Priest Gyōhan was a first son of Fujiwara Chikaie. He was in charge of general affairs at the Imperial Palace, and he was a disciple of Jōki, the head priest of Senjuin Temple. Being gentle by nature, Gyōhan sought the Law, carefully recited the Hokekyō, became very familiar with the sūtra, and had no diffculty in reciting it by memory, except for the Chapter of the Yakuō.
He practiced reciting the chapter for several years. But he was unable to learn it by heart. He developed a repentant mind and prayed to the Three Treasures that he would be able to learn the chapter by heart.
One night he dreamed that a divine-looking priest said, “Due to the karmic result from your previous life, you are unable to learn this chapter. Formerly you were born as a black horse and lived with a Hokekyō reciter. From time to time, you heard the reciter repeating the Hokekyō, but you missed hearing the Chapter of the Yakuō. However, due to your merit in hearing the sūtra, you have become a human being in your present life, have entered Buddhahood, and have venerated the Hokekyō. Since you did not hear the Yakuō Chapter, you are still unable to learn the chapter. Disconnecting the cause and effect would be just as difficult as differentiating between the two horns of a cow. If you recite the sūtra well in your present life, you will be able to understand it clearly in your future life and will be greatly enlightened.”
Now the priest understood his karmic relation, cleared his clouded mind, developed greater faith in the Law, and recited the Hokekyō for days and nights. (Page 97-98)
Among all the Buddhist scriptures preached by the Buddha there is no sūtra which does not mention the trembling of the earth in six different ways. However, the shaking of the earth in six ways when the Buddha was about to expound the Lotus Sūtra was so striking that the living beings who gathered to listen to Him were all startled and it moved Bodhisattva Maitreya to ask what was happening, prompting Bodhisattva Mañjuśrī to answer. This shows that the omen for the preaching of the Lotus Sūtra was much greater and longer than the omens of other sūtras that the question concerning it was more difficult to respond to. Therefore, Grand Master Miao-lê states in his Annotations on the Words and Phrases of the Lotus Sūtra, fascicle 2, “Which Mahāyāna sūtra does not have the omens such as a crowd of living beings gathered together like a cloud, emitting of light from the forehead of the Buddha, the rain of flowers from the heaven, and trembling of the earth? However, they have never caused such a great concern as this.” This means that every sūtra has a preface before preaching the main discourse, but no preface is accompanied by such great omens like those that accompanied the preface of the Lotus Sūtra.
Zuisō Gosho, Writing on Omens, Writings of Nichiren Shōnin, Volume 6, Followers I, Page 122
To those who have accumulated merits,
And who are gentle and upright,
And who see me living here,
Expounding the Dharma,
I say:
“The duration of my life is immeasurable.”
The Buddha declares these verses in Chapter Sixteen of the Lotus Sūtra. This chapter is where the Buddha reveals for the first time his ever-present nature. He became enlightened in the remotest past, and will continue teaching all beings far into the future. There is a view that to see a Buddha in our time requires a supernatural way of seeing, even a personal vision or a revelation not available to ordinary people. What the Buddha teaches here is that he is always visible to anyone, anywhere. It is when we look for him to teach us and are compassionate and disciplined in our desires that he appears to us.
The Daily Dharma is produced by the Lexington Nichiren Buddhist Community. To subscribe to the daily emails, visit zenzaizenzai.com
I’m sitting in the waiting area for Gate A5 at the Seattle-Tacoma Airport waiting for the next leg of my trip from Sacramento. I’ve got another two hours to kill before boarding red-eye flight to Detroit. I have a “Honey-Do” harvest awaiting me in Churchville, NY.
Yesterday I was working at the Sacramento Nichiren Buddhist Church replacing a corrugated metal roof that covers a flat portion of the “chicken shed” where the teriyaki chicken will be cooked at the church bazaar June 8-9. The 30-year roof had rusted through at several points.
Rev. Igarashi was helping me as I nailed down the metal roof sections.
At one point the topic of discussion turned to Mother’s Day, and Rev. Igarashi said it wasn’t celebrated in Japan.
I digress at this point to mention that I chatted at church today, Mother’s Day, with a young woman born and raised in Hiroshima who now lives in Sacramento, and she said she always celebrates Mother’s Day, buying flowers.
So, whatever the case in Japan, Mother’s Day wasn’t something Rev. Igarashi adopted. And after reading the Nihon ryōiki, I’m happy to believe that in a traditional household Mother’s Day isn’t restricted to a single day.
All of which provides me an opportunity to reprint a Nihon ryōiki story:
On an Evil Man Who was Negligent in Filial Piety to His Mother and Gained an Immediate Penalty of Violent Death
In Sou upper district, Yamato province there once lived a wicked man whose identity is lost except for his nickname, Miyasu. In the reign of the emperor residing at the Palace of Naniwa, he became a student of the Confucian classics, but he attained merely book knowledge and did not support his mother.
His mother had borrowed rice from him and could not return it. Miyasu angrily pressed his mother for payment. His friends, who could no longer endure the sight of the mother seated on the ground while the son sat on a mat, asked him, “Good man, why are you not respectful? Some people build pagodas, make Buddha images, copy scriptures, and invite monks to a retreat for their parents’ sake. You are rich and fortunate enough to lend much rice. Why do you neglect your dear mother and contradict what you have studied?” Miyasu ignored them, saying, “That’s none of your business.” Whereupon they paid the debt on her behalf and hurried away.
His mother, for her part, bared her breasts and, in tears, said to her son, “When I reared you, I never rested day or night. I have seen people repaying their parents for their affection, but, when I thought I could rely on my son, I incurred only disgrace. I was wrong in relying upon you. Since you have pressed me for repayment of the rice, I will now demand repayment of my milk. The mother-child tie is from this day broken. Heaven and earth will take cognizance of this. How sad, how pitiful! ”
Without a word Miyasu stood up, went into the back room, and, returning with the bonds, burnt them all in the yard. Then he went into the mountains where he wandered about not knowing what to do, ran wildly this way and that with disheveled hair and a bleeding body, and could not stay in his home. Three days later a fire broke out suddenly, and all of his houses and storehouses in and out of the premises burned. Eventually Miyasu turned his family into the streets, and he himself died of hunger and cold without any shelter.
Now we cannot help believing that a penalty will be imposed, not in the distant future, but in this life. Accordingly, a scripture says, “The unfilial are destined to hell; the filial, to the pure land.” This is what Nyorai preaches, the true teaching of Mahayana tradition. (Page 135-136)
This is the first collection of Buddhist legends in Japan, and these stories form the repertoire of miraculous events and moral examples that later Buddhist priests used for preaching to the people. As Kyokai describes his own intentions, “By editing these stories of miraculous events I want to pull the people forward by the ears, offer my hand to lead them to good, and show them how to cleanse their feet of evil” (p.222).
Nakamura’s book is actually two works in one: first an introduction to the Nihon ryōiki, and then an annotated translation. The introduction analyzes the life of the author and the influence of earlier writings, and provides a valuable synthesis of the world view reflected in the work.
The annotated translation renders the more than one hundred stories into English narrative, with copious notes. Difficult terms are identified in the text with the original Chinese characters, while historical matters and Buddhist technical terms are explained in the footnotes.
The translator and editor of this edition, Kyoko Motomochi Nakamura, offers this concept of “miracles” at the conclusion of his preface:
If miracles are narrowly defined as the intervention of the divine which is designed to suspend or change the law of nature, then wondrous occurrences in the Buddhist tradition are not miracles, but the work of karma (1.26). As a consequence of past karma, man becomes a sage, holy man, bodhisattva, or buddha, and attains self-mastery. To the popular imagination, however, wonders held such appeal that they served as signs to invite men through the gate along the path toward enlightenment. (Page 91)
The Nihon ryōiki is a collection of stories gathered by a monk named Kyōkai. The Nihon ryōiki, according to Nakamura, was compiled either in 782-805 or 810-824. Theories differ, but one important aspect is that at the time when this book was compiled Japanese Buddhism was in a transition away from nonsectarian “Buddhist institutes for the study of several different doctrines” toward a growing sectarian consciousness “in response to the challenge of the new Buddhist teachings introduced by Saichō (767-822) and Kūkai (744-835)” (Page 4).
Kyōkai’s Preface of Volume One offers this view of Good and Evil:
Good and evil deeds cause karmic retribution as a figure causes its shadow, and suffering and pleasure follow such deeds as an echo follows a sound in the valley. Those who witness such experiences marvel at them and forget they are real happenings in the world. The penitent withdraws to hide himself, for he burns with shame at once. Were the fact of karmic retribution not known, how could we rectify wickedness and establish righteousness? And how would it be possible to make men mend their wicked minds and practice the path of virtue without demonstrating the law of karmic causation? (Page 101)
And later in discussing his own limitations:
I am not gifted with either wisdom or lucidity. Learning acquired in a narrow well loses its way when out in the open. My work resembles that of a poor craftsman working on the carving of a master. I am afraid that I will cut my hand and suffer from the injury long afterward. My work is comparable to a rough pebble beside the K’un-lun Mountains. Its source in the oral tradition is so indistinct that I am afraid of omitting much. Only the desire to do good has moved me to try, in spite of the fear that this might turn out to be a presumptuous work by an incompetent author. I hope that learned men in future generations will not laugh at my efforts, and I pray that those who happen upon this collection of miraculous stories will put aside evil, live in righteousness, and, without causing evil, practice good. (Page 101-102)
From the Kyōkai’s Preface to Volume III, the three periods of Śākyamuni’s teachings:
The Inner Scriptures show how good and evil deeds are repaid, while the Outer Writings show how good and bad fortunes bring merit and demerit. If we study all the discourses Śākyamuni made during his lifetime, we learn that there are three periods: first, the period of the true dharma (shōbō), which lasts five hundred years; second, the period of the counterfeit dharma (zōbō), lasting a thousand years; and third, the period of the degenerate dharma (mappō), which continues for ten thousand years. By the fourth year of the hare, the sixth year of the Enryaku era [787], seventeen hundred and twenty-two years have passed since Buddha entered nirvana. Accordingly, we live in the age of the degenerate dharma following the first two periods. Now in Japan, by the sixth year of the Enryaku era, two hundred and thirty-six years have elapsed since the arrival of the Buddha, Dharma, and Samgha [538 or 553]. Flowers bloom without voice, and cocks cry without tears. In the present world those who practice good are as few as flowers on rocky hills, but those who do evil are as plentiful as weeds in the soil. Without knowing the law of karmic retribution, one offends as easily as a blind man loses his way. A tiger is known by its tail. Those devoted to fame, profit, and killing doubt the immediate repayment of good and evil which occurs as quickly as a mirror reflects. One who is possessed of an evil spirit is like one who holds a poisonous snake; the poison is always there ready to appear.
The great power of karmic retribution reaches us as quickly as sound echoes in a valley. If we call, the echo never fails to answer, and this is the way karmic retribution works in this life. How can we fail to be more careful? It is useless to repent after spending a lifetime in vain. Who can enjoy immortality since you are given a limited life? How can you depend on your transient life as being eternal? We are already in the age of the degenerate dharma. How can we live without doing good? My heart aches for all beings. How can we be saved from calamity in the age of the degenerate dharma? If we offer monks only a handful of food, the merit of our good deed will save us from the calamity of hunger. If we keep a precept of nonkilling for a day, we will be saved from the calamity of sword and battle. (Page 221-222)
He follows with an example of how karma works:
Once there was a full-fledged monk who lived on a mountain and practiced meditation. At every meal he shared his food with a crow which came to him every day. After a vegetarian meal, he chewed a toothpick, cleaned his mouth, washed his hands and played with a stone. The crow was behind the hedge when he threw the stone. He hit the crow without knowing that it was there. The crow died on the spot, its head crushed into pieces, and was reborn as a boar. The boar lived in the same mountain as the monk. It happened to go to the place above his hut, rooting about among the rocks for food, where upon one of the rocks rolled down and killed the monk. Although the boar had no intention of killing him, the rock rolled down by itself. A sin committed by an action which is neither good nor bad will in turn generate the same kind of action. In the case of intentional murder, how is it possible to escape the penalty? A deluded mind produces the seed and fruit of evil; an enlightened mind produces the seed of good to attain Buddhahood. (Page 222)
Having last month concluded Chapter 20, Never-Despising Bodhisattva, we witness the vow of the Bodhisattvas who sprang up from underground.
Thereupon the Bodhisattva-mahāsattvas as many as the particles of dust of one thousand worlds, who had sprung up from underground, joined their hands together towards the Buddha with all their hearts, looked up at his honorable face, and said to him:
“World-Honored One! After your extinction, we will expound this sūtra in the worlds of the Buddhas of your replicas and also in the place from which you will pass away. Why is that? It is because we also wish to obtain this true, pure and great Dharma, to keep, read, recite, expound and copy [this sūtra], and to make offerings to it.”
An unidentified priest lived at the Tadain Temple at Teshima in Settsu Province. After he had lived several decades, he devoted himself to the Hokekyō, reciting it single-mindedly and practicing the Three Deeds. He had passed many years in the mountains engaged in ascetic practices. A certain layman much appreciated and venerated this devout priest and served him faithfully.
One day the layman fell ill during an epidemic and finally died. He was laid in a coffin which was placed in a treetop. Five days later, however, he revived, got out of the coffin, and returned home.
At his house, the layman told his wife and children about the Land After Death:
“King Yama took out a ledger, examined the tablets of my life’s conduct and said, ‘Since you have been very sinful, you should be sent to hell. However, I will pardon you by extending your life span and let you go home. This is because you have devoutly venerated the reciter of the Hokekyō for all these years. As a result of this merit, you will be released from here. After returning home, venerate the Hokekyō reciter. This will be more appreciated than venerating many Buddhas during the three periods of time, and your virtue will excel all other merits.
“After hearing King Yama’s admonishment, I left his office and returned to this world. On my way home I saw some ten stupas, all of them finely decorated with seven jewels, risen of their own accord in a mountain field.
“The priest, whom I have venerated all these years, sat facing these adorned stupas. He breathed flames from his mouth and burned them all down. Next, I heard a voice in the sky which said to me, “You should know that these stupas appeared as the priest recited the Chapter of the Apparition of the Stupa in the Hokekyō. But he has angrily scolded and abused his disciples and followers. The violent flames of his anger flared out from his mouth and burned down those stupas. If the reciter had controlled his anger and recited the sūtra, the jeweled stupas undoubtedly would have filled this world. Tell this to your priest!’ ”
All those who heard the layman’s story, his wife and children, relatives, followers and all his neighbors, thought it most unusual. The layman went to the priest and told him what had happened in the Land After Death.
The priest listened to his story, regretted and repented of his deeds, left his people and the ignorant crowd, and lived alone, reciting the Hokekyō singlehandedly. Ten years later he finally passed away without any sickness while sitting in a posture of meditation. (Page 58-59)
One important concept to keep in mind, which I think is very difficult in our modern materialistic society, is the thought that all things are impermanent and insubstantial. It is easy to be lead astray and think that things are important and will last indefinitely, when in fact no thing will remain unchanged forever.
It is said in the Lotus Sūtra, fascicle 5 (chapter 14): “This Lotus Sūtra is the secret treasure of all Buddhas. It is supreme of all sūtras.” Please note that “it is supreme of all sūtras.” According to this sūtra, therefore, he who insists that the Lotus Sūtra is supreme of all sūtras is a true practicer of the Lotus Sūtra, isn’t he? Nevertheless, many who are revered in the land insist that there are sūtras superior to the Lotus. Standing against these monks, who are revered by the king and his subjects, the practicer of the Lotus Sūtra is poor and powerless, with all the people in the land despising him. Under such circumstances, if he points out their sin of slandering the True Dharma as stubbornly as Never Despising Bodhisattva or as decisively as Commentator Bhadraruci defeated Brahman, the Boaster, his life will be in jeopardy. This seems of prime importance. This fits me, Nichiren.
Senji-shō, Selecting the Right time: A Tract by Nichiren, the Buddha’s Disciple, Writings of Nichiren Shōnin, Doctrine 1, Page 250-251
I attained perfect enlightenment and now save all living beings because Devadatta was my teacher.
The Buddha makes this declaration in Chapter Twelve of the Lotus Sūtra. Devadatta was a cousin of the Buddha who became jealous of the Buddha’s enlightenment. Several times he tried to kill the Buddha. He also caused a split in the Buddha’s Sangha, and convinced a young prince to kill his father and usurp the throne. Devadatta was so evil that he fell into Hell alive. Despite all this, the Buddha credits Devadatta with helping him become enlightened, and assures Devadatta personally that he will become enlightened. This shows us that even those beings who create great harm have Buddha nature. They may not deserve our admiration, but they at least deserve our respect.
The Daily Dharma is produced by the Lexington Nichiren Buddhist Community. To subscribe to the daily emails, visit zenzaizenzai.com