佛開解梵志阿颰經

Thus have I heard:

At one time, the Buddha was wandering in Viet Ky together with a full assembly of five hundred sramanas, and they were seated beneath a tree outside the city of Co Xa. In a village there lived a wealthy and benevolent brahmin named Phi Ca Sa, who thoroughly understood the scriptures and the movements of the stars. Whatever anyone asked him, he was able to answer. He had five hundred disciples, the foremost of whom was named A Bat.

A Bat asked his teacher:

“Today a Buddha has arrived. Everyone praises the Buddha’s virtue, and his fame pervades heaven and earth. I wonder what kind of person he is?”

Phi Ca Sa replied:

“I have heard that he belongs to the Sakya clan and was the crown prince of a kingdom. It appears that he had no teacher, but composed scriptures by himself to teach and transform sentient beings.”

A Bat said:

“If he had no teacher, how could his reputation be good? Moreover, the sons of kings are generally arrogant, lustful, and fond of pleasure. How could he travel on foot, humble himself to beg for alms, and tirelessly instruct others? Is he truly an authentic person? I hope that you, Master, can go and examine his virtue in the Way.”

Phi Ca Sa said:

“That is not appropriate. In this world, I am virtuous, wealthy, intelligent, and highly accomplished. He has only recently appeared, so by rights he should come to pay his respects to me. I should not go to him.”

A Bat said:

“I have heard that Sakra, lord of the devas, and the seventh Brahma god both come to attend upon him. The disciples he teaches all attain the five superknowledges: they fly lightly through the air, see far and hear without obstruction, know the intentions of human beings, and know whence beings are born and where they go after death. Moreover, he is the teacher of devas. Why should you not go to pay him a visit?”

Phi Ca Sa said:

“The scriptures state that when an imperial ruler begets a son endowed with the thirty-two auspicious marks, that son will immediately become a wheel-turning emperor, ruling the four continents beneath heaven and naturally possessing the seven treasures:

1. The precious golden wheel

2. The precious white elephant

3. The precious horse

4. The precious jewel-woman

5. The precious divine jewel

6. The precious steward

7. The precious wise minister.

He will have a thousand sons, all skilled, intelligent, and valiant in battle, each capable of opposing a thousand men. Without employing armies, swords, or clubs, his realm will remain peaceful throughout his life. If he renounces the world, he will naturally become a Buddha and employ the unconditioned Dharma to teach and deliver people so that they attain the Way. Could this be that very person? Go and examine him. If he possesses those marks, then he truly is a Buddha, and I shall honor him.”

A Bat said:

“Please permit me to go together with my fellow students.”

His teacher said, “Very well!”

A Bat and his teacher’s five hundred disciples went together to the Buddha. They all descended from their carriages, respectfully joined their palms, and bowed before the Buddha. The Buddha told them to sit down, and all five hundred took their seats. Only A Bat remained uneasy, looking left and glancing right as he carefully examined the Buddha’s marks. The Buddha knew his intention, so he too rose and acted accordingly. When A Bat stood, the Buddha also stood; when A Bat sat, the Buddha also sat. A Bat then asked the Buddha:

“What paths do you follow? What is the meaning of shaving off your hair and beard, wearing a kasaya robe, and carrying an alms bowl?”

The Buddha said:

“Since I first sought the Way, throughout innumerable, exceedingly distant kalpas, I have constantly honored the Buddhas and practiced the bodhisattva path. I have revered and served countless teachers and spiritual friends. Therefore, I shave off my hair and beard, observe the precepts throughout my life, and renounce craving and attachment.

Nor do I adorn myself with finery, so that people of the world will not become attached to me and I will not become attached to them. Wearing the kasaya Dharma robe signifies the lineage of the ancient sages, liberation from the bonds of defilement, and freedom from thoughts of the world. The alms bowl is the appropriate vessel that a practitioner of the Way should use, restraining body and mind so as to awaken and accepting nothing unrighteous.

These are the emblems of the pure, unconditioned Dharma. Now I have become a Buddha, the teacher of all beneath heaven. You may freely ask whatever you wish.”

A Bat said:

“Our teacher, whom we revere, is named Phi Ca Sa. He has been renowned for generations for his intelligence, and his fame is known far and near. Furthermore, he descends from a lineage of brahmins and is distinguished above others. Although the world regards kings as noble, some among them are inhumane; only those of my lineage take no pleasure in killing living beings.”

The Buddha taught:

“I have always abhorred killing living beings, and therefore sought the Buddha’s unsurpassed, right, and true Way. Those of your brahmin lineage merely speak of esteeming benevolence. Although their hands do not kill, their minds still harbor thoughts of killing. Now that I am a Buddha, my body, speech, and mind are all pure, and I do not harm or kill in any way whatsoever. I exhort all people beneath heaven not to delight in killing and teach them to practice benevolence and righteousness.”

A Bat asked:

“The Buddha has now abandoned wife and children, thereby cutting off his own lineage and leaving no heir. How can this compare with my teacher, whose succession has continued from generation to generation?”

The Buddha taught:

“The lineages of human beings throughout the world differ from one life to the next. Those who lived in former lives have each at one time been my children, and I too have at one time been the child of every person. Beings come together and then part; family lineages are impermanent. One who was formerly an enemy may now become a relative, while one who was formerly a relative may now become an enemy. The gathering and dispersing of causes and conditions are all like illusions. Parents, wife, and children are inherently not my relatives, nor am I their relative. People of the world commit evil deeds merely for the sake of what they take to be the self—or even for what is not the self—and afterward must undergo suffering.

“Long ago, I was a kshatriya king named Co Ma Sang, and I had four sons. The first was named Uc Cam, the second Kien Ni, the third Do, and the fourth Huong. Before the king had passed away, the four sons began contending for the throne.

When the king heard of this, he became deeply grieved and anxious. Thinking that his four sons would kill the people in their struggle for the throne, he entrusted the affairs of state to others and departed eastward. With every step he took, he thought to himself: ‘How long does a human life endure, that I should remain forever burdened by worry?

As king, I desired children. Now that I have children, they seek to kill one another. Of what benefit are such children to anyone?

I cannot bear to witness brothers slaughtering one another. Yet if I kill them, I fear there will be no one to continue the lineage. I should simply leave home and become a sramana.’ He then entered the northern mountains, where he encountered Ca Ty Giao living in a thatched hermitage.

There was also a practitioner of the Way named Ma Ly. The king asked Ma Ly why he had undertaken the study of the Way.

“Ma Ly said of himself:

“‘I married a wife but had no children, and I was ashamed before all the families. Therefore, I became a sramana.’

“The king said:

“‘How strange! I was a king and had four sons. Although I had not yet died, my sons were already causing disorder throughout the kingdom. Unable to bear witnessing such a scene, I therefore undertook the Way.’

“Understanding this, Ma Ly became even more diligent.

“Thus it is, A Bat. Even if one desires virtuous children, when their father grows old, falls ill, and dies, the children may still seize the throne. If one commits evil while alive and falls into hell after death, one’s children cannot take one’s place. Therefore, I have always employed a mind of loving-kindness and compassion to aid humans and other beings. I attained the Way, realized Buddhahood, and delivered sentient beings to liberation.”

A Bat said:

“The Buddha is indeed beyond compare. Today there are four classes of people beneath heaven: nobles, brahmins, farmers, and artisans. Only my brahmin lineage is both pure and noble. The other three classes must all honor and serve my lineage.”

The Buddha said:

“Suppose your lineage is pure and noble, but a wife happens to have no children and must take a servant woman to bear a son. Would that son be accepted?”

He replied, “He would be accepted.”

The Buddha asked, “Now, if your ancestral grandmother chose a woman of lowly status to continue the family line, could that lineage still be called pure and noble?”

A Bat remained silent. The five hundred disciples all rose and said:

“Śramaṇa Gautama, why do you disparage our lineage? A Bạt is endowed with wisdom and can engage you in debate.”

The Buddha said:

“Let everyone remain silent. Whoever possesses wisdom should debate on his own behalf.” The Buddha questioned them about their ancestor, asking as many as three times, yet no one answered. The vajra-bearing guardian raised his great mace and said, “The Buddha has asked you again; why do you not answer?”

Terrified, A Bạt replied:

“It is truly just as the Buddha has said.”

The other five hundred people said:

“The Buddha’s noble wisdom is indeed illuminating. A Bạt’s mother truly was a servant girl in the household of the Śākyas. From this day forward, we shall no longer respect him.”

The Buddha taught:

“That is not so. In this world, a mother may be lowly, yet her son may be worthy and noble. A Bạt is a worthy man and should not be disparaged. If a man of the brahmin lineage takes a daughter of the kshatriya lineage and they have a son who grows to maturity, should the son learn from his father or from his mother?”

They all replied:

“He should learn from his father.”

The Buddha taught:

“If so, what harm is there if his mother is lowly? If the son grows to maturity, masters the scriptures, and possesses virtue surpassing even that of his father, you should respect him all the more. If the daughter of a brahmin becomes the wife of a kshatriya and bears a son who grows to maturity, and although he knows that his mother’s family is virtuous, he refuses to learn from them, instead imitating his father by hunting and killing living beings, would you respect him?”

They all replied:

“He should not be respected.”

The Buddha taught:

“If so, why speak of the mother’s side? Suppose A Bạt had a virtuous son of peerless wisdom and ability; you should place him above yourselves. Suppose both father and mother belonged to the brahmin lineage, but their son was worthless and lacked integrity; what would you do?”

They all replied:

“We would seat him upon a lower seat.”

The Buddha taught:

“Thus, is lineage an invariable factor or not? If the son of a brahmin kills living beings, steals, and violates the law, should the officials arrest him?”

They replied, “They should arrest him.”

“Why, when he does not resist, would he say, ‘My lineage is noble; you should not arrest me’?”

They replied, “Since he is presently guilty, how could lineage be invoked?”

The Buddha taught:

“Now I am the Buddha, teaching the people truthful speech, benevolence, and filial devotion, so that they may abandon desire, anger, and delusion and maintain equanimity. Those who commit evil I instruct not to kill, steal, engage in sexual misconduct, lie, drink intoxicants, or make offerings to heterodox cults. When people committed evil in former lives, their bodies must undergo retribution; if they also slaughter living beings as sacrifices to heaven, their offenses become still heavier and bring no benefit whatsoever.

Moreover, the intent of heaven is pure and benevolent; how could it consume human food? Spirits assist those who possess virtue, and refraining from killing is a blessing. Therefore, when the worthy and wise rulers of the world hear the Buddha’s scriptures and precepts, they forever abandon such acts and vow not to commit evil.

They would rather die while preserving the precepts, and their spirits will be reborn in heaven. Whoever can maintain a mind of utmost purity will attain the four fruits of the śramaṇa path: first, Cấu cảng (stream-enterer); second, Tần lai (once-returner); third, Bất hoàn (non-returner); and fourth, Ứng chơn (arhat).

“Furthermore, although the kings of the world govern their realms and desire peace, they are still obliged to collect taxes from the people, for their covetous intentions have not yet been eliminated. But now, as the Buddha, I cause people to become entirely free from sensual desire and realize the unconditioned path. From the time I first sought the path until now, throughout innumerable kalpas, in every life I have made this vow:

“‘May I abandon craving and desire and cultivate the practice of a śramaṇa, neither delighting in anything nor rejecting anything. Among the wise and discerning people and noble persons throughout the world, none who hear the Buddha’s scriptures and precepts fail to practice them. Those who do not comply will all regret it afterward. Whoever restrains the mind and is free from covetous desire immediately severs the path of sorrowful birth and death. If people do not cling lovingly to one another, they will be freed from suffering. Life is impermanent, and human beings are like bubbles upon water: when one thing comes into being, another decays; how could anything endure?’”

The Buddha asked A Bạt:

“What does your teacher use to instruct you?”

He replied, “My teacher teaches that we must not kill people or cattle; must not steal gold or silver; must not engage in sexual misconduct with the wife of our teacher or the wives of fellow disciples; and must not drink intoxicants. Only upon reaching the age of forty-eight may one take a wife. My teacher teaches people to observe these eight precepts throughout their lives. I do not know what meaning the Buddha’s precepts hold.”

The Buddha taught:

“If you wish to hear, listen attentively. If a son of a good family comes to me and personally declares that he delights in my precepts, I will transmit the precepts to him according to his individual capacity. One who cultivates the path while dwelling at home is called a faithful layman and must observe the five precepts:

1) One must not delight in killing birds, beasts, or any other creatures, even the smallest of them. One must not injure their bodies, much less take up knives or clubs to torment them. The mind should contemplate benevolence, and the mouth should not command others to kill.

2) One must not steal or covet the property and possessions of others, cheat with scales, or falsify measures. One must not appropriate even the smallest measurable object belonging to another. The mind must remain mindful of righteousness, and the mouth must not instruct others to steal.

3) One must not delight in sexual misconduct or violate another person’s wife. One must not gaze upon beautiful forms or listen to enticing music. The mind must cultivate proper conduct and the prohibitions, and one’s words must not transgress what is proper.

4) One must not lie, slander, or make false accusations in order to incriminate another. One’s words should be spoken at the proper time and should be truthful and trustworthy. The mind must not openly display arrogance, and the mouth must neither praise nor disparage.

5) One must not drink intoxicants or deliberately become intoxicated. The mind must not crave intoxicants, and the mouth must not taste them. Intoxicants entail thirty-six faults; one must not encourage others to drink them. These are called the precepts for my faithful laymen.”

The Buddha taught:

“I do not summon people, but they come of their own accord to request respectfully to receive the precepts and instruction, to abandon evil and practice goodness. When worthy and wise people in the world wish to become śramaṇas, I first ask them, ‘Through what conditions have you awakened?’

“As human beings, they must be filial and respectful, taking the care and support of their parents as their foremost duty. If they wish to study the path, they must repay their parents’ kindness. Only after their parents have consented do I expound the śramaṇa precepts to them.

There are 250 precepts, which they must observe purely throughout their lives. They must not abandon them midway and thereby betray the kindness of those who make offerings. Only when someone earnestly entreats me, with unwavering faith, and is able to uphold laws such as these do I confer the precepts upon him.

The śramaṇa’s precepts take compassion as their foundation. He must not slaughter even the smallest creature but must always show pity to people and animals, regarding them as his own infant children. He must not harbor enmity or engage in litigation, but should hope that people will be upright.

He should constantly remember the kindness of his parents, teachers, and friends, diligently seek the path, and aspire to liberate his parents. A śramaṇa must not greedily use deception to seize another’s wealth or possessions. Upon seeing precious riches, he should regard them as dust and sand.

Even when others offer them, he should not accept them; if he does accept them, he must not keep them but should give them to the poor and destitute. He should constantly teach everyone the virtue of freedom from greed.

“A śramaṇa must not take a wife to continue his family line. He must guard himself and remain far from women, sealing off the avenues of sexual desire. When he sees a beautiful form, his eyes must not gaze upon it. He should regard an elderly woman as his mother and a young woman as his sister. If his mind cannot be stilled, he must contemplate impurity to eliminate lustful conduct, for birth and death both arise from deluded craving.”

A śramaṇa must not speak falsely, use embellished speech, slander others, or make false accusations against them. What he has seen or heard, he must relate truthfully; what is unrighteous, he must not spread. He should reconcile those in dispute, speak well of both parties, and speak gently in order to uphold what is right. He must not speak of the private affairs of others.

A śramaṇa must not chant songs, sing, dance for amusement, engage in jesting, or discuss musical performances. He must diligently contemplate, reviewing what is old to understand what is new. Whatever a śramaṇa says must be the words of a Dharma teacher. Those who do not listen will not have their minds opened and broadened. Morning and evening, he must recite the sutras without error. He should earnestly practice the essentials of the path, with the aim of eliminating all defilements; when expounding the Dharma for others, his contemplation must accord with its meaning.

A śramaṇa must not desire fine beds. His garments must not be made of embroidered silk. In eating and drinking, he must not crave delicious flavors. He must not use utensils ornamented with gold or silver, but should use only an alms bowl made of fired clay or tin.

A śramaṇa must not drink alcohol, eat meat, or long to savor various flavors. He must not drink medicinal wine or go to places where alcohol is sold.

A śramaṇa must not rub fragrant flowers upon his body or perfume his garments. He must be constantly mindful of observing the precepts.

A śramaṇa must not purchase servants or slaves, hire out goods or children, or accept any such persons or things if they are brought and offered to him.

A śramaṇa must not raise livestock or indulge his mind by riding in carriages or on horseback.

A śramaṇa must not store grain or rice. Every morning he should go on alms round to no more than seven houses. If he receives nothing at one house, he may proceed to a second; if, after making the circuit of seven houses, he still receives nothing, he should drink only water.

When a śramaṇa enters a village, he should be like a bird that, having eaten its fill, flies away without longing for what remains. If he receives no food, his mind should not become angry.

Having left the household life, a śramaṇa must not seek comfort in his dwelling or desire a fine house. He should dwell only in mountains and forests, beside ponds, or beneath trees.

A śramaṇa must not engage in trade for profit or speculate about this and that—which is valuable and which is base.

A śramaṇa must not busy himself with fields and gardens, reclaiming land to plant grain, nor keep such cultivation in mind or delight in agricultural work.

A śramaṇa must not discuss delight in lands, rivers, waters, fragrances, or flowers. He must single-mindedly contemplate the path and think of nothing else.

A śramaṇa must not discuss whether villages, towns, or countries are bad or good, superior or inferior.

A śramaṇa must not comment on the property of fellow practitioners—fields, houses, grain, garments, food, and drink—saying that one has such things while another does not.

A śramaṇa must not converse while lying down or talk while eating. He must not speculate about affairs of government, military preparations, campaigns and conquests, or victory and defeat.

A śramaṇa must not discuss whether garments and food are good or bad, delicious or unpalatable, nor even praise or disparage the quality of spring water.

A śramaṇa must not discuss whether the physical features of animals are good or bad. Such is the conversation of fools, not discourse concerning the Dharma of the path.

A śramaṇa must not proclaim that he understands the sutras while others do not comprehend them. He should reproach himself as one who is not yet worthy and must not be arrogant or conceited.

When expounding the Dharma, a śramaṇa must not say, “My sutra is excellent, while your sutra is entangled in error; my observance of the precepts is pure, while your observance is defiled.” He must not say, “My teacher is discerning, while your teacher is not.” The Buddha’s sutras are unified, and the refuge to which they lead is not twofold. Those who possess resolve, though still young, should take responsibility upon themselves and demonstrate it; they should neither praise nor disparage. One must not think, “I belong to a great clan, while your lineage is of no account.” One must not say of oneself, “What you teach cannot compare with what I teach.”

A śramaṇa must not regard his own beds, seats, garments, pillows, and bedding as fine while those of others are coarse. He must not look in a mirror while shaving or dwell upon objects that are soft and smooth. He must not watch wealthy householders auction off the poor and lowly, nor watch animals fight and gore one another.

He must not imitate hand-to-hand fighting, play the game of xu bo, gamble with cards or dice, watch the outcomes of games, or lie about idly waiting to be fed. He must not ponder which region or commandery lies where, or how many miles it is from one place to another. He must not practice medicine for boys, girls, cattle, or horses.

He must not teach people to speak recklessly or instruct them whether they should speak. He must not practice for amusement with weapons, blades, staffs, or thrown projectiles. He must not study physiognomy to determine whether men and women are poor or wealthy, noble or lowly, whether they possess auspicious marks or lack them, nor study the features of the six kinds of domestic animals.

He must not pursue divination concerning whether years of calamity and drought will bring abundance or poverty.

A śramaṇa must not study calendrical calculations, predict the waxing, waning, or eclipses of the sun and moon, the appearance of ominous stars, the collapse of mountains, earthquakes, or the rains and winds of the year. None of these things may be studied.

A śramaṇa must not eat after midday. Though his garments, food, and drink are coarse, his mind must harbor no resentment. He should always carry his alms bowl at his left hip.

Wherever he goes, he should not worry about hunger or cold, but always carry his alms bowl with him, as a bird bears its wings. His mouth must not consume improper food. His six sense faculties must always remain upright and composed.

His mind must know shame, and he must harbor neither anger nor resentment because the body suffers. He should vow to uphold the sutras of the precepts. His eyes must not glance covetously at forms; though his ears, nose, tongue, and body encounter what is pleasant or unpleasant, his mind must remain unmoved.

He should be moderate in eating and drinking, so that his body is neither hungry nor full and may find repose. Even if he sleeps, he must not sleep for long. Maintaining a lofty resolve, he should remain constantly bound to the path of liberation through Nirvana.

It is like a filial child who buries his parents in the morning and, grieving, weeping, and remembering them, does not forget them for a single moment. Thus do my śramaṇas maintain their resolve and practice the path: when seated, they meditate; when they rise, they recite and recollect the teachings. They remain ever wakeful and diligent and do not transgress the precepts and conduct.

Such are disciples of the Buddha.

The Buddha told Abat:

“Precepts such as these number two hundred and fifty. I have now explained them only in brief. A śramaṇa must restrain his mind and not allow it to become heedless.

Dwelling in a secluded and pure place, he must abandon lust, anger, and delusion in order to attain wisdom. He must constantly extend a mind of loving-kindness and compassion toward all under heaven, relinquish craving and the desire for sleep, and place single-minded faith in the Dharma. Only when doubt no longer remains can he attain arhatship.

An arhat is one who has realized the fruit of the Worthy One. It is like a person in the world who lives in poverty and distress under a burden of debt and surely rejoices when wealth and profit come into his possession. It is also like a criminal long confined in prison for whom a virtuous elder devises a means of release.

It is like a person who escapes the condition of slavery and becomes a free and honorable citizen. Again, it is like one who has suffered illness for many years and is cured by taking the medicine of a compassionate father. It is also like a merchant who returns home from a perilous road bearing precious goods.

“In these five analogies, the people all rejoice. My śramaṇas are likewise. They reflect upon birth and death, upon having long been bound by the five skandhas and having undergone immeasurable suffering, and upon now attaining liberation.

“What are the five skandhas? The first is form, the second is feeling, the third is perception, the fourth is formations, and the fifth is consciousness. These five things obscure people and prevent them from seeing the path.

“A śramaṇa reflects and understands the principle of impermanence: this body is not mine. His deluded mind then becomes clear, and his mind no longer craves, clings, or becomes attached. When the form skandha has been eliminated, that is the first joy.”

The śramaṇa recollects and reflects: seeing within his own body the five viscera, filthy and impure, his thoughts of sensual desire are immediately abandoned; good and evil are no longer two. The skandha of sensation (feeling) having been eliminated, this is the second joy.

The śramaṇa diligently reflects: “Seeing affection and craving as suffering, I do not create any conditioned dharmas subject to outflows, and entertain no perception of pleasurable contact. The skandha of perception having been eliminated, this is the third joy.”

The śramaṇa reflects: “Body, speech, and mind are pure; there is neither delight nor anger. Intention is quiescent, neither arising nor creating anything. The skandha of formations having been eliminated, this is the fourth joy.”

The śramaṇa thinks to himself: “Having been purified through the Buddha’s teaching and transformation, I have severed all causes and conditions, and delusion and craving have been completely extinguished. The skandha of consciousness having been eliminated, this is the fifth joy.”

The Buddha said to A Bạt:

“My śramaṇas cast aside all desires and uphold the sutras and precepts in order to sever birth and death. Thus, in this life they no longer harbor thoughts of sorrowful weeping or mutual attachment. I do not crave others, nor do others crave me; yet through the Way I lovingly remember all beings and wish to bring them to liberation.

“Those who practice the Way endure bodily hardship for one lifetime, whereas those who do not follow the Way undergo suffering for many kalpas. It is like bathing, which cleanses only the outside but cannot remove the mind’s impurities. For those who have attained the fruit of the Worthy and True One, the arhat, all evils have been completely ended.

“Ordinary people must devote their minds to following it. The mind of one who practices the Way is single and concentrated, like a stone within the earth: though scorched by the sun, it does not melt; though inundated by rain, it does not dissolve; though buffeted by wind, it does not move. Transcending the ordinary and mundane, one immediately accomplishes the great Way. When the mind and thoughts have cooled, they are no longer scorched by the fire of sensual desire. This is like a lotus that emerges from filthy mud while its root remains in the water, yet the impure water cannot stain it.

“The śramaṇa thinks to himself: ‘Parents nurture their children, bestowing great kindness for one lifetime. The Buddha instructs and transforms all beneath heaven, enabling people to attain the Way and personally perceive the origin and course of birth and death in the five destinies. They understand the span of human life; their resolve has become true and upright, and they teach and transform with mastery.

If they wish to ascend to heaven, they ascend; if they wish to enter the sea, they enter. It is like bathing a corpse with fragrant water: one cannot thereby make the corpse fragrant. If goodness is taught to an evil person, that person will not necessarily follow it.

When a person’s mind is evil, both speech and body are evil. External learning is merely indulgence and is not the true Way. When practitioners of the Way hear such things, they ultimately make no reply, knowing that the perceptions and thoughts of ordinary people are all inverted.

Fools do not understand the Way; they regard the correct as deviant and cannot distinguish the true from the false. Sages pity them and therefore increase their compassion in order to save and liberate them.’

“The śramaṇa guards his thoughts like a person wearing new robes, who is careful whether sitting or standing and does not wish to soil them. Thus, one who observes the precepts constantly battles with the mind; even if a hundred evils arise, one ultimately follows none of them.

“Parents give birth to a child and, while the child is young, teach and guide the child to follow the Way. If, upon growing up, the child commits a capital crime, the parents cannot be blamed. It is like trying to sit upon a suspended seat that has wood but no cords: one cannot sit upon it.

A disciple without an enlightened teacher likewise cannot attain the Way. These Confucian scholars, in my former lives, served many sages and worthies and received extraordinary teachings, all because their teacher, one who had attained the unconditioned, instructed them. Those who attain the fruit of arhatship can themselves clearly set forth where they attained the fruit of Stream-enterer, where they attained the fruit of Once-returner and Non-returner, and how they proceeded as far as the Worthy and True One.

They are entirely liberated and no longer undergo birth and death. They clearly understand what is broad and what is narrow, as one viewing a beautiful painting can distinguish its five colors. Seeing that people throughout the world all possess the three poisons—arrogance, heedlessness, and craving for flavors—they know that they themselves have cast these off.

They no longer desire rebirth in heaven, nor do they delight in dwelling in the human realm; they think only of sentient beings and wish them to attain liberation. Ordinary people who have not yet heard the true Dharma must study it thoroughly, like taking a five-colored silk cord and threading beads of lapis lazuli, so that all five colors appear.

“Those who have attained the eye of the Way see whence a person’s spiritual consciousness comes and where it goes after death. They know whose spiritual consciousness, after death, will fall into hell; who will fall among animals; who will fall among hungry ghosts; who will be born among humans; and who, after death, will be reborn in heaven. Those who accomplish the Way know this themselves.

Having severed these five places of birth and fulfilled their aspiration, they regard this body as dust and earth; even if their body were ground to dust, it would be of no consequence. Having clearly discerned the true and the false, they are like one entering clear water, where sand, pebbles, and precious gems are all plainly visible. They foresee that beneath heaven one person may become a hundred, and a hundred people may become one.

This is because one person gives birth to children, whose lineage continues through grandchildren and great-grandchildren, flourishing until they number a hundred; or a hundred people gradually die and dwindle away until none remain, or perhaps only one remains.

“The śramaṇa who has attained the Way sees good and evil in their entirety. He knows which person, after death, will be born in a good destiny, and also knows which person, after death, will be born in an evil destiny. He further sees the domain of the four great elements within the body and knows the length or brevity of a person’s lifespan, suffering, and happiness.

Because the origin was not understood, mental consciousness gives rise to formations; formations condition name-and-form. Merely through the convergence of causes and conditions, one is conceived in a mother’s womb, and thereafter people cherish and remember one another. Parents say, ‘My child,’ and the child says, ‘My parents,’ while the spirit revolves and changes without anyone knowing it himself.

One who was good in a former life is born again as a human being, wealthy, honored, and long-lived; one who was not good suffers and dies young. All of this arises from former karma. Heaven, earth, humans, and all things depend upon the four vital elements: first, earth; second, water; third, fire; and fourth, wind.

Within the human body, what is solid is earth, what is moist is water, what is warm and hot is fire, and the breath is wind. One lives by depending upon them and, at death, returns to the four great elements. Examined from origin to outcome, everything is born from other things, yet ordinary people know nothing of this.

Between heaven and earth, birth is like a dream; life is brief, and after struggling and turning about, one dies. It is like wind blowing across the sea, with successive waves pursuing one another. Birth and death are likewise: coming and going without cease.”

A śramaṇa who has attained the Way knows completely the beginning and end, the before and after, and the formation and destruction of heaven and earth within a kalpa. When he takes birth again, he also knows events from innumerable, distant kalpas. He also knows that among all the sages who have attained the Way under heaven, none is equal to the Buddha. He knows for himself that the mind originally had myriad threads, but now they have become one. He constantly has compassion for sentient beings whose minds are disturbed by the conjunction of craving, anger, and delusion, or who, because of affection and attachment, do not know the essential point.

One who has attained the Way and acquired spiritual powers is like a person looking into a mirror. He can fly without obstruction and pass through cliffs and walls. He can stand upon Mount Sumeru and touch the sun and moon with his hand. He can cause water or fire to issue from his body. He can vanish beneath the earth and then appear elsewhere. He can sit or lie in empty space at will. He can command Māra, Brahmā, Śakra, and the devas, and there is nothing he cannot overturn.

It is like a potter firing tiles, bricks, and vessels so that water cannot seep through them. An ordinary person is like an unfired tile, while one who has attained the Way is like a fired tile: it may be made dry or wet, and even if water passes over it, it will not break. It is also like a goldsmith who can fashion whatever object he wishes. One who has attained the spiritual powers is likewise able to transform things at will. A potter fires clay to make useful vessels. My śramaṇas are also like this: by guarding their minds, they accomplish the Way.

It is like a dry oxhide, which makes a sound when rolled up and also when unrolled; when moistened, it becomes supple, soft whether rolled or unrolled. The mind established in the Way is likewise entirely supple, without rigidity. It is like being atop a high tower and seeing people below singing and dancing, and hearing bells, drums, and the cries of the six kinds of domestic animals.

The Way is like this: one can hear the music of the heavenly realms and also hear the cries of suffering, hunger, and thirst in the hells and among hungry ghosts. One clearly sees people’s minds, discerning those with desire and those without desire, and their various states of joy, anger, love, hatred, foolishness, wisdom, strength, and weakness; those easy to guide and those difficult to guide; and wholesome paths and unwholesome paths—all can be distinguished and clearly known.

It is like a person who delights in bathing and rubbing the body: if the whole body has not yet been cleansed, he continues rubbing until fully satisfied. One endowed with the eye of the Way observes and knows those who can be delivered, and immediately uses the Buddha’s scriptures to open their understanding and transmit the teaching to them. Once their minds have become wholesome, they are reborn as human beings, their conduct becomes lofty, and after death they are born in heaven. If they maintain the precepts in purity, they immediately attain the four fruits of śramaṇa practice.

After attaining the Way, one knows the events of one lifetime, ten lifetimes, a hundred lifetimes, and innumerable lifetimes. One also knows the kalpas of formation and destruction and the beginning and end of heaven and earth. One knows that throughout innumerable kalpas this body was born from that existence, and knows at each birth who one’s parents were, what one’s name and age were, and to what lineage one belonged.

One knows the length of one’s lifespan in other lives. One knows when one was born from the human realm into heaven and then from heaven was born again as a human being; or when one fell from humanity into hell, and from hell became an animal or a hungry ghost. One knows when one emerged from the realm of hungry ghosts and obtained a human body; or when one passed from humanity to become a ghost or spirit, from the realm of ghosts and spirits fell into hell, and afterward was born in heaven.

He distinguishes all these and, through his own contemplation, knows them clearly. It is like a traveler far from home remembering his native land.

With fully developed consciousness, he contemplates and sees the five destinies, knows for himself that he has attained liberation, and that the power of the Way has become sovereign. If he wishes to live for a hundred years, a thousand years, ten thousand years, or even innumerable kalpas, he can do so. If he wishes not to eat for ten days, a hundred days, one year, a hundred years, or even innumerable years, he can do so; when he wishes to eat, he eats. It is like ascending a high tower and hearing and seeing the people below, whether they are sitting or standing; all voices coming from the east, west, south, or north can be heard.

The practitioner of the Way knows for himself: “My mind has been purified, and both good and evil have been eliminated.” It is like a person who delights in wrongdoing, violates the law, and is punished by officials, who wrap the carcass of a dead dog around his neck and lead him about everywhere. That person is deeply ashamed and wishes to be freed from it quickly. An arhat is likewise ashamed of this body.

There are two kinds of arhats: 1/ Extinguishing and 2/ Protecting. They are called Extinguishing because, concerned with attaining the Way for themselves, they immediately enter Nirvana. They are called Protecting because they are concerned with safeguarding people and universally delivering all under heaven. It is like clear water in which sand, stones, fish, and turtles naturally appear. Once the mind established in the Way has become pure, it immediately sees every consciousness under heaven. So it is with the śramaṇa.

Are the teaching and guidance provided by your master equal to this?

A Bạt replied:

—This is truly difficult to equal.

The Buddha said:

—I see that in the world there are also ascetics who do not know the Buddhadharma, who live secluded beside ponds and marshes, eating nothing but vegetables and grasses, and who say, “There is no need for a teacher; one will naturally realize the Way.” Do such people attain the Way?

He replied:

—They do not attain the Way.

The Buddha said:

—The Way is attained through the mind; there must be a teacher and there must be Dharma.

¯ The foregoing is the first deluded way of believing in the Way.

—There are also ascetics who gather a hundred kinds of plants, branches, leaves, flowers, and fruits to prepare medicines. They take these medicines themselves and believe that they can thereby become immortals. Do your master and his disciples also believe this?

He replied:

—We do not believe it.

¯ This is the second deluded way of believing in the Way.

—There are ascetics who abandon their parents, wear deerskin garments, sleep upon grass mats, let their hair hang loose, abstain from food, and bow to heaven while seeking the Way. They merely torment themselves and accomplish no Way at all. Do you imitate them?

He replied:

—We do not imitate them.

¯ This is the third deluded way of believing in the Way.

There are also ascetics who dwell in remote and isolated places deep in mountains and secluded valleys. They proclaim that they possess the Way, worship water, fire, the sun, the moon, and the five planets, and kill living beings as sacrifices to heaven, hoping thereby to obtain abundant blessings. Do you act in this way?

He replied:

—We do not act in this way.

¯ This is the fourth deluded way of believing in the Way.

The Buddha told A Bạt:

—Since heaven and earth first unfolded, there have been twenty-three great brahmin ascetics named: Kỳ Đồ, Lưu Hao, Tận Đà, Ca Di, A Nhu, Ca Thần, Linh Di, Át Siêu, Viêm Mao, Ba Mật, Lam Hóa, A Luân, Cầu Đàm, Kỳ Tảng, Linh Lệ, Ca Diếp, Bạo Phục, A Bát, Khê Hiệt, Ưu Sát, Ba Lợi, Nghiêu Cảnh, and Pha Khư. The cities and fortifications of heaven and earth were created through the combined efforts of these twenty-three. Is Phí Ca Sa now equal to them?

He replied:

—He is not their equal.

The Buddha said:

—How great is your master that he can serve as the teacher of sovereigns and enable them to attain the Way?

He replied:

—He cannot do so.

—Can you serve as teachers to crown princes, great ministers, and senior officials and enable them to attain the Way?

He replied:

—We cannot.

—Can your master teach scholars, artisans, farmers, merchants, elders, the middle-aged, the young, men, and women, and enable them all to attain the Way?

He replied:

—He cannot.

—Did your master’s ancestors attain the Way?

He replied:

—I have not heard my master teach anything about this.

—Then which paths do you follow?

He replied:

—My master teaches that whoever observes the eight precepts will, upon death, be born in the Brahmā Heaven.

—Look among those of you who observe these eight precepts: has anyone been born in the Brahmā Heaven?

He replied:

—I have heard my master say that this is so.

The Buddha told A Bạt:

“My śramaṇas attain the fruit of the Worthy One, the arhat. They know births and deaths throughout past lives and can distinguish every person: ‘At that time, this was I; I came from there and became who I am now.’ They know the people of the world and the affairs of the heavens. They can fly from one place to another; if they wish to live, they live, and if they wish to die, they die.

They can cause heaven and earth to tremble and move Mount Sumeru back and forth without obstruction. They transform themselves at will. When their deceased parents have fallen into some realm, they know where they are, seek them out, instruct and guide them, and enable them to attain liberation.

When the children attain the Way, their parents are also delivered and liberated. Furthermore, my śramaṇas maintain right mindfulness as a single practice, observe the 250 precepts, and accomplish the unconditioned Way, nirvana.”

The Buddha told A Bạt:

“I renounced my kingdom and relinquished the royal throne to become a śramaṇa devoted to ending birth and death. I have now attained realization and become the Tathagata, the Most True, the Perfectly and Fully Awakened One, Perfect in Knowledge and Conduct, the Well-Gone One, Knower of the World, Unsurpassed One, Tamer through the Dharma of the Way, Teacher of Devas and Humans, the Buddha, the World-Honored One, and the teacher of devas and humans.

Of those who uphold my sutras and precepts, there is no one who does not attain the Way. I constantly teach and transform the world with a mind of loving-kindness, causing people to abandon evil and practice good. Good can be practiced continually, whereas evil cannot endure for long.

Suffering lasts a long time, while happiness is brief. Those who now indulge in sensual pleasures delight in them, but afterward must endure suffering for a long time. When one has committed offenses, the best course is to repent with utmost sincerity.”

At that time, A Bạt carefully observed the Buddha’s body and thought, “The Buddha is said to possess thirty-two marks, but there is one particular mark that I do not see. Why is this so?”

Knowing his thought, the Buddha immediately extended his tongue. First it touched his left ear, then his right ear, and then his hairline. He covered his entire face with his tongue and afterward slowly withdrew it.

A Bạt praised him, saying:

“A Buddha such as this is difficult to encounter even in ten thousand kalpas. How could one fail to recognize someone possessing such a mark of the tongue?”

The Buddha said:

“You have been here a long time. You should return and apologize to your teacher.”

All five hundred men came forward, bowed at the Buddha’s feet, and departed.

Phí Ca Sa was riding out in his carriage when he saw his disciples returning, so he stopped and waited for them. When the disciples arrived, they descended from their carriages and bowed respectfully. Their teacher asked:

“The fame of the śramaṇa Gautama resounds throughout the world. Does he truly possess those marks? Why did you remain there so long? What did the Buddha say?”

A Bạt replied:

“Of all the matters we discussed this morning, not one was left unaddressed. After we return home and have eaten, I shall relate everything at leisure.”

The teacher said:

“Could the Buddha not have kept you there for a meal?”

They replied:

“The Buddha was seated beneath a tree and had absolutely nothing at all. He knew that the mealtime had arrived, and therefore told us to return.”

After everyone returned and finished their meal, A Bạt recounted to his teacher in full all that the Buddha had said.

The teacher said:

“You have repeated the Buddha’s teaching without adding or omitting anything. Do you therefore wish me to venerate him?”

A Bạt replied:

“What the Buddha said surpasses the teachings of our brahmins. I fear only that our lineage may be unable to venerate him!”

The teacher immediately became angry, stamped his foot, and said:

“I have been a teacher for many lifetimes. How could I be inferior?”

A Bạt replied:

“Teacher, please go and see for yourself the Buddha’s wisdom and abilities.”

The teacher said:

“Then I must personally invite the Buddha here to converse with him. This evening, arrange tables and seats and prepare sufficient provisions for five hundred people.”

At cockcrow, the teacher personally went forth, announced his name and lineage, and requested an audience with the Buddha. After bowing to the Buddha, he sat to one side, joined his palms, and said:

“Today I have prepared a modest meal. I beseech the Buddha and the assembly of śramaṇas to condescend, through your spiritual majesty, to accept it.”

The Buddha silently accepted the invitation.

Delighted, Phí Ca Sa took his leave and returned to prepare the meal. Before noon, he again sent A Bạt to welcome the Buddha and the five hundred śramaṇas. They all arrived at his home and took their seats. He then invited them to eat and drink. After they had washed their hands, Phí Ca Sa asked the Buddha:

“Yesterday, A Bạt returned and recounted what the Buddha had taught. I do not know whether the Buddha might repeat it for me today.”

The Buddha said:

“Everything he related was without addition or omission.”

The Buddha then repeated all that he had said the previous day. Hearing the Buddha’s words, Phí Ca Sa rejoiced. He bowed down and said:

“Yesterday, I became angry without cause because of what A Bạt told me.”

The Buddha said:

“Although you became angry with this worthy disciple, he is like a fine horse skilled in discerning the intentions of human beings.”

The Buddha then bestowed a blessing upon A Bạt:

“May you live long and be free from illness.”

At that time, the teacher praised the Buddha, saying:

Fire illumines the darkness;

Rivers rule the sea and myriad ravines.

The sage instructs all beings,

As the waters have an enlightened sovereign.

The maṇi jewel is foremost;

The bright moon surpasses all stars.

Just as the sun shines everywhere,

Throughout the three realms, the Buddha is supreme.

The Buddha knew that his mind was gentle, upright, and free from perversity, and therefore spoke these verses:

People should practice benevolence and righteousness,

And give in charity to cultivate merit.

They must understand impermanence,

Uphold their practice, and observe the precepts and sutras.

The world is fraught with peril;

Its joys are few, but its sufferings many.

Each person must attend to their own life

And must not give way to indolence.

One should strive to eliminate craving and desire,

And every fearful accumulation,

Birth, old age, illness, and death,

Together with sorrow, grief, and weeping.

Those bound by affection must part;

All of this is suffering.

Therefore, all sages

Seek the path of liberation.

Having understood, Phí Ca Sa immediately rose, bowed at the Buddha’s feet, and said with tears:

“I recall that none of my ancestors knew the Buddha. I pray that the Buddha will have compassion. I have brothers, a wife and children, and a household. I now wish to bring them here so that they may receive the Buddhadharma.”

The Buddha said:

“You may do so!”

Everyone then bowed at the Buddha’s feet, took the Three Refuges, and, together with A Bạt and the others, undertook to observe the five precepts.

Later, Phí Ca Sa passed away. His disciples asked the Buddha:

“Our teacher has died. Where has he been reborn?”

The Buddha said:

“Your teacher attained the third fruit, that of a Non-returner. He has been reborn in the nineteenth heaven, among the Anāgāmins, and there he will attain parinirvana.”

A Bạt and all five hundred men wished to become śramaṇas. The Buddha said:

“You should each return home, carefully observe the five precepts, and establish your resolve firmly. Only then will you be able to renounce the household life.”

When the Buddha had finished teaching this sutra, everyone rejoiced greatly, bowed respectfully, and withdrew.

THE SUTRA SPOKEN BY THE BUDDHA ON THE BRAHMIN A BẠT