舊雜譬喻經

35

The Buddha was teaching the sutras to his disciples. At that time, a hunter carrying a crossbow and more than ten dead birds came to see the Buddha. With sincere intent, he wished to hear the sutra taught and desired to receive its teaching. The Buddha, however, stopped and taught no further. The hunter departed, saying, “If I attain Buddhahood, I shall teach the Dharma to all people without going against anyone’s wishes.”

Ananda asked the Buddha, “This man had prepared his mind and wished to hear the teaching. Why did you go against his wishes?” The Buddha said, “That man is a great bodhisattva whose resolve is firm. Formerly, when he was a king, his heart was not impartial toward the women of his inner palace. Those who did not receive his favor joined together and killed him. The king was then born into a hunter’s family, while all those women fell into rebirth as wild beasts. Now, after this retribution has been exhausted, he will eventually attain accomplishment. Had I taught the sutra to him, I feared that his mind would become frightened and that he would fall onto the path of the arhat. Therefore, I did not teach the sutra to him.”

36

Long ago, in a Buddhist monastery, there was a golden cauldron used to prepare food for the monks. At that time, an ordinary man entered and saw it. Wishing to steal the golden cauldron but having no means to do so, he pretended to be a sramana.

He donned monastic robes and lived among the monks. He heard the senior monk expound the sutras, speaking of the essential attestations concerning merit and wrongdoing, birth and death, and the inescapable evidence of karmic retribution and its effects. The thief understood inwardly and felt ashamed and remorseful.

Purifying his mind and concentrating single-mindedly, he perceived the trace of the Path. Reflecting on the cause of his awakening, he thought, “The cauldron is my teacher.” He therefore went first to bow especially before the cauldron, circumambulated it three times, and then fully related the entire matter to the sramanas.

Whenever people awaken, each has a cause. If the mind is single-pointed, one cannot fail to perceive the truth.

37

Long ago, after Aniruddha had attained arhatship, his countenance among the bhiksus was as beautiful as that of a young woman. Once, while he was walking alone through the grass, a dissolute young man saw him and mistook him for a woman. Overcome by lust, the young man approached with the intention of violating him, but then realized that he was a man. When he looked back at himself, his own body had changed into that of a woman. Ashamed and anguished, he banished himself to the deep mountains and dared not return home.

Several years passed. His wife and children did not know where he lived and believed that he had died, so they wept without cease. One day, Aniruddha went on almsround and arrived at their house. The wife wept and told him how her husband had departed and never returned, hoping that the merit of her offering might enable him to remain alive. Aniruddha remained silent and did not reply, but compassion arose in his heart. He then went into the mountains and found the man. The man repented and reproached himself, whereupon his body changed back into that of a man. He then returned home and was reunited with his wife and children.

Those who have attained the Path must never be approached with malicious intent; otherwise, the calamity will rebound upon oneself.

38

Long ago, a bhiksu sat beneath a tree in a deserted place, cultivating the Path. A monkey in the tree saw the bhiksu eating and climbed down to stand beside him. The bhiksu gave it some leftover rice.

After eating, the monkey went to fetch water for washing. This continued for an entire month. One day, while eating, the bhiksu suddenly forgot to leave any rice.

Receiving nothing to eat, the monkey became very angry, seized the bhiksu’s kasaya, carried it up the tree, and tore it completely to pieces. Enraged at the animal, the bhiksu struck it with a staff and accidentally caused it to fall to the ground. The monkey immediately died.

Several other monkeys came together, howling and weeping, and carried the dead monkey into the Buddhist monastery. The bhiksus knew that there must be a reason for this. They assembled the bhiksus and inquired into the matter.

That bhiksu fully related the truth. From then on, they established this rule: “Henceforth, whenever bhiksus eat, they must set aside a portion of their food for the animals and may not consume everything.” The practice of donors offering rice began from that time.

39

Long ago, during a drought, a soft-shelled turtle found that the ponds and marshes had dried up, and it could not reach a place with food by itself. At that time, a stork came and alighted nearby. The turtle approached and pleaded for compassion, hoping to be rescued. The stork took the turtle in its beak and flew over the capital. The turtle did not remain silent but repeatedly asked, “Where is this?” It went on asking without cease. The stork finally answered. When it opened its beak to reply, the turtle fell to the ground. People caught it, butchered it, and ate it.

Foolish people who do not reflect and do not guard their speech are just like this.

Long ago, a sramana asked his elder brother to shave his head. When the shaving was finished, the elder brother bowed with his head touching the ground and said, “May I, in a future life, possess a pure mind and wisdom like that of a renunciant.” The renunciant said, “May your wisdom surpass mine.” The man bowed and departed. After his death, he was reborn in the Trayastrimsa Heaven. When his celestial lifespan ended, he descended and was reborn as the son of a wealthy family. He later became a sramana of great wisdom and perceived the trace of the Path. This arose from his sincerity.

40

Long ago, a brahmin came to make a request of a king. The king was about to go hunting and told the brahmin, “Wait in the palace until I return.” He then departed to hunt. While pursuing wild animals, he became separated from his ministers.

Upon reaching a mountain cave, he encountered a demon that wished to eat him. The king said, “Please listen to me. This morning, at the palace gate, I met a renunciant who came to make a request.

I told him to wait in the palace until I returned. Therefore, I ask to return briefly and give that renunciant what he requested. When I have done so, I shall come back and let you eat me.” The demon said, “I now intend to eat you.

Would you truly be willing to return?” The king said, “Excellent! Is there truly no one who believes that I am thinking of that renunciant?” The demon then released the king. The king returned to the palace, gave the requested objects to the renunciant, and entrusted the kingdom to the crown prince.

He then returned to meet the demon. Seeing the king return, the demon was moved by his perfect sincerity, bowed in gratitude, and dared not eat him.

The teacher said, “By means of the single word ‘sincerity,’ the king preserved his life and saved his kingdom. How much more immeasurable, then, is the merit of a worthy person who upholds the Five Precepts and gives alms wholeheartedly.”

41

Long ago, King Asoka always delighted in giving alms and offering meals to sramanas. He instructed the crown prince personally to ladle out and serve the various dishes. The crown prince secretly became angry and said, “When I become king, I shall kill all these renunciants.” Knowing that the crown prince was angry, a renunciant summoned him and said, “I shall not remain in this world much longer.” The crown prince was startled and thought, “This renunciant must possess penetrating insight to know my thoughts in this way.” He immediately reversed his thinking: “When I become king, I shall make even greater offerings to renunciants than my father does.” His mind then became serene, and he abandoned evil and followed goodness.

The renunciant said, “By the time Your Highness becomes king, I shall already have been reborn in heaven.” The crown prince said, “How holy is this sramana!” After ascending the throne, he governed the kingdom according to the Five Precepts and the Ten Good Deeds, and the country became peaceful.

42

Long ago, a wealthy man had two wives. Every day, the senior wife offered fine food to a sramana, and each day the sramana came to receive the meal. The junior wife bitterly hated this.

The next day, when the sramana came again, the junior wife took his bowl, placed filth in it, covered the filth with rice, and returned the bowl to him. The sramana carried it away. Just as he was about to eat in the mountains, he discovered the filth.

He washed the bowl and thereafter dared not return. From that time onward, both the junior wife’s mouth and body gave off a foul odor, and everyone who encountered her fled and avoided her. After death, she fell into a hell of boiling excrement.

She passed through the three evil destinies in this way for tens of millions of years. Only when her wrongdoing had been exhausted was she able to become human again, but she constantly craved excrement. If she could not obtain it, her abdomen would twist in pain.

Later, she became another man’s wife and would rise secretly at night to eat excrement. This happened many times. Her husband found it strange and went to investigate, whereupon he saw his wife eating excrement.

This was the consequence of her deed in a former life.

There are four deeds that are difficult for people to accomplish. The first is building a stupa. The second is providing dwellings for the Sangha. The third is offering meals to the community of bhiksus. The fourth is leaving the household life to become a sramana. Those who accomplish these four deeds gain immeasurable merit. Why is this so? The three realms are sometimes present and sometimes not. Having obtained human birth, possessing wealth, being able to uproot stinginess, giving at the proper time, and bringing such undertakings to completion—these, too, are difficult to attain. Only the Buddha can know the full extent of such merit.

The Buddha taught: “Bhikshus should not regard one another as close companions in the Way merely because they share food. Only by admonishing and instructing one another in the sutras and Dharma are they truly close. If bhikshus offer one another delicious food and drink, then in this life they may gain a good reputation, but in the next life they will receive nothing in return, while the Buddha will be subjected to reproach.

Why is this? When followers of other paths see the bhikshus, they will say: ‘The Buddha’s disciples merely give one another fine food and beautiful robes. Who taught them to do so?

It was the Buddha himself.’ Thus the Buddha is subjected to reproach. When bhikshus invite and instruct one another in the sutras, precepts, and Dharma of the Way, only then are they truly close and devoted. Why is this?

When followers of other paths see the bhikshus, they will say: ‘The Buddha’s disciples give one another only the sutras, precepts, and Dharma of the Way, and nothing else.’ Thus bhikshus gain a good reputation in this life and attain liberation in the next, while the Buddha is praised. Why is this said? The Buddha is the teacher of the bhikshus and teaches his disciples to rely solely upon the sutras, precepts, and Dharma of the Way.

Therefore, giving someone food is not necessarily a kindness; true kindness is to offer one another wholesome counsel.”

The Buddha taught: “Bhikshus should know contentment. What does it mean to know contentment? It means seeking only a single piece of clothing and a single meal, constantly dwelling in a place for walking meditation and contemplating what has not yet been contemplated, while outwardly finding means to remain still and not allowing the mind to become disturbed. This is knowing contentment. Yet there are also things with which one should not deem oneself content: the sutras and precepts, attainment of concentration in the four dhyanas and the four formless states, and the stages of stream-enterer and once-returner. With such things, one should not deem oneself content.”

43

A bhikshu went out to beg for food. While standing on the road, he suddenly felt a great need to urinate and did so. Travelers who saw him all mocked him, saying: “The Buddha’s disciples observe rules in walking and standing and possess dignity in their dress and deportment.

Yet this bhikshu urinates while standing—he is truly worthy of ridicule.” At that time, a follower of the Nirgrantha sect saw the people mocking that bhikshu and thought to himself: “We Nirgranthas walk about naked, yet no one questions us. When a disciple of the Buddha urinates while standing, everyone mocks him. Thus, because people regard us as having no rules of conduct, they do not laugh at us.

It is only because the Buddha’s disciples observe pure rules and proper decorum that people readily criticize them.” He then went of his own accord to the Buddha and asked to become a shramana, whereupon he immediately attained the fruit of stream-entry.

A bhikshu is a teacher of all people, just as the lion is king of all beasts. Therefore, his speech must accord with the rules, and in walking, standing, lying down, and sitting he must possess dignified deportment, so as to serve as a model for everyone. He must not belittle himself. To belittle and demean oneself is to disgrace the sages of old.

The heavenly king Shakra and the foremost of the Four Heavenly Kings survey the world three times on each full-moon day to see who observes the precepts, and whenever they see someone observing the precepts, they rejoice. Once, on a full-moon day, the heavenly king Shakra sat in the main hall and thought to himself: “If anyone in the world observes the fast three times on the full-moon day, then after death that person may obtain my position.” The devas seated beside him became exceedingly alarmed and said: “Can one obtain Shakra’s position merely by observing the fast three times on the full-moon day?” A bhikshu who had attained arhatship knew Shakra’s thought and asked the Buddha: “Could it truly be as Shakra has said?” The Buddha taught: “Shakra’s words cannot be trusted,

for he did not speak truthfully.

Why is this? A person who diligently observes the fast three times on the full-moon day can transcend the world; how could the result be limited merely to Shakra’s position? Thus his statement was untrue and cannot be trusted.

Who can know the merit of observing the fast? Only the Buddha.”

44

In the ocean there was a great dragon. The dragon wished to send rain upon the land of Jambudvipa, but feared that the land could not withstand the rainwater. The dragon thought: “If the land cannot withstand the rain I send, then I shall return to my own ocean and let it rain there.” The Buddha bestowed exceedingly great majestic virtue upon his disciples and wished to bestow it upon the ninety-six schools of other paths, but feared that they would be unable to bear it. Therefore, the Buddha’s disciples gradually bestowed it upon one another, just as the dragon returned to send rain upon its own ocean.

45

Long ago, there was a brahmin ascetic who was already 120 years old. In his youth he had not taken a wife and harbored no lustful thoughts. He lived in a remote and uninhabited mountain region, using thatch to make his dwelling and rushes to make his mat.

He sustained himself with spring water and forest fruit and accumulated no possessions. When the king invited him, he did not go. His mind remained tranquil in a place of non-action.

He had dwelt in the mountains for more than several decades (at this point, the original edition has the character “thiên,” meaning “thousand”; however, when compared with this story in the Sutra of the Collection of the Six Perfections, that text has the character “thập,” meaning “ten.” We therefore consider “thiên” to be a printing error for “thập” and translate it as “decades”). By day, he played with the birds and beasts.

There were four animals: the first was a fox, the second a monkey, the third an otter, and the fourth a hare. Every day, these four animals stayed at the ascetic’s dwelling, listening to teachings on the sutras and precepts. After a long time had passed in this way, all the forest fruit had been eaten.

The ascetic then formed the intention to move elsewhere. The four animals were deeply saddened and unhappy, so they discussed the matter together: “Let each of us go and find food to offer to the ascetic.” The monkey went to another mountain, gathered sweet fruit, and offered it to the ascetic, asking him to remain and not depart. The fox also went forth, transformed into a human, begged for food, and obtained a bag of dried rice.

He brought it back and offered it to the ascetic, saying it could serve as provisions for one month, and asked him to stay. The otter likewise went down to the river, caught a large fish, and brought it as an offering to the ascetic, enough to sustain him for one month, and asked him not to leave. The hare thought to himself: “What shall I offer to the ascetic?” Then he thought: “I shall offer my own body.” He went and gathered firewood, lit a fire to make glowing coals, and then approached the ascetic and said: “I am now only a very small hare.

Please allow me to roast myself in the fire and offer my body to you. It can serve as your food for one day.” The hare immediately leapt into the fire, but the fire did not burn him. Seeing the hare and being moved by his benevolence and righteousness, the ascetic felt compassion and remained there.

The Buddha said: “The brahmin ascetic of that time was the Buddha Dipankara. The hare was I myself, the monkey was Shariputra, the fox was Ananda, and the otter was Maudgalyayana.”

46

Long ago, five ascetics were traveling together when they encountered snow and rain. They went to spend the night in a temple dedicated to a deity. Inside was a wooden image of the deity worshiped by the officials and people of that country.

Four of the men said: “It is exceedingly cold tonight. We can burn that wooden image to warm ourselves.” The remaining man said: “That is an image worshiped by the people; we must not destroy it.” So they left it intact and did not split it for firewood. Demons in that temple habitually ate human flesh.

They gathered and said to one another: “We ought to eat that man, for he fears us. The other four are fierce and cannot be violated.” The man who had stopped the others and dared not split the image heard the demons speaking during the night. He arose and called to his companions: “Why do you not split up that image and use it to warm yourselves?” They took it and burned it, and the man-eating demons fled.

Those who study the Way should always keep their resolve firm and must not be timid or weak, thereby allowing demons and spirits to do as they please with human beings.

47

Long ago, a king relinquished his kingdom and became a shramana. He cultivated purity in the mountains, using thatch to make his dwelling and rushes to make his mat. Believing that he had fulfilled his aspiration, he laughed aloud and said: “What bliss!” An ascetic dwelling nearby asked: “You speak of bliss, but now that you sit alone in the mountains studying the Way, what bliss is there?” The shramana replied: “When I was king, I worried about many things.

At times, I feared that a neighboring king would seize my country; I feared that someone would rob me of my wealth; or I feared that others would covet profit from me. I was constantly afraid that my ministers would take advantage of my treasures and rebel at any moment. Now that I am a shramana, no one covets profit from me.

My bliss is beyond description. That is why I call it bliss.”

48

Once there was a king who greatly cherished virtue and regularly circumambulated a stupa one hundred times. Before he had finished, the king of a neighboring country came to attack, intending to seize his kingdom. His attendants were greatly frightened and immediately went to report to the king, saying: “An army has come to attack. We beg Your Majesty to cease circumambulating the stupa, return, and devise an expedient strategy to repel the fierce enemy.” The king said: “Let their army come; I am determined not to stop.” His resolve remained unchanged. Before he had finished circumambulating the stupa, the enemy forces scattered and withdrew. In general, when a person fixes the mind in single-minded concentration, there is nothing that cannot be overcome.

49

Once there was a king who regularly went to pay homage to the Buddha, regardless of mud or rain. His attendants resented this and said among themselves: “What is the king thinking, causing so much trouble?” The king heard them. Upon returning to the palace, he ordered his ministers to find one hundred animal heads and one human head and bring them to him. The ministers reported to the king: “They have all been obtained.” The king ordered them to be sold in the marketplace. All the animal heads were bought, but no one would buy the human head. The ministers reported to the king: “The one hundred animal heads were all bought, but this human head is foul and putrid, and no one will buy it.”

The king then said to his attendants: “You do not understand. Previously, when I went to the Buddha’s dwelling to pay homage to him, you said: ‘The king’s intentions are troublesome.’ Now you should understand that my head is as filthy as that dead person’s head. Therefore, I seek merit so that I may be reborn in heaven. In your ignorance, you failed to understand and instead called it troublesome.” The attendants replied: “It is indeed just as Your Majesty says.” Bowing their heads, they apologized: “We, your servants, were foolish and did not reflect upon this.” Afterward, when the king again went out, all his ministers dismounted and paid homage to the Buddha, taking the king as their example.

50

Once there was a king who went on an excursion. Whenever he saw a śramana, he would descend from his carriage and pay homage to him. One renunciant said: “Your Majesty, stop; do not descend from your carriage again.” The king replied: “I am ascending, not descending. I say that I am ascending rather than descending because, by paying homage to a renunciant now, after death I shall be reborn in heaven. Therefore, I say that I am ascending, not descending.”

51

Once, after a man had died, his spirit returned and tenderly caressed its former skeleton. Someone nearby asked: “You are already dead, so why do you still caress those dry bones?” The spirit replied: “That was my former body. With that body I did not kill, steal, engage in sexual misconduct, speak divisively, speak harshly, lie, or speak frivolously. Nor was I envious, angry, or deluded. After death, I was reborn in heaven, where whatever I desire appears naturally and bliss is boundless. Therefore, I cherish it.”

52

Once, in a foreign land, a śramana was practicing the Way in the mountains. A ghost transformed itself into a headless man and came before the śramana. The śramana exclaimed: “Without a head, there is no suffering from headaches. The eyes depend upon the head to see forms, the ears to hear sounds, the nose to discern fragrances, and the mouth to perceive flavors. Now that you have no head at all, what joy!”

The ghost disappeared and then transformed itself into a person without a torso, having only hands and feet. The śramana said: “Without a torso, there is no awareness of pain or itching, no five internal organs, and no experience of illness. What joy!”

The ghost disappeared again. It then transformed itself into a person without hands or feet and rolled toward the śramana like a wheel. The renunciant said: “What great joy! Without hands or feet, one cannot take another person’s possessions. How joyful!”

The ghost said: “The śramana’s mind remains unmoved.” It then transformed itself into a handsome young man, bowed its head, and prostrated before the renunciant, saying: “Because the renunciant’s mind is steadfast, you are able to remain thus. Now that you are cultivating the Way, before long you will attain success.” It then respectfully bowed its head, prostrated, and departed.

53

Once a śramana was practicing the Way in the mountains. When he removed his inner robe, it fell to the ground. He looked to the right and left, then slowly picked it up and put it on again. The mountain spirit appeared and said to the renunciant: “There are no people here. When your robe fell to the ground, why did you hasten to put it on again?” The śramana replied: “The mountain spirit sees me, and I also see myself. Above, the sun, the moon, and the devas see me. According to the proper principle, I must not remain naked. One who feels no shame is not a disciple of the Buddha.”

54

Once six companions all fell into hell and were together in a single cauldron. Each wished to recount his offense. The first said “sa.” The second said “na.” The third said “te.” The fourth said “she.” The fifth said “gu.” The sixth said “da-la.” Seeing this, the Buddha smiled. Maudgalyayana asked the Buddha: “Why is this?”

The Buddha said: “Six companions all fell into hell and were together in a single cauldron. Each wished to recount his offense, but the water boiled furiously, and they could not continue speaking. Each uttered only one syllable before being submerged again.

“The one who said ‘sa’ meant: ‘Sixty billion myriad years in the human world equal a single day in hell; when will this ever end?’

“The second, who said ‘na,’ meant: ‘There is no limit, and I do not know when I shall ever escape.’

“The third, who said ‘te,’ meant: ‘What misery, what misery! Why did I conduct trade in that way, unable to restrain my mind, and steal the one-fifth share from the household that made offerings to the Three Jewels? Foolishly greedy and never content, what use is regret now?’

“The fourth, who said ‘she,’ meant: ‘In conducting trade, I was not sincere. My wealth belonged to others, and thus I have come to suffer this pain.’

“The fifth, who said ‘gu,’ meant: ‘Who will guarantee my release from hell, so that I may never again violate the precepts and may be reborn among devas or humans to enjoy happiness?’

“The sixth, who said ‘da-la,’ meant: ‘From the beginning, this matter was not properly considered in my mind. I was like a charioteer who lost the way, entered a wrong path, and broke the axle of his cart. It is now too late for regret.’”

SEVEN PARABLES REFUTING THE ARHATS

55

Once the Buddha sent Shariputra westward to the Adorned Land of Buddha Vipashyin to ask that Buddha three questions: “Is the Buddha’s body at ease? Does he teach the Dharma as usual? Has the number of listeners increased?”

Through the Buddha’s awe-inspiring spiritual power, Shariputra immediately traveled to that land and conveyed these words. That Buddha replied: “All is well.” At that time, that Buddha turned the irreversible Dharma wheel to teach the Dharma to bodhisattvas of the seventh stage. Shariputra listened and then returned from that land. His face shone with joy, and his manner of walking and standing was unlike usual.

The Buddha asked Shariputra: “After returning from that realm, why are you walking and standing so joyfully?” Shariputra said to the Buddha: “Suppose a person from a poor, hungry, and freezing household obtained precious treasures as vast as Mount Sumeru. Would he not rejoice?” The Buddha said: “Excellent!” Shariputra said: “When I reached that realm, I heard that Buddha expound the profound teaching of irreversibility. Therefore, I was so delighted that I could not contain myself.” The Buddha said: “Good indeed, just as you have said!”

The Buddha then told Shariputra: “Suppose a great householder possessed only refined purple gold and mani jewels as his treasures. He had the copper, iron, lead, and tin inside swept out and thrown into the refuse basket outside. An utterly destitute man happily carried them home, saying: ‘I have obtained the great householder’s treasures.’ Would those things truly be the householder’s rare and wondrous treasures?”

Shariputra replied: “They would not.”

The Buddha told Shariputra: “What you heard is also like the things obtained by that poor man. That Buddha merely taught the principle of the ten stages and purity in conduct. Therefore, what you heard is not worth mentioning.”

Shariputra immediately became dejected and said: “I thought I had obtained treasure, but it was instead only lead and tin.” When Shariputra said this, countless people gave rise to the aspiration for unsurpassed awakening, and countless people attained the A-duy-nhan stage.

56

Long ago, Mahamaudgalyayana sat beneath a tree and tested his divine eye, seeing eight thousand Buddha-realms. He thought to himself: “What the Tathagata sees cannot equal what I see.” He then assumed the gait of a lion and went to the Buddha. The Buddha said to Maudgalyayana: “You belong to the lineage of the shravakas.

Why do you now assume the gait of a lion?” Maudgalyayana said to the Buddha: “I myself saw eight thousand Buddha-realms throughout the eight directions and thought that what the Buddha sees surely could not equal what I see; therefore, I assumed the gait of a lion.” The Buddha said: “Excellent, Maudgalyayana! Because the range of your vision is so vast, you have acted in this way.” The Buddha then told Maudgalyayana: “What you see is like the light of a lamp compared with a square mani jewel; the difference between them is immense.” The Buddha continued: “What my eye sees extends throughout the ten directions.

In each direction are Buddha-realms as numerous as the sands of ten Ganges Rivers. Each grain of sand represents one Buddha-realm, and I see everything within them all: the descent from Tusita Heaven into the mother’s womb, birth, renunciation of the household life to study the Way, the subjugation of Mara, the arrival of Lord Shakra and King Brahma to offer encouragement and assistance, the turning of the Dharma wheel and the teaching of the Dharma to all beings, the approach of nirvana, and, after nirvana, the cremation and the relics.

Such events are beyond all reckoning. With that eye, I see them all.”

The Buddha emitted a ray of light from between his eyebrows that shone throughout the upper direction, emitted light from his body that illuminated the eight directions, and emitted light from his feet that penetrated the lower direction, reaching one hundred thousand realms in each direction. At that time, all the realms throughout the ten directions shook in six ways. The great light was obstructed by nothing.

Then, before the Buddha, Maudgalyayana saw innumerable, boundless realms as numerous as the sands of the Ganges, within which appeared all the things the Buddha had described above. He then said to the Buddha: “The Buddha previously spoke of realms as numerous as the sands of ten Ganges Rivers. Is what the Buddha now reveals precisely that?” The Buddha told Maudgalyayana: “Fearing that you would not believe me, I spoke of only a few.

What I now reveal, when compared with the whole, is still beyond all reckoning.”

Having heard this, Mahamaudgalyayana fainted and fell to the ground like a great mountain collapsing. He cried aloud and wept: “I knew that the Buddha possessed such merit and virtue, but only now have I seen it thus. May this not cause my body to fall into the great hell!” Those who saw the Buddha’s right side would not attain the fruit of arhatship for a hundred kalpas.

Maudgalyayana then said: “To all those in this assembly, the Blessed One has declared that I am foremost in spiritual powers. That is no longer worth mentioning. Even the merit and virtue I have attained cannot compare with the Buddha’s knowledge of these things; how much less so for those who have attained nothing at all!

Why resolve to become like me? One should aspire to become like the Buddha and not imitate me, thereby ending up like something counterfeit.” All those attending the assembly—dragons, spirits, and people, numbering countless thousands—aroused the aspiration for unsurpassed, perfect enlightenment. Those who aroused the aspiration for the Great Way immediately attained non-retrogression.

Those who had already attained non-retrogression all attained the A-duy-nhan stage.

57

Long ago, there was a dragon king named Bạt Để, whose awesome spiritual power extended far and wide and inspired the submission of many. Yet he was hot-tempered and committed many tyrannical deeds. He repeatedly assembled the dragons to engage together in unlawful acts, sending wind, rain, thunder, and lightning that killed countless people, birds, beasts, and insects.

A group of venerable arhats discussed the matter among themselves: “If one kills a single person, one falls into hell for one kalpa and dies there a hundred times before the offense is exhausted. This dragon has now slaughtered sentient beings beyond reckoning from beginning to end, yet he does not cease. We fear that he will become difficult to deliver, so we ought to go together and remonstrate with him.” At that time, the Buddha knew of this and praised them, saying: “Excellent!

You have renounced the household life to seek the unconditioned Way and wish to rescue all sentient beings from danger and distress and deliver those burdened with offenses. This is very good. You should indeed act so, for this is how gratitude is repaid.”

The arhats then said to one another: “There is no need for all ten thousand of us to go together.” Therefore, they went one by one, but each was hindered and could not advance. They returned and said to one another: “If we go separately, we cannot subdue and correct this dragon or cause him to reform and practice goodness. We should gather the merit and virtue of all ten thousand and go together at the same time.” They went again. The dragon unleashed storm winds, rain, thunder, and lightning. The ten thousand became terrified and did not know where to go. Once again humiliated, they bowed their heads and returned.

Ananda said to the Buddha: “This dragon has slaughtered people and animals in this way. His offenses are so numerous that they are already beyond all reckoning. Now he has also raised storms that terrified ten thousand arhats and soaked their robes until they looked like drowned men. His offenses have thereby become even more grave and are beyond all reckoning!” At that time, the Buddha was on Vulture Peak together with ten thousand bodhisattvas and ten thousand arhats. They went to that mountain and arrived at the dragon’s dwelling place.

The dragon became enraged and produced torrential rain, roaring thunder, and flashing lightning. He then caused hailstones to fall, each measuring forty li square. Had they struck the earth, they would have sunk four feet into the ground.

He intended to harm the Buddha and the assembly of bodhisattvas. But as soon as the hailstones descended, they stopped in midair and transformed into celestial flowers. The Buddha emitted a ray of light that illuminated everything present.

Hunters and travelers in the mountain, overtaken by dark clouds and rain, lost their way and could no longer distinguish east from west. More than ten thousand people gathered together, followed the ray of light, and came to where the Buddha was. The dragon again thundered and sent down a great rock measuring forty zhang square.

Had the rock fallen to the earth, it would have sunk forty zhang into the ground. But when it reached the space above the Buddha’s head, it joined with the flowers that had appeared before and transformed into a floral canopy. The smaller dragons hurled rocks, each measuring one zhang, and all were likewise transformed.

When the arhats who had gone before saw the disasters created by the dragon, they each became frightened and went forward to remain close beside the Buddha.

From within the clouds, the dragon saw his hailstones and rocks transform into a floral canopy, suspended in the sky without falling. He thought to himself: “I shall take my own body, coil it tightly until it measures forty zhang, and cover the Buddha and the Sangha with it.” He immediately hurled himself downward, but struck nothing at all. His whole body was in pain, and he fell to the ground, where he lay for a long while.

Raising his head, opening his eyes, and looking upward, he saw the Buddha and thought: “Nothing I have done has gone according to my wishes. I suspect that this is a supremely honored and wondrous divine being.” Thereupon, the smaller dragons also came and hurled themselves downward, but they could not move anything in the slightest. At that time, the dragon king’s lifespan came to an end, and he was reborn as a deva.

The smaller dragons also died after him and became sons of devas. They all descended and stood beside the Buddha.

The Buddha asked Ananda: “Do you know where these devas have come from?” He replied: “I do not know.” The Buddha taught: “A short while ago, these dragons gave rise to malicious intentions, and you said that their grave offenses were beyond all reckoning. Yet when they hurled themselves to the ground, they gave rise to a single wholesome thought and recognized that the Buddha was worthy of reverence. Thus, when they died, they became devas.

These are those very beings.” Upon hearing the Buddha speak, the deva and the sons of devas all aroused the aspiration for unsurpassed, perfect enlightenment. At that time, the hunters and the people from the mountain who had come to the Buddha all thought to themselves: “Even the offenses of that dragon could be brought to liberation. The harm we have caused is not nearly as great as his.” They intended to arouse the aspiration for the Way, but still hesitated.

The Buddha told Ananda: “Those ten thousand arhats wished to deliver the dragon from his offenses, but their strength was insufficient to bear the task. Had I not been present, they would have been overpowered by the dragon. Not only would they have been unable to deliver him from his evil, but they would instead have caused his offenses to increase.

Those who wish to deliver all beings should first enter meditative concentration and consider whether they are capable of delivering them; only afterward should they act. Those whom you cannot deliver, the Tathagata can deliver, delivering them without there being any deliverance.” At that time, when the hunters heard these words, they all aroused the aspiration for unsurpassed, perfect enlightenment. All the devas, dragons, and people present in that assembly who heard the Buddha expound the sutra attained non-retrogression.

Long ago, the dragon king Bạt Để and Śākyamuni Buddha were both brahmins. At that time, Bạt Để had as many as ten thousand disciples. Seeing that Śākyamuni was a man of great ability, they resolutely left their own teacher and went to serve Śākyamuni.

Bạt Để became angry at heart, and through this offense was reborn as a dragon. After the Buddha attained enlightenment, he delivered nearly all of them. All ten thousand disciples attained arhatship.

The dragon’s malicious heart grew ever greater, and he wished to harm them. Those ten thousand, moved by compassion, wished to go and deliver him. Because the dragon had once been their teacher, although they had fully attained the four stages of the path, they were still humiliated by him.

Yet when a bodhisattva came, though the dragon wished to inflict harm, in the end he did not dare.

58

Long ago, there was a country whose population was flourishing. Men and women, old and young, widely committed evil deeds. Their dispositions and conduct were perverse, and they were violent and difficult to teach. The Buddha brought his disciples to a neighboring country. The five hundred arhats were inwardly proud and conceited. Mahāmaudgalyāyana first approached the Buddha and said, “I wish to go and deliver those people.” The Buddha immediately consented. Maudgalyāyana then went and taught the scriptures and the path, explaining that they should perform good deeds and that, if they committed evil deeds, the resulting offenses would be immeasurable. The people throughout the country all beat and reviled him and would not follow his teaching. He therefore returned.

Śāriputra said to Maudgalyāyana, “If you wished to teach those people, you should have employed wisdom; otherwise, how could you avoid being reviled?” Śāriputra then addressed the Buddha: “I wish to go there and exhort and deliver the people.” The Buddha again consented. He went and taught the scriptures and precepts, but once more they refused to listen and instead subjected him to abuse.

Mahākāśyapa and the other venerable disciples, together numbering five hundred, went there one after another. They too were unable to deliver them and were instead treated with contempt and reviled.

Ānanda said to the Buddha, “The people of that country are vicious and refuse wholesome instruction. Most of these venerable ones have been rebuffed and humiliated by them. The offense of humiliating even one arhat is beyond description; how much more so the offense of opposing the teachings of so many! The weight of that offense could not be contained even by empty space.” The Buddha taught, “Although that offense is profound and grave, a bodhisattva contemplates it as empty and quiescent, and sees no offense.”

The Buddha sent Mañjuśrī to deliver and liberate them. Mañjuśrī immediately went to that country. He praised each person, saying, “How swiftly you, worthy one, accomplish your deeds!” He then went to the king and praised him to his face.

He caused all the people, old and young, to hear and know this, saying of each, “You are valiant and strong; you are also benevolent and filial; you possess courage and wisdom.” Wherever he went, he praised people according to what pleased them. They were all delighted beyond measure and said, “What this great man says is truly marvelous! He understands our aspirations and integrity.

How gratifying this is!” Each of them brought gold, jewels, incense, and flowers and scattered them over the bodhisattva. They offered him beautiful pairs of embroidered brocade robes and delicious, sweet foods and drinks, and they aroused the aspiration for unsurpassed, complete enlightenment. Mañjuśrī said to the people, “Your offerings to me cannot compare with offerings to my teacher.

My teacher is called the Buddha. If you go and make offerings to him together, your merit will be immeasurably greater.” They were all overjoyed and followed Mañjuśrī to the Buddha. When the Buddha taught them the scriptures, they all attained non-retrogression.

The trichiliocosm then shook greatly. The mountains, forests, and trees all voiced praise, saying, “Excellent! Mañjuśrī is so skillful in delivering people.”

The Buddha told Ānanda, “Their profound and grave offenses still remain.” The five hundred arhats fainted and fell to the ground. Shedding tears, they said, “Such is the awesome spiritual power with which a bodhisattva teaches and guides beings; how then could the power of the Tathāgata ever be fully described? We are like spoiled seeds, of no benefit to anyone.”

59

Long ago, while the Buddha was seated beneath a tree, he taught the Dharma to countless people. Among them, some attained the fruit of stream-entry, some attained the fruit of once-returning, some attained the fruit of non-returning, and some attained arhatship. People such as these were beyond counting.

At that time, the Buddha’s countenance was not radiant, and he appeared sorrowful. Ānanda, deeply understanding the Buddha’s intent, knelt and addressed him: “I have attended upon the Buddha for eight years, yet I have never seen the honored countenance of the Buddha lacking radiance as it does today. What change has caused the Buddha to appear this way? Has someone today lost the Great Practice?

Has someone committed evil and fallen into hell? Has someone strayed far from their own original shore?”

The Buddha told Ānanda, “Suppose merchants carrying many precious treasures worth thousands and tens of thousands traveled far away in search of profit. Along the road, they encountered bandits and lost all their treasures. Their bodies were left naked, and they had nothing with which to sustain themselves.

Would they be sorrowful and distressed?” Ānanda replied to the Buddha, “They would be exceedingly sorrowful.” The Buddha told Ānanda, “For countless kalpas, I have endured hardship in practicing the path because I wished to save and deliver all people and cause them all to become Buddhas. I have now personally attained Buddhahood, yet not one person has cultivated the merit leading to Buddhahood. Therefore, I am unhappy, and my countenance has changed.” Ānanda said to the Buddha, “The Buddha’s disciples who attained arhatship in the past, attain it in the present, or will attain it in the future are beyond counting.

The same is true of those who attain non-returning, once-returning, and stream-entry; they too cannot be counted. Why, then, do you say that no one has gained deliverance through merit?” The Buddha told Ānanda, “Suppose an elderly couple gave birth to ten daughters. Would any of them remain to take charge of the household?” Ānanda answered, “None would.” The Buddha taught, “Although countless thousands of arhats have been born through awakening to my Dharma, they are still not my children, nor will they be able to sit beneath the Buddha’s tree.

It is like having many daughters: when they marry, they go to the homes of others, leaving their parents alone. So it is with me.”

At that time, the Buddha wept, and three tears fell. The trichiliocosm then shook greatly. Countless devas, dragons, spirits, and human beings aroused the aspiration for unsurpassed enlightenment.

At that moment, the Buddha’s countenance became beautiful and joyful, and immeasurable light, a thousand billion and ten thousand times more brilliant than usual, shone throughout the ten directions. All who saw the light attained deliverance. Ānanda said to the Buddha, “Why have you now emitted such wondrously beautiful light and manifested such marvelous spiritual transformations?” The Buddha told Ānanda, “Suppose an elderly couple prayed to heaven and entreated the earth, begging for a child, and at last a son was born to them who could establish and perpetuate their household.

Would they not rejoice and congratulate themselves? Now all beings have aroused the Mahāyāna aspiration. Therefore, I rejoice, for the lineage of the Buddhas will not be extinguished.”

The Buddha sent the bodhisattva Sumati to a capital city lying beyond sixty thousand kotis of lands as numerous as the sands of the Ganges, instructing him to go to that country and obtain lion thrones and various foods and beverages. In the time it takes to extend an arm, he had already returned. He then magnificently adorned the great lion thrones and invited all those attending the assembly who had aroused the aspiration for unsurpassed awakening to ascend freely and sit upon lion thrones of a thousand golden lotus petals.

Some sat within openwork canopies of the seven treasures or beneath trees of the seven treasures; poles bearing banners of the seven treasures were erected, with celestial brocade as banners and celestial silk as flower canopies. The Buddha then transformed the lands of the great trichiliocosm into bathing pools, within which lotuses of the seven treasures grew. The Buddha transformed his own body, appearing as a bodhisattva, or again in the forms of Sakra, Brahma King, and the Four Heavenly Kings, making vast offerings to the great assembly of every kind of delicious food and drink, whose fragrance was perceived throughout all the ten directions.

All who perceived that fragrance aroused the aspiration for unsurpassed awakening. Each land sent venerable attendant bodhisattvas to congratulate Buddha Sakyamuni, for most of all the people had aroused the bodhisattva resolve. Among them, some came bearing lotuses of pure gold, some bearing precious mani lotuses, and some bearing moon-bright pearl lotuses.

Each brought lotuses of many precious colors, and together they scattered them over the Buddha. Through the Buddha’s majestic spiritual power, the scattered flowers joined to form a flower canopy covering all the ten directions and illuminating every land, so that dark places became bright. The beings in the hells, hungry ghosts, birds and beasts, and domestic animals all aroused the great resolve and wished to seek Buddhahood.

The Buddha expounded the sutra for everyone attending the assembly. Innumerable bodhisattvas attained the stage of A-duy-nhan. Innumerable devas and humans attained the acceptance of the non-arising of dharmas. Innumerable nagas, spirits, and people also attained non-retrogression. All bodhisattvas and great beings aroused the aspiration for unsurpassed awakening.

60

Long ago there was a man who had been poor and destitute since childhood. He traveled to another country, where he obtained a sweet fruit that was fragrant, delicious, and large, a rarity in the world. Cherishing it, he did not dare eat it. Thinking of his parents and wishing to present the fruit to them, he carried it back toward the city of Vaisali.

At that time, the Buddha entered the city with the bodhisattvas and his great disciples. Together they went to the home of an elder at the invitation of that donor. The Buddha had just passed by before the man reached home.

Carrying the fruit in his hand, the man came to the place where the Buddha had walked. From childhood to adulthood he had never heard of the Buddha. When he saw the Buddha’s footprint, shaped like a canopy and shining brilliantly without the slightest imperfection, he stood beside it and gazed upon it tirelessly.

His heart filled with joy; all sorrow ceased, and he knew happiness. He thought, “Even the footprint left upon the ground is like this; how much more extraordinary must the body of this person be! Truly, such a person cannot be found in this world.

Surely he must return this way. I shall cut off a portion to reserve for my parents, then wait until he comes and present the fruit to him.”

The Buddha had not yet returned. Sitting beside the footprint, the man grew sorrowful and shed tears. A traveler approached and asked him, “Why do you sit here sorrowfully, embracing that fruit?”

He replied, “I am guarding this supremely venerable footprint and waiting for the divine man, hoping that he will return. I wish to present this fruit to him with my own hands. Because I have been slow to behold his radiant countenance and have not yet fulfilled my wish, I think myself deficient in merit, and therefore I grieve.”

Travelers who heard this gathered like clouds to watch. Finding the man strange, they considered him mad and foolish, and said, “How do you know where the traveler will return that you intend to sit here waiting for him?”

The Buddha arrived and sat in the home of the elder who was the donor. After the Sangha had washed, they took their seats in order. The elder and all his attendants, high and low, set out bowls and plates filled with every kind of food; nothing was lacking. From afar, the Buddha performed “dat-than” for the man who, holding the fruit and guarding the Buddha’s footprint along the road, earnestly wished to offer it to the Buddha. Therefore, when the meal was finished, the donor thought, “The Blessed One has performed ‘dat-than,’ yet earlier I did not see it in time. He has now bestowed a vow of blessing from afar upon the man outside who is bringing fruit as an offering. What could that man possibly lack?”

The Buddha told Ananda, “The elder’s offering was complete, but its merit has departed elsewhere. Although his deed was grand, his intention still harbored expectations. His heart bears the four fears, and his aim is cessation. Outside there is a young man holding a sweet fruit in his hand. With a single-minded heart free of any other thought, he guards my footprint and compassionately waits for me. Wishing to present the fruit for the benefit of all beings, he has aroused the resolve for the great path. Therefore, while seated here, I received his ‘dat-than’ from afar.”

The elder thought to himself and said, “That man offers only a piece of fruit and has nothing else, yet the Buddha praises his merit as exceedingly lofty and sublime. Though I am wealthy and my offerings abundant, because I calculated their relative value, my merit does not equal his. I pray that I may accompany the Buddha to meet that man.”

The Buddha immediately rose and went to the place where the man was guarding the footprint. The bodhisattvas, disciples, elder, and the others all followed him. From afar, the man carrying the fruit saw the Buddha approaching, his bodily marks beautiful and his brilliance surpassing the sun and moon. He immediately went forth to welcome the Buddha, bowed his head in homage, then knelt and presented that fruit to the Buddha, arousing the aspiration for unsurpassed awakening.

The Buddha emitted rays of light that shone infinitely far. The three-thousandfold world system quaked because of them. The Buddhas and bodhisattvas of the ten directions then appeared like reflections in a mirror, and everyone, near and far, could see them. The Buddha accepted the fruit and in turn offered it to all the Buddhas, causing that single fruit to become inexhaustibly present everywhere.

Each of the Buddhas and bodhisattvas throughout the ten directions extended from within their kasayas a radiant golden arm that emitted a hundred thousand kotis of rays. At the tip of every ray, there naturally appeared a lion throne with an openwork curtain adorned with pearls and precious lotuses. Upon each throne sat a Buddha and bodhisattvas, all holding precious bowls and receiving that fruit.

Through spiritual transformation, each held one fruit and performed “dat-than.” Buddha Sakyamuni did likewise, illuminating the ten directions from this world. The devas and spirits of space completely filled the eight directions, above and below, leaving no place unoccupied. All rejoiced, acclaimed the goodness of the act, and offered praises.

All bodhisattvas in the three realms received its benefit.

At that time, the man who offered the fruit attained the acceptance of the non-arising of dharmas. The Buddha conferred upon him the prediction that in the future he would become a Buddha named Supreme Perfectly Awakened King Honored for the Fruit, whose land would be like that of Amitabha Buddha. As the man listened to the Blessed One describe that land, he naturally became purified and attained A-duy-nhan. The elder and lay devotees entered the path, and innumerable thousands of people were delivered to the stage of non-retrogression. Such was the Buddha’s virtue.

61

Long ago, the Buddha ascended to the second heaven, the Trayastrimsa Heaven, to expound the sutra for his mother. At that time, a deva’s life was about to end, and seven signs appeared as omens: “First, the radiance around his neck was extinguished. Second, the flowers adorning his head withered.

Third, his complexion changed. Fourth, dust appeared upon his robes. Fifth, sweat issued from beneath his arms.

Sixth, his body became thin and emaciated. Seventh, he could no longer remain in his seat.” He then thought to himself, “After my life ends, I must abandon my celestial throne, my palace of the seven treasures, my ponds, gardens, and orchards, my naturally appearing food and drink, and every kind of singing girl, entertainer, and music. I must then descend to be born as an offspring in the womb of a leprous sow in the land of Kusinagara.” He became deeply distressed and did not know what he could do to escape that retribution.

A certain deva said: “The Buddha is now here expounding the sutra for his mother and delivering all beings throughout the three times. Only the Buddha can save you from your offense.” The deva then went before the Buddha, bowed his head, and paid homage. Before he could ask his question, the Buddha said to the deva: “All things are impermanent.

You already knew this, so why do you still grieve?” The deva said to the Buddha: “Although I know that heavenly merit cannot last long, I am distressed because I must leave this heavenly station and become the piglet of a leprous sow. I regard that as a calamity; if I were to assume some other body, I would not dare to be afraid.” The Buddha taught: “If you wish to escape the body of a piglet, you should recite the Threefold Refuge: Homage to the Dharma; homage to the bhikshu Sangha.

I take refuge in the Buddha; I take refuge in the Dharma; I take refuge in the bhikshu Sangha. Recite this three times each day.”

Following the Buddha’s teaching, the deva recited the Three Refuges day and night. Seven days later, the deva’s life ended, and he descended to be born as the son of a wealthy elder in the country of Vaishali. While still in his mother’s womb, he recited the Three Refuges every day. As soon as he was born and fell to the ground, he knelt and recited the Three Refuges. When his mother gave birth, there was no impurity. The attendant beside her was frightened and fled. The mother, too, found it exceedingly strange that her child had spoken as soon as he fell to the ground. Believing it to be an uncanny illusion, she intended to kill him.

After returning, she thought to herself: “My little child is extraordinary. If I kill him, his father will hold me guilty. I shall tell the elder gradually; it will not be too late to kill him afterward.” The mother then took the infant in her arms and went to tell the elder: “I have given birth to a son.

The moment he fell to the ground, he joined his palms, knelt, and took refuge in the Three Jewels.” The entire household found this strange and regarded it as an illusion. The father said: “Do not! Do not!

This is no ordinary child. People in this world may live to be a hundred, or eighty or ninety, yet still not know to take refuge in the Three Jewels. How much more extraordinary that a newborn child can be mindful of ‘Homage to the Buddha.’ Raise him with great care, and be sure never to treat him disrespectfully.”

The child grew up. When he had just turned seven, he was playing with other children by the roadside. At that time the Buddha’s disciples Shariputra and Mahamaudgalyayana happened to pass beside him.

He immediately approached them, paid homage, and said: “Reverence to Venerable Shariputra and Venerable Mahamaudgalyayana.” Shariputra and Maudgalyayana were astonished and marveled that the child knew how to pay reverence to bhikshus. The child said: “Masters, do you not recognize me? When the Buddha was in heaven expounding the sutra for his mother, I was then a deva about to descend and become a pig.

Following the Buddha’s teaching, I recited the Three Refuges and thereby obtained human birth.” The two bhikshus immediately entered meditative concentration and discerned the truth. They then bestowed their blessing, saying: “Excellent!”

The child said to Shariputra and Maudgalyayana: “In my name, please invite the Blessed One, the bodhisattva Sangha, and you two venerable ones.” Maudgalyayana and Shariputra agreed and accepted the invitation. The child returned home and said to his parents: “Just now, while I was out playing, I encountered two disciples of the Buddha passing by. I therefore invited the Buddha and the four assemblies of his disciples to receive a meal.

Please prepare delicious food.” His parents loved him and did as he requested. They marveled that, although so young, he could give rise to such a magnanimous heart; and they also marveled that he spoke of knowing his former life. They therefore prepared exceedingly precious and exquisite foods and sought out refined bowls and dishes, surpassing even what the child had envisioned.

The Buddha and the Sangha each employed the spiritual power arising from their merit and came to the child’s home to receive the meal. When the parents and all the adults and children had completed their offerings, they presented fragrant water for washing and duly performed everything in accordance with the Dharma. The Buddha then expounded the sutra for them. At that time the parents, the child, and all their relatives, both within and outside the household, attained non-retrogression.

Such is the merit of taking refuge, by which beings may be delivered. How much more so when one cultivates the path throughout one’s entire life!