him: “Go to sleep! Every day you sit on the bed like the earth god of seven villages; someday you will bewitch the sons and daughters of other families.” Pointing to his breast, Xuefeng said: “I am not yet at peace within here; I dare not deceive myself.”

Yantou said: “I told you that in the future you would go to the summit of a solitary peak, build yourself a grass hut, and propagate the great teaching. Why do you still speak this way?”

Xuefeng said: “I truly am not yet at peace.”

Yantou said: “If that is truly so, bring forth each of your insights one by one. Where you are right, I will confirm it for you; where you are wrong, I will cast it away.”

Xuefeng then recounted: “When I saw Yanguan ascend the Dharma hall and speak on the meaning of form and emptiness, I immediately gained an entry.”

Yantou said: “For the next thirty years, you must above all avoid mentioning this again.”

Xuefeng continued: “When I saw Dongshan’s verse on crossing the bridge, I immediately gained an entry.”

Yantou said: “If that is all, you will not even be able to save yourself.”

Xuefeng related: “Later, I went to Deshan and asked, ‘In the matter of the vehicle of the ancestral school before us, do I have a share or not?’ Deshan struck me once with his staff and said, ‘What are you saying?’ At that moment, I was like a bucket whose bottom had fallen out.”

Yantou shouted: “Have you not heard it said, ‘What enters through the gate is not the family treasure’?”

Xuefeng asked: “What, then, should I do hereafter?”

Yantou said: “If in the future you wish to propagate the great teaching, everything must flow forth from your own breast. Then one day you will join me in covering heaven and earth.”

At these words Xuefeng attained great awakening. He bowed, rose, and cried out repeatedly: “Today, at last, I have accomplished the Way on Mount Ao!” Later, the Master returned to the region of Min and dwelt on Mount Xianggu. He composed this verse and left it behind:

VERSE: Human life rushes swiftly, lasting but a fleeting moment;

How could one dwell long in this transient world?

I had only just left the mountain pass at thirty-two;

When I entered Min, I was already over forty.

There is no need repeatedly to bring up the faults of others;

One’s own errors should urgently be cleared away.

I respectfully inform all the noble lords of the court:

King Yama does not fear the golden-fish insignia at your sash.

TRANSLATION: Human life passes swiftly, like a mayfly;

Who has ever dwelt long in this transient realm?

At thirty and two I had just left the mountain pass;

Past forty years of age, I returned to Min.

There is no need constantly to mention the faults of others;

One’s own errors should urgently be removed.

I respectfully inform all the honored nobles of the court:

King Yama does not fear your golden-fish insignia.

The Master ascended the Dharma hall and instructed the assembly: “Each and every one of you covers heaven and earth. Yet I do not speak of the profound or the wondrous, nor do I speak of mind or nature. Suddenly it appears, like a great mass of fire: draw near and it will burn off your brows and eyelashes. It is like the sword Tai’e: the moment it is brandished, body and life are lost. If you hesitate and deliberate, you have no connection with it.”

Baizhang asked Huangbo: “Where have you come from?”

Huangbo replied: “I have been gathering mushrooms below Mount Daxiong.”

Baizhang asked: “Did you see a tiger?”

Huangbo immediately made the sound of a tiger roaring. Baizhang picked up an axe and made as if to chop him. Huangbo slapped Baizhang once. Baizhang muttered and laughed. When Baizhang returned, he ascended the seat and told the assembly: “There is a tiger on Mount Daxiong. All of you must look carefully. Today this old monk himself was bitten once.”

Whenever Zhaozhou saw a monk, he would ask: “Have you ever been here before?” If the monk replied, “I have,” or, “I have not,” Zhaozhou would always say: “Go drink tea.”

The temple director asked: “Ordinarily, whether you ask a monk if he has been here before and he says he has, or he says he has not, you always tell him to go drink tea. What is the essential meaning of this?”

Zhaozhou called: “Director!”

The director responded: “Yes!”

Zhaozhou said: “Go drink tea.”

At the entrance to Zihu’s monastery stood a tablet bearing the words: “Zihu has a dog. It bites at a person’s head, waist, and legs. Deliberate, and you will lose body and life.” Whenever a monk arrived and had just begun to look at it, the Master would immediately cry: “Look out for the dog!” When the monk turned his head, the Master returned to the abbot’s quarters.

It is just like Xuefeng saying: “On South Mountain there is a great serpent. All of you must look carefully.” At this very moment, how would you respond? Do not imitate the tracks left before you—please, try to answer! When you reach this point, you must understand the phrase beyond convention. Then, whenever any case or saying is brought up, you will immediately know where it comes down.

Look at how the Master instructed the assembly. He did not discuss practice or understanding with you. Can it be fathomed by emotional consciousness? Those who are descendants within the Master’s house naturally speak in accord with it. Therefore, the ancients said: “Relying on the words, you must understand the school’s essential meaning; do not set up rules of your own.” Words must possess what lies beyond convention; phrases must penetrate the barrier. If words do not leave their nest, they fall into the poisonous sea.

Xuefeng instructed the assembly in this way. It may rightly be called tasteless speech that stops people’s mouths. Changqing and Xuansha were both members of that household; only they could understand the Master’s words. Xuefeng said: “On South Mountain there is a great serpent.” Do you know where this comes down? When you reach this point, you must possess the eye that sees in every direction.

Have you not seen Zhenjing’s verse?

VERSE:

Beating the drum and playing the pipa,

When they meet, both adepts understand.

Yunmen can sing and harmonize;

Changqing knows how to follow along.

The ancient melody has neither note nor cadence;

The great serpent coils on South Mountain.

Who can understand this meaning?

It is truly Xuansha.

TRANSLATION:

Beating the drum and plucking the pipa,

When they meet, both houses understand.

Yunmen skillfully sings in harmony;

Changqing ably follows along.

The ancient music has neither note nor cadence;

The great serpent is on South Mountain.

Who can understand that meaning?

It is indeed Xuansha.

What was the meaning of Changqing’s response? When you reach this point, you must be as swift as sparks struck from stone, as a flash of lightning; only then can you seize it. If even the slightest strand of hair remains unsevered, you cannot catch it.

Regrettably, many people give rise to conceptual interpretations beneath Changqing’s words, saying: “As soon as someone in the house hears it, body and life are lost.” Others say: “Originally there is not even the smallest thing; it is right there in the ordinary daylight.” Such talk only causes people to doubt. When they hear the Master say, “On South Mountain there is a great serpent,” they immediately give rise to doubt. If you understand it this way, what connection is there? You are merely making a livelihood out of his words.

If it is not to be understood this way, how should it be understood? Later, a monk repeated the saying to Xuansha. Xuansha said: “Only Elder Brother Leng could do that. Even so, I would not say it that way.”

The monk asked: “What would you say, Venerable?”

Xuansha replied: “What need is there for South Mountain?”

Just look: within Xuansha’s words there is immediately a place to emerge. He simply said, “What need is there for South Mountain?” Had it not been Xuansha, it would truly have been difficult to answer. Xuefeng said: “On South Mountain there is a great serpent.” Tell me, where is it? At this point, only a person who has gone beyond can understand these words.

An ancient said: “Xie Sanlang fishes from the boat; he has no fondness for the great serpent on South Mountain.” When it came to Yunmen, he threw his staff down before Xuefeng and made a show of being frightened. Yunmen possessed the skill of playing with snakes. Without touching the sharp point, he could strike on the bright side and strike on the dark side as well.

The Master ordinarily worked for people as though wielding the sword Tai’e. Sometimes it flew to their brows and eyes; sometimes it flew three thousand miles away to take a person’s head. Yunmen threw down his staff and pretended to be frightened. After all, he was not merely fooling with spirits. Was this not the Master losing body and life? An accomplished master of the ancestral school does not make a livelihood out of a single word or phrase.

Because Xuedou delighted in how Yunmen’s realization accorded with Xuefeng’s meaning, he composed this verse:

VERSE:

Xianggu’s crag is high; no one reaches it.

Whoever reaches it must be a snake handler.

Master Leng and Master Bei can do nothing with it;

How many have lost their bodies and forfeited their lives?

Shaoyang knows, and again parts the grass;

North, South, East, and West—nowhere can it be sought.

Suddenly this staff thrusts forth;

Cast before Xuefeng, whose mouth gapes wide.

His mouth gapes wide—like a flash of lightning;

Even raising the eyebrows, one still cannot see it.

At present it lies hidden before Rufeng;

Let each one who comes examine the expedient means.

TRANSLATION:

Xianggu Mountain is high; no one reaches it;

Whoever reaches it must be a snake-handler.

Master Leng and Master Bei could do nothing—

How many lost their bodies and forfeited their lives?

Shaoyang knows, and again parts the grass;

North, South, East, and West—nowhere can it be sought.

Suddenly this staff thrusts forth;

Cast before Xuefeng, whose mouth gapes wide.

His mouth gapes wide—like a flash of lightning;

Even raising the eyebrows, one still cannot see it.

At present it lies hidden upon Rufeng Peak;

Let each one who comes examine the expedient means.

Xuedou shouted loudly: “Watch beneath your feet!”

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: Regarding the two lines, “Xianggu Mountain is high; no one reaches it; whoever reaches it must be a snake-handler”: below Xuefeng Mountain lies Xianggu Mountain. Xuefeng’s essential activity towered high, and few could reach the Master’s place. Xuedou was a member of the Master’s own house; their wings were alike, like voices responding to one another and like breaths seeking their own kind.

Only an adept who had mastered the way could bear mutual witness with him. This great snake is truly difficult to handle; only a skillful handler can manage it. If one is not a skillful handler, one will be bitten by the snake.

My late teacher Wuzu said: “This great snake requires a gifted and skillful hand if one is to avoid being bitten. Press it once about seven inches behind its head, and it will immediately become still; then it will walk hand in hand with this old monk.” Changqing and Xuansha possessed such skillful hands. Xuedou said, “Master Leng and Master Bei could do nothing.” Many people explain this line by saying that Changqing and Xuansha could do nothing, and that Xuedou therefore praised Yunmen alone.

This is indeed entirely irrelevant. They do not understand that among these three men there was neither gain nor loss in their essential activity; there were only varying degrees of intimacy. Let me ask you: where is the place in which Master Leng and Master Bei could do nothing?

The line “How many lost their bodies and forfeited their lives?” refers to Changqing’s saying, “Today, many people in the house have lost their bodies and forfeited their lives.” On reaching this point, one must be a snake-handler and must proceed carefully. Xuedou came from Yunmen’s lineage, so he swept all the others away and left Yunmen standing alone, saying, “Shaoyang knows, and again parts the grass.” Because Yunmen knew where Xuefeng’s words came down when he said, “On South Mountain there is a great snake,” he therefore “again parts the grass.” When Xuedou’s verse reaches this point, there is yet another subtlety: “North, South, East, and West—nowhere can it be sought.” Where do you say it is?

“Suddenly this staff thrusts forth”—from the beginning, it has been only within this. You must not devise a livelihood upon the staff. Yunmen took his staff and cast it before Xuefeng, making this gesture.

Yunmen employed the staff as the function of the great snake. At times Yunmen said, “The staff transforms into a dragon and swallows the whole universe; where then do the mountains, rivers, and great earth remain?” It is only a single staff: sometimes it becomes a dragon, and sometimes a snake. Why is this so?

Only when you reach this point will you understand the ancient’s words: “The mind turns in accord with the myriad circumstances; the place of turning is truly profound and subtle.” Regarding the two lines, “Cast before Xuefeng, whose mouth gapes wide. His mouth gapes wide—like a flash of lightning”: Xuedou had talent to spare. He brought forth Yunmen’s venomous snake and said, “His mouth gapes wide—like a flash of lightning.” The moment you begin to deliberate, you lose your body and forfeit your life.

“Even raising the eyebrows, one still cannot see it”—where has it gone? Having completed his verse, Xuedou had to arrive at the living place for the sake of others. He seized Xuefeng’s snake himself and handled it himself, unhindered by life or death.

Do you wish to see it at this very moment? He said, “At present it lies hidden upon Rufeng Peak.” Rufeng is the name of Xuedou Mountain. Xuedou composed the verse: “From the stone gate’s four sides, the sky appears narrow; all is utterly still, and no white clouds are seen flying.” Changqing, Xuansha, and Yunmen finished handling it, yet it could not be seen.

He further said, “At present it lies hidden upon Rufeng Peak; let each one who comes examine the expedient means.” Xuedou was still slightly entangled. Without speaking, he immediately acted, then shouted loudly, “Watch beneath your feet!” From ancient times until now, many people have taken this up and played with it. Tell me: have they ever touched the person, or have they never touched the person?

The Master immediately struck.

CASE 23

BAOFU AND CHANGQING WANDER IN THE MOUNTAINS

INTRODUCTORY WORDS: Jade is tested with fire; gold is tested with a touchstone; a sword is tested with a hair; water is sounded with a staff. Within the gate of the Chan monk, with one word or one phrase, one essential activity or one circumstance, one emergence or one entry, one thrust or one push, the purpose is to discern depth and shallowness, and to discern accord and opposition. Tell me, what is used to test them? I invite you to consider the following.

PUBLIC CASE: Baofu and Changqing were wandering in the mountains. Baofu pointed with his hand and said, “Right here is Miaofeng Peak.” Changqing said, “True, it is true—but what a pity!” (Xuedou’s capping phrase: “What did he hope to accomplish by wandering in the mountains with this fellow today?” He also said, “I do not say that there will be none even after hundreds of thousands of years; only that there will be few.”) Later, this was recounted to Jingqing. Jingqing said, “Were it not for Venerable Sun, skulls would immediately be seen covering the ground.”

COMMENTARY: Baofu, Changqing, and Jingqing were all successors of Xuefeng. The three equally attained and equally realized, equally saw and equally heard, equally took up and equally employed; one emerged and one entered, mutually thrusting and pushing. Because these worthies were born of the same tune, as soon as something was said, they knew where it came down.

In Xuefeng’s assembly, these three were the ones most often engaged in questions and answers. The ancients, whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, kept this Way in mind; therefore, as soon as it was raised, they knew where it came down. One day, while wandering in the mountains, Baofu pointed with his hand and said, “Right here is the summit of Miaofeng.” If a Chan monk of the present day were questioned like this, his mouth would resemble a signboard.

Fortunately, the question was put to Changqing. What do you say Baofu intended by speaking in this way? The ancients acted thus in order to test whether the other had eyes or lacked eyes.

One who belonged within that house would naturally know where it came down. Changqing therefore replied, “True, it is true—but what a pity!” Tell me, what was Changqing’s meaning in saying this? One cannot simply proceed in this manner alone.

Though it resembles it, one seldom attains the ease of having nothing to do. Fortunately, Changqing understood him clearly. Xuedou’s capping phrase was: “What did he hope to accomplish by wandering in the mountains with this fellow today?” Tell me, where does this come down?

He also said, “I do not say that there will be none even after hundreds of thousands of years; only that there will be few.” Xuedou skillfully struck the mark, just as Huangbo said, “I do not say there is no Chan; only that there are no teachers.” Xuedou’s words were indeed perilously incisive. If it were not a case of voices responding to one another, how could it be so solitary, lofty, extraordinary, and strange? This is called a capping phrase that falls on both sides; though it falls on both sides, it abides on neither side.

Later, this was recounted to Jingqing. Jingqing said, “Were it not for Venerable Sun, skulls would immediately be seen covering the ground.” Sun was Changqing’s family name.

A monk asked Zhaozhou, “What is the summit of Miaofeng?” Zhaozhou said, “This old monk will not answer this question of yours.” The monk asked, “Why will you not answer this question?” Zhaozhou said, “If I answered you, I fear you would fall onto level ground.”

The Avatamsaka Sutra says: “The bhiksu Deyun had long remained atop Wonder Peak without descending the mountain. Sudhana came to inquire of him, but for seven days did not meet him. Then one day they met upon another peak.

After Sudhana had paid his respects, Deyun expounded for him the three times within a single thought, the Dharma gate of the universally perceiving radiance of the wisdom of all Buddhas.” Deyun had long refrained from descending the mountain, so why did they meet upon another peak? If you say that Deyun descended the mountain, the sutra says that the bhiksu Deyun had long remained atop Wonder Peak without descending. At this point, where, after all, were Deyun and Sudhana?

Later, Li Tongxuan fashioned a most skillful tangle of vines, saying: “Wonder Peak is the Dharma gate of the one flavor of equality. Each and every thing is true; each and every thing is whole. It is revealed uniquely at the point where there is neither attainment nor loss, neither right nor wrong.

Therefore, when Sudhana did not see him, he had reached the place consonant with intrinsic nature—just as the eye does not see itself, the ear does not hear itself, the finger does not touch itself, a blade does not cut itself, fire does not burn itself, and water does not wash itself.” Here we see that the sutra, out of truly great compassion, provides a means for people to help one another. Thus, it opens a pathway and speaks from the standpoint of the secondary principle, establishing guest and host, function and object, question and answer.

Therefore it is said: The Buddhas do not appear in the world, nor is there any nirvana; yet, as an expedient means to liberate sentient beings, they manifest such events. Tell me, ultimately, how could Jingqing and Xuedou have avoided speaking as they did? At that moment, had their bows and strings not been in accord, surely everyone throughout the whole earth would have seen skulls covering the ground.

Jingqing presented it in this way, and those other two employed it in this way. Below, Xuedou’s verse makes it perfectly clear:

VERSE:

Diệu Phong cô đảnh thảo ly ly

Niêm đắc phân minh phó dữ thùy

Bất thị Tôn Công biện đoan đích

Độc lâu trước địa kỷ nhân tri.

TRANSLATION:

Atop lofty Wonder Peak, the grass grows lush and green;

Clearly grasped—yet to whom can it be entrusted?

Had Master Sun not discerned it thoroughly,

How many would know the skulls covering the earth?

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: In the line “Atop lofty Wonder Peak, the grass grows lush and green,” if you deliberate amid the weeds, when will you ever be finished? As for “Clearly grasped—yet to whom can it be entrusted?” where is the place of clarity? The meaning of this line is that Baofu said, “Right here is Wonder Peak.” In the line “Had Master Sun not discerned it thoroughly,” what principle did Master Sun perceive that caused him to say, “It is so indeed, but what a pity”? Then comes, “How many would know the skulls covering the earth?” Do you understand? Blind!

CASE 24

LIU TIEMO, THE OLD COW

POINTER: Standing loftily atop the highest peak, demons and outsiders cannot know you. Walking deep beneath the profound sea, even the Buddha-eye cannot behold you. Even though your eyes resemble shooting stars and your function is like a flash of lightning, you still cannot avoid being like the numinous tortoise dragging its tail. At this point, what should you do? Let us examine this case.

PUBLIC CASE: Liu Tiemo came to Guishan. Guishan said, “Old cow, you have just arrived.” Liu Tiemo said, “Tomorrow there will be a great vegetarian feast at Mount Tai. Will the Venerable attend?” Guishan let his body fall back and lay down. Liu Tiemo immediately departed.

COMMENTARY: The nun Liu Tiemo was like sparks struck from stone, like a flash of lightning. If you try to deliberate upon her, you will lose your body and your life. When the Way of Chan reaches its crucial point, how could there be so many matters? These two adepts met like accomplished masters: seeing horns through a wall, they immediately knew there was an ox; seeing smoke beyond a mountain, they immediately knew there was fire. Push, and they moved; pull, and they turned.

Guishan said, “After this old monk has reached a hundred years, I shall go to a donor’s house below the mountain and become a water buffalo. On my left flank will be written five characters: ‘Guishan monk Lingyou.’ At that very moment, would it be right to call it the monk of Guishan, or right to call it a water buffalo?” If people were asked this today, they would willingly submit to confusion. Liu Tiemo had practiced Chan for a long time; her function and edge towered high.

People of the time called her Liu Tiemo—Liu the Iron Grinder. She built a hermitage about ten li from Guishan. One day she came to visit Guishan.

As soon as Guishan saw her arrive, he said, “Old cow, you have just arrived.” Liu Tiemo said, “Tomorrow there will be a great vegetarian feast at Mount Tai. Will the Venerable attend?” Guishan let his body fall back and lay down. Liu Tiemo immediately departed.

Look at them: they seem to be having an ordinary conversation, neither Chan nor the Way. Can this be understood as having nothing to do? Guishan was several thousand li from Mount Tai, so why did Liu Tiemo ask Guishan whether he would go to partake of the feast?

Tell me, what is the meaning? Because this old woman understood Guishan’s words, when the shuttle came she simply moved with it. One released and one seized, responding to one another like two mirrors reflecting each other, with no image whatsoever to be seen.

Function matched function, and phrase accorded with phrase. People today may be pulled three times without turning their heads, but this old woman could not be deceived by even a single point. This is not a matter of worldly truth or conceptual views.

It is like a bright mirror upon its stand or a luminous pearl in the palm: when a Hu person comes, a Hu person appears; when a Han person comes, a Han person appears. Because she knew that there is a matter beyond, she acted in this way.

Nowadays, people concentrate only on understanding that there is nothing to do. Master Wuzu Fayan said: “Do not take having something to do as having nothing to do; having something to do always arises from having nothing to do.” If you penetrate this in your inquiry, when you see them speak in this way, it will seem like ordinary people conversing. Most people are obstructed by words and language and therefore do not understand; only an intimate who knows the sound can comprehend them.

For example, Qianfeng instructed the assembly: “When one is raised, you must not raise two. Pass beyond the first level and you fall into the second.” Yunmen stood up and said, “Yesterday a monk came from Tiantai and then went on to Nanyue.” Qianfeng said, “Head cook! Today there will be no communal invitation.” Observe these two: when they released, both released completely; when they gathered in, both gathered in completely. In the Guishan-Yangshan school, this was called the wind blowing, dust rising, and grass swaying within the spheres of object and wisdom. When investigated to its source, it was also called a phrase that separates the body: the meaning communicates, but the words separate. Upon reaching this point, one must turn left and wheel right; only then is one an adept.

VERSE:

Tằng kỵ thiết mã nhập trùng thành

Sắc hạ truyền văn lục quốc thanh

Du ác kim tiên vấn qui khách

Dạ thâm thùy cộng ngự nhai hành.

TRANSLATION:

Once she rode an iron horse into the many-walled citadel;

The imperial decree went forth, resounding through the six kingdoms.

Still grasping the golden whip, she questioned the returning guest:

Deep in the night, who travels with her along the imperial road?

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: Xuedou’s verse is regarded everywhere as supremely excellent. Among his one hundred verses, this one most fully contains the essential principle. Reaching the point of utmost subtlety, it clearly reveals the substance in verse.

“Once she rode an iron horse into the many-walled citadel” describes Liu Tiemo’s arrival in this manner. “The imperial decree went forth, resounding through the six kingdoms” describes Guishan’s question. “Still grasping the golden whip, she questioned the returning guest” refers to Liu Tiemo saying, “Tomorrow there will be a great vegetarian feast at Mount Tai.

Will the Venerable attend?” “Deep in the night, who travels with her along the imperial road?” refers to Guishan letting his body fall back and lying down, and Liu Tiemo departing. Xuedou possessed this kind of wondrous talent: where the matter was urgent, his verse was urgent; where it was relaxed, his verse was relaxed. Fengxue also once raised words identical in meaning to Xuedou’s.

Everywhere this verse is praised as excellent:

VERSE:

Cao Cao Phong đảnh lập

Ma ngoại mạc năng tri

Thâm thâm hải để hành

Phật nhãn thứ bất kiến.

TRANSLATION:

Standing atop the highest peak,

Demons and outsiders cannot know;

Walking beneath the deepest sea,

Even the Buddha-eye cannot behold.

See: one person lets go of his body and lies down; another immediately walks away. If one were again to cover everything over, no path could be found. Xuedou’s verse expresses the meaning exceedingly well: “Once he rode an iron horse into the many-walled citadel.” If he had not traveled the same path and realized the same truth, how could he have spoken thus?

Tell me, what does this mean? Have you not heard of the monk who came and asked Fengxue, “Guishan said, ‘Only when you become an old cow will you arrive.’ What is the essential meaning of this?” Fengxue replied, “Where white clouds gather thickly, the golden dragon dances.” The monk asked, “Liu Tiemo said, ‘Tomorrow there will be a great vegetarian feast on Mount Tai. Will the Venerable attend?’ What is the essential meaning of this?” Fengxue replied, “In the heart of the blue waves, the moon moves.” The monk asked, “What is the essential meaning of Guishan’s lying down like that?” Fengxue replied, “Old and lean, with nothing to do all day, he lies high and sleeps at leisure atop the green mountain.” This meaning is also the same as Xuedou’s.

CASE 25

THE HERMIT OF LOTUS PEAK HOLDS UP HIS STAFF

POINTER: When the functioning does not depart from its position, one falls into a poisonous sea; when words do not startle the assembly, they descend into vulgar convention. Suddenly, amid the collision of flint and the flash of a spark, one distinguishes black from white; in the interval of a lightning flash, one discerns life and death. Then one may sit and cut off the ten directions, like a wall rising a thousand fathoms. But do you know that there is such a time? Let us see it presented.

PUBLIC CASE: The hermit of Lotus Peak held up his staff and instructed the assembly: “Why did the ancients, upon reaching this place, refuse to remain?” The assembly could not answer, so he answered for them: “Because the road afforded them no strength.” He then said, “Ultimately, how is it?” Again he answered for them: “Staff across the shoulders, paying no heed to anyone, he goes straight into the thousand peaks and ten thousand peaks.”

COMMENTARY: Can you discern the hermit of Lotus Peak? His heels had not yet touched the ground. In the early years of the dynasty, the Master built a hermitage atop Lotus Peak on Mount Tiantai.

After attaining the Way, the ancients dwelt in thatched huts and stone chambers, boiling wild vegetable roots in cracked pots to sustain themselves through the days. They sought neither fame nor profit, but lived freely in accord with conditions, offering a turning word solely to repay the kindness of the Buddhas and patriarchs and transmit the Buddha’s mind-seal. Whenever he saw a monk approaching, the Master would raise his staff and say, “Why did the ancients, upon reaching this place, refuse to remain?” For more than twenty years, no one was able to answer.

This single question contains both provisional and real, illumination and function. If anyone could recognize the Master’s snare, he would not need even a single hand seal. Tell me, why did he ask only this for twenty years?

Since he was a master of the lineage, why did he cling to a single stake? If you can see through this, naturally you will not run after the dust of deluded feelings. During those twenty years, many people debated and exchanged answers with the Master, presented their understandings, and employed every possible device.

Even those who could say something did not reach the Master’s ultimate point. Moreover, although this matter does not lie within words and phrases, without words and phrases it cannot be discussed. Have you not heard it said, “The Way is fundamentally without words, yet through words the Way is revealed”?

Therefore, when testing whether someone has reached the ultimate place, the moment he opens his mouth he reveals whether he is a kindred spirit. When the ancients uttered a word or half a phrase, they had no other purpose than to see whether you “knew what is” or “did not know what is.” Seeing that no one understood, the Master answered for them: “Because the road afforded them no strength.” See how what the Master said naturally accorded with both principle and capacity and never departed from the essential teaching.

An ancient said, “Relying upon the words, you must understand the source; do not establish rules of your own.” People today concern themselves only with being able to drag something along and consider the matter finished. They may have attained something, yet it remains a confused and jumbled mess. If, before an accomplished adept, they were tested with the three essential expressions—“the seal in space, the seal in mud, and the seal in water”—one would immediately see a square peg meeting a round hole, with no point of entry.

Having reached this place, where could one look for someone who had attained and realized the same truth? If one who “knows what is” opens his heart and communicates the message, what difficulty could there be? But if you do not meet a kindred spirit, you should roll it up and keep it within your breast.

Let me ask you: the staff is an implement that always accompanies a Chan monk, so why did he say that the road afforded them no strength? Why did the ancients, upon arriving here, refuse to remain? In truth, although gold dust is precious, when it falls into the eye it becomes an affliction.

In those days, when the Venerable Shandao of the Stone Chamber was dismissed from his post, he would often take up his staff and instruct the assembly, saying, “The Buddhas of the past were thus; the Buddhas of the future will be thus; the Buddhas of the present are also thus.”

One day, before the Sangha hall, Xuefeng held up his staff and instructed the assembly: “This is intended chiefly for those of middling and lesser faculties.” A monk stepped forward and asked, “What if someone of the highest faculties suddenly arrives?” Xuefeng raised his staff and walked away. Yunmen said, “I am not like Xuefeng, who smashes everything to pieces.” A monk asked, “I do not yet know what the Venerable would do.” Yunmen immediately struck him.

In the practice of inquiry, there are not many matters. Because outwardly you see mountains, rivers, and the great earth; inwardly you see seeing, hearing, understanding, and knowing; above, you see Buddhas to be sought; and below, you see sentient beings to be delivered—you must vomit them all out at once. Only then, throughout the twelve hours of the day, whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, will everything become one seamless whole.

Though on the tip of a single hair, it is as vast as a great trichiliocosm; though amid cauldrons of boiling oil and blazing furnaces, it is as though dwelling in a land of bliss; though amid the seven precious substances and eight treasures, it is as though beneath a thatched roof with leafy walls. When an adept who penetrates all directions reaches the true place of the ancients, naturally no effort is wasted. Seeing that no one understood his meaning, the Master himself pressed the question: “Ultimately, how is it?” Again no one could do anything, so the Master himself said: “Staff across the shoulders, paying no heed to anyone, he goes straight into the thousand peaks and ten thousand peaks.” What does this mean?

Tell me, precisely where is the destination? Indeed, within the phrase there is an eye, and beyond the words there is meaning. He stands by himself and topples by himself; he releases by himself and gathers in by himself.

Have you not heard that Venerable Yanyang encountered a monk on the road, immediately raised his staff, and asked, “What is this?” The monk replied, “I do not know!” The Venerable said, “You do not even know a staff.” The Venerable then used the staff to poke a hole in the ground and asked, “Do you know now?” The monk replied, “I do not know!” The Venerable said, “You do not even know a hole in the ground.” The Venerable placed the staff on his shoulder and said, “Do you understand?” The monk replied, “I do not understand!” The Venerable said, “Staff across the shoulders, paying no heed to anyone, he goes straight into the thousand peaks and ten thousand peaks.”

Why did the ancients, upon reaching this place, refuse to remain? Xuedou composed a verse:

Why is this so? This mountain monk says: “See the cheek beneath the head; do not keep going back and forth. The moment comparison arises, you are making a livelihood in a demon cave within the black mountain.” If you see through completely and can trust it fully, then even if a thousand or ten thousand people surround you, naturally they will be unable to stop you. Nothing can be done about it: whenever it is moved or touched, naturally there is death and there is life. Xuedou understood the meaning of “going straight into the thousand peaks and ten thousand peaks,” and thus composed this verse. If you wish to know where it comes down, look at Xuedou’s verse:

VERSE:

Nhãn lý trần sa, nhĩ lý thổ

Thiên phong vạn phong bất khẳng trụ

Lạc hoa lưu thủy thái man man

Dịch khởi mi mao hà xứ khứ?

TRANSLATION:

Sand and dust in the eyes, earth in the ears;

Amid a thousand peaks and ten thousand peaks, he refuses to remain.

Fallen blossoms and flowing water drift boundlessly;

Raise your eyebrows and see—where has he gone?

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: Xuedou’s verse is truly excellent; it contains a place for turning the body around and does not cling to one corner. He immediately says, “Sand in the eyes, earth in the ears.” This line of verse means that when Chan travelers came to the hermitage master of Lotus Peak, above he did not reach upward for support, below he cut off even himself, and at all times he seemed dull-witted and foolish. Nanquan said, “Even among students of the Way, one who is like a simpleton is difficult to find.” Chanyue wrote in a poem: “I often recall Nanquan’s fine words; even those who are like simpletons are still few.” Fadeng said, “Who understands this meaning?

It makes me remember Nanquan.” Nanquan also said, “The seven hundred eminent monks were all people who understood the Buddha-Dharma. Only Layman Lu did not understand the Buddha-Dharma; he understood only the Way. Therefore he received the robe and bowl of the Fifth Patriarch.” Tell me, how far apart are the Buddha-Dharma and the Way?

Xuedou raised this, saying, “Sand must not be allowed to lodge in the eyes, and water must not be allowed to lodge in the ears. If someone can arrive at faith, take hold, and stand firm without being deceived by others, then how are the teachings of the Buddhas and Patriarchs any different from the clatter of bowls? I bid you hang your bag and bowl high, break your staff and cast it away, and simply remain an unconcerned person of the Way.” He also said, “One who can place Mount Sumeru within the eyes and contain the waters of the great ocean within the ears is worthy of being consulted.

For such a person, the teachings of the Buddhas and Patriarchs are like a dragon finding water or a tiger resting against a mountain. Once again he shoulders his bag and bowl and carries his staff; he too is an unconcerned person of the Way.” He also said, “To be thus will not do, and not to be thus will not do; only thereafter is there no further involvement whatsoever.”

Among these three unconcerned persons of the Way, it is essential to choose one as a teacher—precisely the one capable of casting iron into implements. Why? Because when this person encounters an evil situation or an extraordinary situation, whatever appears before his eyes is all like a dream.

He is unaware that there are six faculties and is likewise unaware of morning and evening. Even upon reaching this kind of ground, one must above all avoid guarding cold ashes and dead water and going straight into a dark, obscure place. There must be a road on which to turn the body around.

An ancient said, “Do not remain on the cold mountain where the green grass is strange; to sit waiting for the clouds to fly past is altogether inept.” Therefore the hermitage master of Lotus Peak said, “Because on the road ahead it has no strength.” One must tread over a thousand peaks and ten thousand peaks. Tell me, what are these thousand peaks and ten thousand peaks? Xuedou especially admired the master’s saying, “He immediately flips his staff and carries it crosswise, pays no heed to anyone, and goes straight into a thousand peaks and ten thousand peaks”; therefore he brought it out in verse.

Tell me, where does he go? Is there anyone who knows where he has gone? The line “Falling flowers and flowing water drift into the boundless distance” means that flowers fall in wild profusion and the waters flow on endlessly.

For one whose functioning is like a flash of lightning, what is directly before the eyes? As for the line “Raise your eyebrows and look—where is he?” why does even Xuedou not know where he has gone? It is like when this mountain monk raised the whisk a moment ago: tell me, where is it now?

If you can see, you are fellow students with the hermitage master of Lotus Peak. If you have not yet seen, then beneath the three rafters and before the seven-foot sitting platform, investigate it thoroughly and see!

CASE 26

BAIZHANG SITS ALONE ATOP DAXIONG PEAK

PUBLIC CASE: A monk asked Baizhang, “What is the extraordinary matter?” Baizhang replied, “Sitting alone atop Daxiong Peak.” The monk bowed. Baizhang immediately struck him.

COMMENTARY: When one encounters the pivotal opportunity with eyes fully open, one pays no heed to danger or death. Thus it is said, “Unless one enters the tiger’s cave, how can one obtain the tiger cub?” Ordinarily, Baizhang seemed like a tiger given wings. This monk too had no fear of life or death and dared to pluck the tiger’s whiskers, so he asked, “What is the extraordinary matter?” Since this monk possessed the clear eye, Baizhang entrusted the matter to him, saying, “Sitting alone atop Daxiong Peak.” The monk immediately bowed.

A Chan monk must be able to discern the meaning before the question is asked. This monk’s bow was not the same as an ordinary daily bow; only someone possessing the clear eye could do this. Do not pour out the liver and gall of your whole life before another; though knowing one another, they were again as if they did not know one another.

Just observe the monk asking, “What is the extraordinary matter?” Baizhang said, “Sitting alone atop Daxiong Peak.” The monk bowed, and Baizhang immediately struck him. See how, when released, both were right at the same time; when gathered in, all traces were swept away. Tell me, what was the meaning of “the monk immediately bowed”?

If you say it was good, why did Baizhang strike him? If you say it was not good, what was wrong with his bow? Arriving here, one must know good from bad, clearly distinguish black from white, and stand upon a thousand mountain peaks.

This monk’s immediate bow was like plucking the tiger’s whiskers; he merely seized the place where one turns the body around. Fortunately, Baizhang possessed an eye at the crown of his head and held in his hand a divine tally illuminating the four continents. He clearly discerned the wind as it came, and therefore immediately struck him.

Had it been someone else, he could have done nothing with the monk. This monk met function with function and used intention to subdue intention; therefore he bowed.

For example, Nanquan said, “In the third watch last night, Manjusri and Samantabhadra gave rise to views of Buddha and views of Dharma. I gave each of them twenty blows and banished them to the two Iron Encircling Mountains.” Zhaozhou came forward from the assembly and asked, “Whom would the Venerable Master have receive your blows?” Nanquan said, “What fault does Old Teacher Wang have?” Zhaozhou immediately bowed.

Ordinarily, a master of the School does not reveal the place of his functioning, but as soon as he encounters the pivotal moment and brings it forth, he naturally becomes vividly alive and active. My late teacher Wuzu often said, “It is like fighting before a horse. You need only train continually so that seeing and hearing, sound and form, are cut off all at once; then take hold, stand firm, and act as master. Only then will you see that Baizhang.” Tell me, what should be done when it is released? See Xuedou’s verse:

VERSE:

In the Patriarchs’ realm, contending—a heavenly steed;

The gate of transformation unfolds and rolls up, not following the same road.

Amid lightning flashes and sparks struck from stone, pivotal transformations remain;

How laughable—the man who comes to pluck the tiger’s whiskers!

TRANSLATION:

Across the Patriarchs’ land races the heavenly steed;

Unfurled or rolled, the gate of transformation follows no common road.

In lightning’s flash and sparks from stone, pivotal change remains;

How uproariously one laughs at the man who plucks the tiger’s whiskers!

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: Only because Xuedou saw through it completely could he produce this verse. A heavenly steed is a horse that runs a thousand miles in a single day, racing vertically and horizontally as swiftly as flight. Xuedou’s verse means that within the realm of the Patriarchs, Baizhang ran from east to west and from west to east, going back and forth, moving freely in every direction, entirely unobstructed, like a heavenly steed. Only when one can skillfully come and go does one reveal the place of freedom. This is to attain Mazu’s great function and great activity.

A monk asked Mazu, “What is the great meaning of the Buddha-Dharma?” Mazu immediately struck him and said, “If I did not strike you, the people of the world would laugh at me.” The monk again asked, “What is the meaning of the Patriarch’s coming from the West?” Mazu said, “Come closer, and I will tell you.” The monk drew near. Mazu slapped him on the ear and said, “The six do not share the same strategy.”

From this one can clearly see that he had attained complete freedom and ease. In establishing the gate of transformation, he sometimes unfurled it and sometimes rolled it up. Sometimes the unfurling was not within the rolling up; sometimes the rolling up was not within the unfurling; and sometimes neither rolling nor unfurling remained. Therefore it is said, “They share the same road but not the same tracks.” This line of verse says that Baizhang possessed this skill.

Xuedou’s verse, “Amid lightning flashes and sparks struck from stone, pivotal transformations remain,” says that this monk was like a flash of lightning or sparks struck from colliding stones, effecting a pivotal transformation within a single instant. Yantou said, “To release things is superior; to follow things is inferior. If one discusses a Dharma battle, each must be at the point of turning.” Xuedou said, “Before the wheel has ever turned, once it turns it must run to both ends.” If one cannot turn it, of what use is it?

A great person must know something of pivotal transformation. People today merely concern themselves with supplying provisions for others; they let others pierce their nostrils and lead them about—when will they ever awaken? Within the flash of lightning and the spark of fire, this monk skillfully achieved a pivotal transformation and immediately bowed.

Xuedou’s verse, “How laughable—the man who comes to pluck the tiger’s whiskers!” says that Baizhang was like a tiger, and he laughs uproariously at this monk who came to pluck the tiger’s whiskers.

CASE 27

YUNMEN PERSONALLY REVEALS THE AUTUMN WIND

INTRODUCTORY WORDS: When asked one question, answer ten; when one is raised, illuminate three. On seeing a rabbit, release the hawk; taking advantage of the wind, fan the fire. Setting aside for the moment the matter of not begrudging one’s eyebrows, what about when entering the tiger’s cave? Try to present it and see.

CASE: A monk asked Yunmen, “What is it like when the leaves have fallen and the branches are bare?” Yunmen replied, “The body is exposed in the autumn wind.”

EXPLANATION: Only if you can advance within this will you see Yunmen’s way of acting for people. If you cannot, you remain as before, one who points to a deer and calls it a horse, dim-eyed and deaf-eared. Who can reach this realm?

Tell me: Did Yunmen answer the monk’s words, or did he respond in kind for his sake? If you say he answered the monk’s words, you have mistaken the balance weight for the balance board—a fixed standard. If you say he responded in kind for his sake, what relevance would that have?

Since it is neither of these, what is it ultimately? If you can see through it, a Chan monk’s nostrils need not be troubled by the press of a finger. If you cannot, you will go straight into the demon’s cave as before.

Anyone who establishes the vehicle of the lineage must shoulder it with the whole body, not begrudging his eyebrows, and lie crosswise in the tiger’s jaws, letting it drag him sideways or pull him lengthwise. Without being like this, how could one act for people?

This monk’s question was truly perilous. Viewed as an ordinary matter, he merely resembles an idle monk. But when examined beneath the gate of a Chan monk, at the place of the vital artery, it truly has a wondrous point. Tell me: “The leaves have fallen and the branches are bare”—whose realm is this? Among the eighteen modes of questioning, this is called “discerning the host”; it is also called “asking by borrowing a circumstance.” Without shifting so much as a hair’s breadth, Yunmen simply told him, “The body is exposed in the autumn wind.” This was an excellent answer, and it did not fail the questioner. The place from which the question came had a clear eye, and the response was also true and proper.

An ancient said, “If you wish to attain intimacy, do not bring a question to ask.” If one is a true connoisseur, as soon as words are spoken, one knows where they fall. If you seek within the verbal current of Yunmen, you are mistaken. It is simply that Yunmen’s phrases often delight in arousing people’s conceptual interpretations.

If you understand them through conceptual interpretation, you cannot avoid burying all my descendants. Yunmen delighted in mounting the bandit’s horse to pursue the bandit in this way. Have you not seen how a monk asked, “What is the place beyond deliberation?” Yunmen replied, “Discriminating consciousness is difficult to fathom.” This monk asked, “What is it like when the leaves have fallen and the branches are bare?” Yunmen replied, “The body is exposed in the autumn wind.” Within this phrase he truly cuts off the essential ford, allowing passage to neither ordinary people nor sages.

You must understand that when the Master raises one, he illuminates three, and when he raises three, he illuminates one. If you search within those three phrases, you are pulling an arrow from the back of your head.

Within a single phrase of the Master, the three phrases must be complete: “covering heaven and earth,” “following the waves,” and “cutting off all streams.” Then it naturally accords. Among the three phrases, tell me which one Yunmen used to receive the monk. Try to discern it.

VERSE:

The question already had its source;

The answer likewise followed the same.

The three phrases can be discerned;

A single arrowhead pierces the void.

Over the vast moor—how briskly the cool wind blows;

Across the boundless sky—the sparse rain falls in a fine mist.

Do you not see?

At Shaolin, long seated, the traveler had not yet returned;

Silently resting on Mount Xiong’er—a single rank of pines.

TRANSLATION:

The question already had its source;

The answer likewise followed the same.

The three phrases can be discerned;

A single arrowhead pierces the void.

Over the vast moor—how briskly the cool wind blows;

Across the boundless sky—the sparse rain gently sprinkles.

Do you not see?

At Shaolin, long seated, the traveler had not yet returned;

Silently resting on Mount Xiong’er—a single rank of pines.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: An ancient said, “Relying on the words, one must understand the source; do not establish rules of your own.” The words of the ancients were not empty. Therefore it is said that whenever one asks about a matter, one must know a little of what is good and bad. If one does not know how to approach according to high and low, or know where one touches or violates purity, and merely speaks recklessly at will, what benefit can there be?

Whenever one utters words or exhales breath, it must be like pincers and tweezers, with hooks and locks; it must continue without interruption. This monk’s question had a source and essential meaning, and Yunmen’s answer did as well. Yunmen ordinarily used the three phrases to receive people; this is the ultimate standard.

Xuedou’s verse on this case resembles his verse on the case of Dalong.

“The three phrases can be discerned”: within one phrase, the three phrases are complete. If you can discern them, you escape beyond the three phrases. “A single arrowhead pierces the void”: the character “cu” means an arrowhead shot very far away; one must swiftly fix one’s gaze upon it to see it. If you see it clearly, you can unfold the entire great-thousand world-system beneath a single phrase. At this point the verse was already complete. Yet Xuedou had talent to spare and expanded it further:

“Over the vast moor—how briskly the cool wind blows;
Across the boundless sky—the sparse rain falls in a fine mist.”

Tell me: Is this mind or environment? Is it mysterious or wondrous? An ancient said, “Dharma after Dharma is never concealed; from ancient times to the present it has always been plainly revealed.” A monk asked, “What is it like when the leaves have fallen and the branches are bare?” Yunmen replied, “The body is exposed in the autumn wind.” Xuedou’s intent simply forms a single scene: just as now, before your eyes, the wind softly wafts. If it is not the southeast wind, it is the northwest wind. You must understand it in this way. If you give rise to an understanding of the Chan Way, it immediately has no connection.

“Do you not see? At Shaolin, long seated, the traveler had not yet returned.” Before the Patriarch Bodhidharma returned to the Western Land, he sat for nine years facing the wall in silence. Is this “the leaves have fallen and the branches are bare,” or “the body is exposed in the autumn wind”? If, within this, you can sweep clean ancient and present, ordinary people and sages, and knead heaven, earth, and the great world into a single mass, only then will you clearly see how Yunmen and Xuedou acted for people.

“Silently resting on Mount Xiong’er—a single rank of pines.” Mount Xiong’er refers to Shaolin on Mount Song in the Western Capital. Before the mountain are countless layers of pines, and behind the mountain are also countless layers of pines. At what place do you see? Do you also see how Xuedou acted for people? This, too, is the numinous tortoise dragging its tail.

CASE 28

NANQUAN’S DHARMA THAT HAS NOT BEEN SPOKEN

CASE: Nanquan went to consult the Nirvana Preceptor on Mount Baizhang. Baizhang asked, “From ancient times onward, have the sages had any Dharma that they did not expound to people?” Nanquan replied, “They have.” Baizhang asked, “What is the Dharma that they did not expound to people?” Nanquan replied, “It is not mind, not Buddha, and not a thing.” Baizhang said, “You have already spoken it.” Nanquan asked, “I am only thus. What about you, Preceptor?” Baizhang said, “I am not a great spiritual friend; how would I know whether it has been spoken or not?” Nanquan said, “I do not understand.” Baizhang said, “I have already finished explaining it fully for you.”

EXPLANATION: Upon reaching this point, there is no need for “it is mind” or “it is not mind”; there is no need for “not mind” or “not not-mind.” Directly, from head to foot, there is not even a single eyebrow, yet there still remains a slight degree of comparison. “It is mind” and “it is not mind”: Chan Master Shou regarded these as affirmative exposition and negating exposition.

Nirvana was the monk Chan Master Fazheng. Formerly, while serving as the Western Hall at Baizhang’s monastery, he instructed the assembly to clear fields, thereby expounding the great meaning. At that time, Nanquan had already met Mazu and needed only to visit various places to discern and resolve the matter.

Baizhang posed a question exceedingly difficult to answer: “Since ancient times, have the sages possessed a Dharma that they did not expound to people?” Were it this mountain monk, I would merely cover my ears and walk away, seeing this old fellow’s whole performance as a tangle of confusion. But an adept, upon hearing the Master ask in this way, would immediately know how to break through it. Nanquan answered according to his insight: “They have.” Thus, like reckless Meng Balang,(1) Baizhang carried error into error and pursued him further, saying: “What is the Dharma that was not expounded to people?” Nanquan replied: “It is not mind, not Buddha, and not a thing.” This old fellow delighted in gazing at the moon in the sky and dropped the pearl from his hand.

Baizhang said: “You have already spoken it.” What a pity! He explained it away for him. At that very moment, he should simply have struck him across the spine and let him know pain and anguish.

Even so, tell me: where was it already spoken? According to Nanquan’s insight, “not mind, not Buddha, and not a thing” had never been spoken of at all. Let me ask you: why, then, did Baizhang say, “You have already spoken it”?

Beneath the Master’s words there is no trace. If you say the Master did not speak, why did Baizhang speak in that way? Nanquan was a man of fluid adaptability, so he immediately countered with a thrust: “I am only thus.

What about you, Reverend?” Someone else could hardly have avoided confusion. Who would have expected Baizhang to be an adept? His reply was truly extraordinary: “I am not a great spiritual teacher.

How would I know whether it has been spoken or not?” Nanquan said: “I do not understand.” Did he understand and then say that he did not, or did he truly not understand? Baizhang said: “I have explained it fully for you.” Tell me, where did he explain it? If they were merely people playing with clods of earth, both would be entangled in confusion.

If both were adepts, it would be like a bright mirror upon its stand. In truth, in the first part both were adepts; in the latter part both let the matter pass. Those with clear eyes should discern this plainly.

Tell me, how can they be tested? See Xuedou’s verse:

VERSE:

The Patriarchs and Buddhas have never expounded it to people;

Monastics past and present race headlong after it.

A bright mirror on its stand displays disparate forms;

Each and every one faces south and gazes at the Northern Dipper.

The Dipper’s handle hangs down—nowhere can it be sought;

Grasping the nostrils, one loses the mouth.

TRANSLATION:

The Patriarchs and Buddhas have never expounded it to people;

Chan monks past and present race after it.

A bright mirror on its stand displays wondrous forms;

Each and every one faces south and gazes at the Northern Dipper.

The starry handle hangs down—nowhere can it be found;

Grasping the nostrils, one loses the mouth.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: Buddha Shakyamuni appeared in the world and for forty-nine years never spoke a single word. From the Land of Radiant Splendor at the beginning to the Bati River at the end, throughout the interval he never spoke a single word. In saying this, did he speak or did he not speak?

At present, the Dragon Palace is full and the Ocean Treasury overflows; how can it be said that he did not speak? Listen to Head Monk Xiu, who said: “The Buddhas did not appear in the world, yet they preached for forty-nine years. Bodhidharma did not come from the West, yet Shaolin possesses the marvelous secret.” It is also said: “The Buddhas never appeared in the world, nor was there a single Dharma to give to people.

They merely observed the minds of sentient beings and, according to their capacities, prescribed medicine suited to their illnesses. They established skillful means, and thus there came to be the three vehicles and the twelve divisions of the teachings.” In truth, from ancient times to the present, the Buddhas and Patriarchs have never expounded it to people. You must thoroughly investigate precisely this “not expounding it to people.” This mountain monk often says: “If one adds a single phrase, it tastes as sweet as honey and sugar, but upon careful examination it is truly poisonous medicine.

Only by striking the spine, slapping the mouth, and shoving one outside does one show intimate kindness to people.” Chan monks past and present race after it, traveling everywhere and asking about what is right and what is wrong, asking about Buddhas and Patriarchs, and asking about what is beyond and what is beneath. Even so, if you have not yet reached this ground, you must be like “a bright mirror on its stand displaying disparate forms.” A single phrase alone is enough to discern it clearly.

An ancient said: “The myriad forms in all their profusion are the impressions of the one Dharma.” It is also said: “All the myriad forms in their profusion are perfectly complete within it.” Great Master Shenxiu said:

Great Master Daman said: “You have only reached outside the gate.” Xuedou spoke in this way; tell me, was he inside the gate or outside it? Every one of you has an ancient mirror in which all the myriad forms—long and short, square and round—each and every one are manifested. If you understand it in terms of long and short, then suddenly, when you seek it, it cannot be found.

Therefore Xuedou said, “A bright mirror on its stand displays disparate forms,” yet it must also be that “each and every one faces south and gazes at the Northern Dipper.” Since they are facing south, why do they gaze at the Northern Dipper? If you can understand it in this way, you will see where Baizhang and Nanquan met one another. These two lines versify the point at which Baizhang pushed the matter aside, saying: “I am not a great spiritual teacher.

How would I know whether it has been spoken or not?” Having versified up to this point, Xuedou fell into stagnant water. Fearing that people might misunderstand, he immediately raised it up: Right now, before your eyes, “the Dipper’s handle hangs down”—where will you go to seek it? The moment you “grasp the nostrils, you lose the mouth”; when you grasp the mouth, you have already lost the nostrils.

CASE 29

DASUI: IT FOLLOWS THAT AND DEPARTS

INTRODUCTION: A fish swims and the water grows turbid; a bird flies and feathers fall. Clearly discern host and guest; distinctly separate white and black. It is like a bright mirror upon its stand or a luminous pearl in the hand: when a Hu comes, a Hu appears; when a Han comes, a Han appears. It reveals sound and manifests form. Tell me, why is it thus? Let us see the case.

PUBLIC CASE: A monk asked Dasui: “When the kalpa fire blazes and the great trichiliocosm is entirely destroyed, I wonder whether this is destroyed or not?” Dasui replied: “It is destroyed.”

The monk asked: “If so, does it follow that and depart?”

Dasui replied: “It follows that and departs.”

EXPLANATION: Master Chân Như of Đại Tùy was a Dharma successor of Chan Master Đại An. A native of Diêm Đình District in Đông Xuyên, he went to consult more than sixty spiritual teachers. Formerly, while in the assembly of Qui Sơn, the Master served as head cook.

One day Qui Sơn asked, “You have been here for many years, yet I have never known you to put a question. Why not ask one and let us see?” The Master said, “What would you have me ask?” Qui Sơn said, “Why do you not ask what the Buddha is?” The Master immediately covered Qui Sơn’s mouth with his hand. Qui Sơn said, “Later on, you will not find even a man who sweeps the ground.” Afterward, the Master returned to Đông Xuyên.

At first, he established a tea stall on the road ascending Bằng Khẩu Mountain to receive travelers, and remained there for three years. Later, he opened the Dharma hall to teach the assembly and took up residence at Đại Tùy.

A monk asked, “When the kalpa fire blazes and the great trichiliocosm is entirely destroyed, I do not know whether this is destroyed or not?” This monk was merely relying on the scriptures in posing his question. The scriptures speak of formation, abiding, destruction, and emptiness; when the three calamities of the kalpa arise, destruction reaches as far as the Third Dhyāna Heaven. This monk had never known where the critical phrase came down.

What is “this”? Many people give rise to conceptual interpretations and say, “This is the original nature of sentient beings.” Đại Tùy said, “It is destroyed.” The monk asked, “If so, does it go along with that?” Đại Tùy replied, “It goes along with that.” How many people have tried to fathom this through conceptual interpretation and failed! If one says it goes along with that, where does it go?

If one says it does not go along with that, then why can it not be seen? Therefore it is said: If you wish to attain intimacy, do not bring a question to ask.

Later, a monk asked Master Tu Sơn, “When the kalpa fire blazes and the great trichiliocosm is entirely destroyed, I do not know whether this is destroyed or not?” Master Tu Sơn replied, “It is not destroyed.” The monk asked, “Why is it not destroyed?” Master Tu Sơn replied, “Because it is the same as the great trichiliocosm.” Saying it is destroyed also blocks people off and kills them; saying it is not destroyed also blocks people off and kills them. That monk did not understand Đại Tùy’s words, yet he kept the matter in mind without hindrance. Carrying his doubt, he went directly to Đầu Tử Mountain in Thơ Châu. Đầu Tử asked, “Where have you just come from?”

The monk replied, “Đại Tùy Mountain in Western Thục.” Đầu Tử asked, “What sayings does Đại Tùy have?” The monk then repeated the earlier question and answer. Đầu Tử lit incense, bowed, and said, “An ancient Buddha has appeared in Western Thục. You should return there quickly.” When the monk returned to Đại Tùy, Đại Tùy had already passed away. This monk had gone through one long bout of confusion. Later, during the Tang dynasty, the monk Cảnh Tuân inscribed this verse concerning Đại Tùy:

Clearly there is no other Dharma;

Who speaks of the seal of Southern Năng?

One phrase—“goes along with that”;

The Chan monk traversed a thousand mountains.

Cold crickets chirp among heaps of leaves;

Night ghosts bow before lantern cages.

Having finished chanting outside the lonely window,

He paces to and fro, his regret without end.

Therefore, below, Tuyết Đậu draws upon two of these lines in his verse. Now you must not give rise to an understanding of destruction, nor may you give rise to an understanding of non-destruction. Ultimately, how should this be understood? Look quickly!

VERSE:

Kiếp hỏa quang trung lập vấn đoan

Nạp tăng du trệ lưỡng trùng quang

Khả lân nhất cú tùy tha ngữ

Vạn lý khu khu độc vãng hoàn.

TRANSLATION:

Amid the brilliant kalpa fire, the question is framed;

The Chan monk remains caught at the double barrier.

Pitiful—just the single phrase, “goes along with that”;

For ten thousand miles he toils, going and returning alone.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: Tuyết Đậu responds directly to the occasion in his verse; within its lines there is a way to emerge: “Amid the brilliant kalpa fire, the question is framed; the Chan monk remains caught at the double barrier.” The monk’s earlier question harbored both destruction and non-destruction; this was to be caught at a double barrier. For one who has attained, saying “destroyed” also provides a way to emerge, and saying “not destroyed” also provides a way to emerge. The two lines, “Pitiful—just the single phrase, ‘goes along with that’; for ten thousand miles he toils, going and returning alone,” celebrate the monk who carried his question to Đầu Tử and then returned to Đại Tùy. This may indeed be called toiling for ten thousand miles.

CASE 30

TRIỆU CHÂU’S LARGE RADISHES

PUBLIC CASE: A monk asked Triệu Châu, “I have heard that you personally met Nam Tuyền. Is that so?” Triệu Châu replied, “Trấn Châu produces large radishes.”

EXPLANATION: This monk, too, belonged to the ranks of those who had investigated for a long time; there was indeed an eye in his question. Little did he expect Triệu Châu to be an adept. Triệu Châu immediately replied, “Trấn Châu produces large radishes.” This may truly be called a tasteless saying that stops people’s mouths.

This old fellow was like a robber in broad daylight: as soon as you opened your mouth, he plucked out your eyeballs. If one is exceptionally accomplished and spiritually keen, right there, within the flash of flint and the spark of lightning, one hears it mentioned and immediately departs. But if one remains silent to ponder and halts to deliberate, one cannot avoid losing body and life.

In Giang Tây, Trừng Tán Thánh Phán said that this was asking about the east and answering about the west; he called it a reply that did not answer the question and did not enter another person’s cage or snare. If you understand it in this way, how could that possibly do? Lord Viễn Lục said, “This is a sideways-looking phrase, included among the nine belts.” If you understand it in this way, you have not seen it even in a dream, and you further implicate Triệu Châu.

Some say, “From ancient times until now, Trấn Châu has produced large radishes, and everyone knows this. Ever since Triệu Châu went to meet Nam Tuyền, everyone has also known it. This monk came and asked, ‘I have heard that you personally met Nam Tuyền. Is that so?’ Therefore Triệu Châu answered by saying that Trấn Châu produces large radishes.” Such an understanding is utterly irrelevant. You must never understand it this way. Ultimately, how should you understand it? He naturally has a road that penetrates heaven.

Have you not seen how a monk asked Cửu Phong, “I have heard that you personally met Diên Thọ. Is that so?” Cửu Phong replied, “Has the barley in front of the mountain ripened yet?” This accords with Triệu Châu’s reply to the monk; they are like two solid iron mallets without holes. Old Triệu Châu was a man with nothing to do. You gently brought your question to him, and he immediately plucked out your eyeballs. If one is a person who “knows what is,” one chews it thoroughly and discovers its flavor. If one is a person who “does not know what is,” it is like swallowing a date whole.

VERSE:

Trấn Châu xuất đại la bặc

Thiên hạ Nạp tăng thủ tắc

Chỉ tri tự cổ tự kim

Tranh biện hộc bạch ô hắc

Tặc! Tặc!

Nạp tăng tỹ khổng tằng niêm đắc.

TRANSLATION:

Trấn Châu produces large radishes;

Chan monks everywhere hold to this case.

They know only “from ancient times until now”;

How could they distinguish the white swan from the black crow?

Thief! Thief!

The Chan monks’ nostrils have already been seized.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: As for the line, “Trấn Châu produces large radishes,” if you cling to it as the ultimate principle, you have already gone astray. The ancients, holding hands as they advanced up the lofty mountain, still could not avoid the laughter of an onlooker. Everyone knows how to say that this is the ultimate principle, yet ultimately they do not know where that ultimate principle lies.

Therefore Tuyết Đậu says, “Chan monks everywhere hold to this case. They know only ‘from ancient times until now’; how could they distinguish the white swan from the black crow?” Although they know that people today answer this way and that people of old also answered this way, when have they ever distinguished black from white? Tuyết Đậu says that one must distinguish the black crow from the white swan within the flash of flint and the spark of lightning.

At this point, the verse on the public case is complete. Tuyết Đậu then gives expression to his intent at the place of living, dynamic activity, saying to you, “Thief! Thief! The Chan monks’ nostrils have already been seized.” The Buddhas of the three times are also thieves; the ancestral masters of successive generations are also thieves. Yet the one uniquely skilled at being a thief—plucking out people’s eyeballs without scraping his own hands or feet—is Triệu Châu alone. Tell me, where is the place in which Triệu Châu is skilled at being a thief? Trấn Châu produces large radishes.