Category Archives: Blog

Higan: The Art of Giving

Today is the first day of Higan week, the three days before the equinox and the three days after. As explained in a Nichiren Shu brochure:

For Buddhists, this period is not just one characterized by days with almost equal portions of light and dark. Rather, it is a period in which we strive to consciously reflect upon ourselves and our deeds.

The today we consider the Perfection of Generosity. For this I want to return to Jan Nattier’s translation of the “The Inquiry of Ugra,” an early Mahayana sutra that discusses the householder’s Bodhisattva practices and the practices of the renunciant Bodhisattva.

“Moreover, O Eminent Householder, by living at home, the householder bodhisattva should accomplish a great deal of giving, discipline, self-restraint, and gentleness of character. He should reflect as follows: ‘What I give away is mine; what I keep at home is not mine. What I give away has substance; what I keep at home has no substance. What I give away will bring pleasure at another [i.e., future] time; what I keep at home will [only] bring pleasure right now. What I give away does not need to be protected; what I keep at home must be protected. [My] desire for what I give away will [eventually] be exhausted; [my] desire for what I keep at home increases. What I give away I do not think of as “mine”; what I keep at home I think of as “mine.” What I give away is no longer an object of grasping; what I keep at home is an object of grasping. What I give away is not a source of fear; what I keep at home causes fear. What I give away supports the path to bodhi; what I keep at home supports the party of Māra.

“What I give away knows no exhaustion; what I keep at home is exhausted. What I give away is pleasurable; what I keep at home is painful, because it must be protected. What I give away leads to the abandoning of the corruptions; what I keep at home will cause the corruptions to increase. What I give away will yield great enjoyment; what I keep at home will not yield great enjoyment. Giving things away is the deed of a good man; keeping things at home is the deed of a lowly man. What I give away is praised by all the Buddhas; what I keep at home is praised by foolish people.’ Thus he should reflect. O Eminent Householder, in that way the bodhisattva should ‘extract the substance’ [from the insubstantial].

A Few Good Men, p240-241

An Historian’s View of the Tatsunokuchi Persecution

The Danforth Lecture in the Study of Religion featuring Jacqueline Stone, Professor Emerita, recorded Nov. 30, 2023

The Priest Nichiren’s Miraculous Escape from Death and Its Modern Skeptics: Negotiating History and Myth in a Japanese Buddhist Tradition

In the year 1271, the dissident Buddhist teacher Nichiren was arrested by officials of Japan’s warrior government and taken under cover of night to the execution grounds. Tradition holds that his attempted beheading was foiled when a luminous object suddenly shot across the sky, terrifying his would-be executioners. For more than seven hundred years, this dramatic episode has been celebrated in hagiographies, paintings, kabuki plays, woodblock prints, novels, and manga. In recent times, however, its historicity has been questioned; naturalistic explanations for the “luminous object” have also been proposed. These responses invite reflection on the hermeneutic shifts that occur when religious accounts of miraculous events are assessed by modern critical and scientific standards. They also raise challenging questions about what responsibility the historian of religion bears in analyzing a tradition’s foundational narratives.


The original video with the introductions and Q&A session is available here.

Why the Buddha Teaches

In the Sutra of Innumerable Meanings, the first chapter is my favorite. First is the description of how Bodhisattvas turn the wheel of the Dharma:

They are able, moreover, to clearly perceive conditioned desires of the senses. By means of Dharma-grasping empowerments (dhāraṇīs), and with unlimited facility of eloquence, they call upon the Buddha to turn a wheel of the Dharma; emulating him, they are able to turn it as well. They first bring it down in tiny drops that dissolve the dirt of delusive passions. They open nirvana’s gates and fan winds of emancipation—dispelling the world’s fevers and trials with the cool refreshment of the Dharma. Next, raining down the deeply profound twelve-linked chain of dependent origination (pratītyasamutpāda), they drench the intense solar fires of assembled sufferings of ignorance, illness, aging, and death. Then, pouring the supreme Great Vehicle to overflowing, they immerse and soak the various roots of goodness that living beings possess, cast seeds of goodness widely over fields of beneficial effects, and inspire all beings everywhere to germinate the sprout of enlightenment.

But more important is the revelation of our role – the role of those who are suffering – in encouraging the Buddha to return and teach after his attainment of enlightenment:

Great One! Most Venerable Fully Awakened Master!
You are without stain, contamination, or attachment!
Nurturer of human and heavenly beings!
Tamer of elephants and horses!
You infuse the fragrance of virtue into all things by means of the winds of the Way!
You are serene in wisdom, calm in emotion, composed in deep reflection,
And—volition extinguished, discriminations set aside—likewise tranquil in mind.
You have forever cast away delusive ideas, reflections, and thoughts—
No more to become entangled in all the facets of existence.

What you embody is not existing, and yet not nonexistent;
Is neither direct nor indirect cause; has no sense of self or other;
Is neither square nor round; is not brief or long;
Neither appears nor disappears; is without origination or cessation;
Is neither created nor self-arisen, nor is it produced;
Neither sits nor lies down; does not walk or stand; Neither moves nor turns; is not static or idle;
Neither advances nor retreats; is not imperiled or secure;
Neither is, nor is not; has no gain or loss;
Is neither here nor there; does not come or go;
Is neither blue nor yellow; is not red or white;
Is not crimson, is not purple or multicolored;
Comes forth from the perfection of behavioral principles, concentration, discernment, emancipation, and perspective that pertains to emancipation;
Rises from three kinds of transcendent knowledge, the six transcendent powers, and the avenues to enlightenment;
Emanates from kindness, compassion, ten capabilities, and dauntlessness;
And emerges according to the good karmic actions of living beings.

I was deeply disappointed with Rissho Kōsei-kai’s “modern” translation of this sutra, which changed that last line to read:

And he comes forth as a result of his good karma as a living being.”

I wrote about this two years ago. What brings this up now is something I read in “The History of Buddhism in India and Tibet,” which was written by the 14th century Tibetan scholar Bu-ston and translated into English by Eugene Obermiller in 1932.

Now, (in reality) the Lord, having extirpated the force which calls forth speech, has attained Enlightenment in perfect silence and then, up to the time of his attaining Nirvāṇa, has not uttered a single word. But, in accordance with the thoughts (and the needs) of the living beings, he appears as if teaching (the Doctrine) in various forms, as it is said:

A cymbal on a magic circle
Issues its sounds, being agitated by the wind,
And although there is nothing with which it is beaten,
Its sound is nevertheless heard.
Similar is the voice of the Buddha which arises,
Being called forth by the thoughts of the living beings,
And owing to their previous virtuous deeds.
But the Buddha (himself) has no constructive thought
(By which his words could be conditioned).

The voice of the Buddha is therefore something inconceivable for our mind.

The Teacher has thus perceived the living beings subjected to suffering, being obscured by the pellicule of ignorance, tied by the knot of egocentristic views, suppressed by the mountain of pride, consumed by the fire of desire, wounded by the weapons of hatred, cast into the wilderness of Saṃsāra, and unable to cross the streams of birth, old age, illness, and death. And, in order to deliver them (from this suffering), from between his teeth resembling a beautiful sonant conch-shell, he stretched forth his tongue endowed with miraculous power, ejected his voice, similar to that of Brahma, and thus expounded the whole of the Doctrine.

Putting the two descriptions together: The Buddha emerges according to the good karmic actions of living beings, being called forth by the thoughts of the living beings and owing to their previous virtuous deeds.

Pratyekabuddhas Before Śākyamuni

In commenting on A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, I noted that the Chinese Mahāyāna monk Fa-hien noticed stupas dedicated to past pratyekabuddhas during his 5th century tour of India. James Legge, the Cambridge scholar who translated Fa-hien’s account into English in 1886, said the presence of the stupas dedicated to pratyekabuddhas was evidence that these pratyekabuddhas were known to primitive Buddhism, something other Western scholars had questioned.

Recently I’ve been reading “The History of Buddhism in India and Tibet,” which was written by the 14th century Tibetan scholar Bu-ston and translated into English by Eugene Obermiller in 1932.

Note this explanation of what became of the Pratyekabuddhas:

Twelve years before the Bodhisattva was to enter (his mother’s) womb, the sons of the gods belonging to the Pure Region, having miraculously assumed the form of Brāhmaṇas, proclaimed aloud that if (the Bodhisattva) would be conceived in the womb —in the way that is to be described below — he would become a universal monarch or a Buddha, endowed with the characteristic features and marks (of the super-man)! And (other similar gods) addressed the Pratyekabuddhas (in Jambudvipa) as follows: “In 12 years the Bodhisattva will become conceived in the womb; therefore you must abandon this land (since there is nothing more for you to do here).” This was heard by the Pratyekabuddha Mātaṅga, who was abiding on the hill Golāṅgulaparivartana, near Rājagṛha, and he passed away into Nirvāṇa, having left his footprints on a stone. At Vārāṇasi, 500 Pratyekabuddhas gave themselves up to the element of fire. And, after (they were consumed and) had passed away, their ashes fell (on the earth). Thence from that place received the name of Ṛṣipatana, “the place where the Sages fell.”

The History of Buddhism in India and Tibet, page 1

Were these the Pratyekabuddhas honored by the stupas Fa-hien visited? If so, does that mean Pratyekabuddhas only exist in places where no Buddha exists?

Odds and Ends from A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms

James Legge’s translation of the Chinese monk Fa-hien’s “A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms” has a number of tidbits that I want to highlight.

A month after the (annual season of) rest, the families which are looking out for blessing stimulate one another to make offerings to the monks, and send round to them the liquid food which may be taken out of the ordinary hours. All the monks come together in a great assembly, and preach the Law; after which offerings are presented at the [stupa] of Śāriputra, with all kinds of flowers and incense. All through the night lamps are kept burning, and skillful musicians are employed to perform.

When Śāriputra was a great Brahman, he went to Buddha, and begged (to be permitted) to quit his family (and become a monk). The great Mugalan and the great Kaśyapa also did the same. The bhikshunis for the most part make their offerings at the [stupa] of Ananda, because it was he who requested the World-honored one to allow females to quit their families (and become nuns). The Śramaṇeras mostly make their offerings to Rāhula. The professors of the Abhidharma make their offerings to it; those of the Vinaya to it. Every year there is one such offering, and each class has its own day for it. Students of the Mahāyāna present offerings to the Prajña-pāramitā, to Mañjuśrī and to Kwan-she-yin.

Legge offers this explanation of Kwan-she-yin:

Kwan-she-yin and the dogmas about him or her are as great a mystery as Mañjuśrī. The Chinese name is a mistranslation of the Sanskrit name Avalokiteśvara, ‘On-looking Sovereign,’ or even ‘On-looking Self-Existent,’ and means Regarding or looking on the Bounds of the world,’ = ‘Hearer of Prayer.’ Originally, and still in Thibet, Avalokiteśvara had only male attributes, but in China and Japan (Kwannon), this deity (such popularly she is) is represented as a woman, “Kwan-yin, the greatly gentle, with a thousand arms and a thousand eyes;” and has her principal seat in the island of P’oo-t’oo, on the China coast, which is a regular place of pilgrimage. To the worshippers of whom Fā-hien speaks, Kwan-she-yin would only be Avalokiteśvara. How he was converted into the ‘goddess of mercy,’ and her worship took the place which it now has in China, is a difficult inquiry, which would take much time and space, and not brought after all, so far as I see, to a satisfactory conclusion. … I was talking on the subject once with an intelligent Chinese gentleman, when he remarked, ‘Have you not much the same thing in Europe in worship of Mary?’

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p40-47

Here’s Fa-hien explanation of Ānanda’s parinirvāṇa:

Four yojanas on from this place to the east brought the travelers to the confluence of the five rivers. When Ānanda was going from Magadha to Vaiśāli, wishing his parinirvāṇa to take place (there) the devas informed king Ajātaśatru of it, and the king immediately pursued him, in his own grand carriage, with a body of soldiers, and had reached the river. (On the other hand), the Lichchhavis of Vaiśāli had heard that Ananda was coming (to their city), and they on their part came to him. (In this way), they all arrived together at the river, and Ānanda considered that, if he went forward, king Ajātaśatru would be angry, while, if he went back, the Lichchhavis would resent his conduct. He thereupon in the very middle of the river burnt his body in an ecstasy of Samādhi, and his parinirvāṇa was attained. He divided his body (also) into two, (leaving) the half of it on each bank; so that each of the two kings got one half as a (sacred) relic, and took it back (to his own capital), and there raised a tope over it.

Legge’s note makes an effort to explain this burning Samādhi

Eitel has a long article (pp. 114-115) on the meaning of Samādhi, which is one of the seven sections of wisdom (bodhyanga). Hardy defines it as meaning ‘perfect tranquility;’ Turnour, as ‘meditative abstraction;’ Burnouf, as ‘self-control;’ and Edkins, as ‘ecstatic reverie.’ ‘Samadhi,’ says Eitel, ‘signifies the highest pitch of abstract, ecstatic meditation; a state of absolute indifference to all influences from within or without; a state of torpor of both the material and spiritual forces of vitality; a sort of terrestrial nirvāṇa, consistently culminating in total destruction of life.’ He then quotes apparently the language of the text, ‘He consumed his body by Agni (the fire of) Samādhi,’ and says it is ‘a common expression for the effects of such ecstatic, ultra-mystic self-annihilation.’ All this is simply ‘a darkening of counsel by words without knowledge.’ Some facts concerning the death of Ānanda are hidden beneath the darkness of the phraseology, which it is impossible for us to ascertain. By or in Samādhi he burns his body in the very middle of the river, and then he divides the relic of the burnt body into two parts (for so evidently Fā-hien intended his narration to be taken), and leaves one half on each bank. The account of Ananda’s death in Nien-ch’ang’s ‘History of Buddha and the Patriarchs’ is much more extravagant. Crowds of men and devas are brought together to witness it. The body is divided into four parts. One is conveyed the Tushita heaven; a second, to the palace of a certain Naga king; a third is given to Ajātaśatru; and the fourth to the Lichchhavis. What it all really means I cannot tell.

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p75-77

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms

legge-record-of-buddhistic-kingdomsIn 399 CE, a Chinese Mahāyāna monk named Fa-hien set out for India to find a complete copy of the Vinaya, the rules and precepts for fully ordained monks.

After Fa-hien set out from Ch’ang-gan, it took him six years to reach Central India; stoppages there extended over [another] six years; and on his return it took him three years to reach Ts’ing-chow [China].

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p115-116

After his trip, Fa-hien wrote a book about what he saw. Fa-hien’s book was translated into English by James Legge (1815-1897). Legge, at the time he published his translation in 1886, was professor of Chinese studies at Oxford University. Throughout the book, Legge offers extensive notes explaining for his Western audience the background and meaning of what Fa-hien saw in his travels.

From Legge’s Introduction:

Nothing of great importance is known about Fa-hien in addition to what may be gathered from his own record of his travels. I have read the accounts of him in the ‘Memoirs of Eminent Monks,’ compiled in A.D. 519, and a later work, the ‘Memoirs of Marvelous Monks,’ by the third emperor of the Ming dynasty (A.D. 1403-1424), which, however, is nearly all borrowed from the other; and all in them that has an appearance of verisimilitude can be brought within brief compass.

His surname, they tell us, was Kung, and he was a native of Wu-yang in P’ing-yang, which is still the name of a large department in Shan-hsi. He had three brothers older than himself; but when they all died before shedding their first teeth, his father devoted him to the service of the Buddhist society, and had him entered as a śramaṇera, still keeping him at home in the family. The little fellow fell dangerously ill, and the father sent him to the monastery, where he soon got well and refused to return to his parents.

When he was ten years old, his father died; and an uncle, considering the widowed solitariness and helplessness of the mother, urged him to renounce the monastic life, and return to her, but the boy replied, ‘I did not quit the family in compliance with my father’s wishes, but because I wished to be far from the dust and vulgar ways of life. This is why I choose monkhood.’ The uncle approved of his words and gave over urging him. When his mother also died, it appeared how great had been the affection for her of his fine nature; but after her burial he returned to the monastery.

On one occasion he was cutting rice with a score or two of his fellow disciples when some hungry thieves came upon them to take away their grain by force. The other śramaṇeras all fled, but our young hero stood his ground, and said to the thieves, “If you must have the grain, take what you please. But, Sirs, it was your former neglect of charity which brought you to your present state of destitution; and now, again, you wish to rob others. I am afraid that in the coming age you will have still greater poverty and distress. I am sorry for you beforehand.” With these words he followed his companions to the monastery, while the thieves left the grain and went away, all the monks, of whom there were several hundred, doing homage to his conduct and courage.

When he had finished his noviciate and taken on him the obligations of the full Buddhist orders, his earnest courage, clear intelligence, and strict regulation of his demeanor were conspicuous; and soon after, he undertook his journey to India in search of complete copy of the Vinaya-piṭaka. What follows this is merely an account of his travels in India and return to China by sea, condensed from his own narrative, with the addition of some marvelous incidents that happened to him, on his visit to the Vulture Peak near Rājagṛha.

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p1-2

The book offers a fascinating look at Buddhist life and practice at the start of the fifth century. Keep in mind, that at the same time Fa-hien was exploring India, Kumārajīva was busy translating the Lotus Sutra into Chinese.

Several things Fa-hien witnessed were of particular interest to me. For example, having recently finished Jan Nattier’s “A Few Good Men: The Bodhisattva Path according to The Inquiry of Ugra,” it was interesting to note that some Buddhist communities that Fa-hien encountered included both Mahāyāna and Hinayāna monks, while others were strictly Hinayāna or Mahāyāna. In The Inquiry of Ugra the Mahāyāna Bodhisattva path was not a separate teaching but just one of the vehicles available to renunciants. Centuries later, Fa-hien finds evidence of a separation of the Mahāyāna and Hinayāna schools, while still finding areas where they practiced together.

I also found the topic of Pratyeka buddhas fascinating. In the Lotus Sutra, we hear of people seeking Pratyekabuddhahood, one of the three provisional vehicles, but nothing about someone actually attaining this goal.

Fa-hien witnessed:

At this place there are as many as a thousand topes of Arhans and Pratyeka Buddhas.

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p40

Topes is another word for stupas. Legge offers this note about Pratyeka Buddhas:

In Singhalese, Pasê Buddhas; called also Nidâna Buddhas, and Pratyeka Jinas, and explained by ‘individually intelligent,’ ‘completely intelligent,’ ‘intelligent as regards the nidânas.’ This, says Eitel (pp. 96, 97), is ‘a degree of saintship unknown to primitive Buddhism, denoting automats in ascetic life who attain to Buddhaship “individually,” that is, without a teacher, and without being able to save others. As the ideal hermit, the Pratyeka Buddha is compared with the rhinoceros (khadga) that lives lonely in the wilderness. He is also called Nidâna Buddha, as having mastered the twelve nidânas (the twelve links in the everlasting chain of cause and effect in the whole range of existence, the understanding of which solves the riddle of life, revealing the inanity of all forms of existence, and preparing the mind for nirvāṇa). He is also compared to a horse, which, crossing a river, almost buries its body under the water, without, however, touching the bottom of the river. Thus in crossing saṃsāra he suppresses the errors of life and thought, and the effects of habit and passion, without attaining to absolute perfection.” ‘ Whether these Buddhas were unknown, as Eitel says, to primitive Buddhism, may be doubted.

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p40

Underscore “without being able to save others,” which tells you all you need to know about Pratyeka buddhas.

(See Pratyekabuddhas Before Śākyamuni)

Legge, who came to China as a Christian missionary, is mostly supportive of Buddhism, but takes offense at Fa-hien’s tale of a monk who attained parinirvāṇa by cutting his own throat.

[At a distance of 50 paces from the rock dwelling of Devadatta] is a large, square black rock. Formerly there was a bhikṣu who, as he walked backwards and forwards upon it, thought with himself: ‘This body is impermanent, a thing of bitterness and vanity, and which cannot be looked on as pure. I am weary of this body, troubled by it as an evil.’ With this he grasped a knife and was about to kill himself. But he thought again: ‘The World-honored one laid down a prohibition against one’s killing himself.’ Further it occurred to him: ‘Yes, he did; but I now only wish to kill three poisonous thieves.’ Immediately with the knife he cut his throat. With the first gash into the flesh he attained the state of a Srotaāpanna; when he had gone half through, he attained to be an Anāgāmin; and when he had cut right through, he was an Arhat, and attained to parinirvāṇa; (and died).

Legge responds in a note:

Our author expresses no opinion of his own on the act of this bhikshu. Must it not have been a good act, when it was attended, in the very act of performance, by such blessed consequences? But if Buddhism had not something better to show than what appears here, it would not attract the interest which it now does. The bhikshu was evidently rather out of his mind; and the verdict of a coroner’s inquest of this nineteenth century would have pronounced that he killed himself ‘in a fit of insanity.’

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p86

Not everything Fa-hien saw in India accorded with traditional Buddhism.

In this Middle Kingdom there are ninety-six sorts of views, erroneous and different from our system, all of which recognize this world and the future world (and the connection between them). Each has its multitude of followers, and they all beg their food: only they do not carry the alms-bowl. They also, moreover, seek (to acquire) the blessing (of good deeds) on unfrequented ways, setting up on the roadside houses of charity, where rooms, couches, beds, and food and drink are supplied to travelers, and also to monks, coming and going as guests, the only difference being in the time (for which those parties remain).

There are also companies of the followers of Devadatta still existing. They regularly make offerings to the three previous Buddhas, but not to Śākyamuni Buddha.

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p61-62

I’ll end here with Fa-hien’s tale of the woman who accused the Buddha of having gotten her pregnant.

Outside the east gate of the Jetavana, at a distance of seventy paces to the north, on the west of the road, Buddha held a discussion with the (advocates of the) ninety-six schemes of erroneous doctrine, when the king and his great officers, the householders, and people were all assembled in crowds to hear it. Then a woman belonging to one of the erroneous systems, by name Chañchamana, prompted by the envious hatred in her heart, and having put on (extra) clothes in front of her person, so as to give her the appearance of being with child, falsely accused Buddha before all the assembly of having acted unlawfully (towards her). On this, Śakra, Ruler of Devas, changed himself and some devas into white mice, which bit through the strings about her waist; and when this was done, the (extra) clothes which she wore dropt down on the ground. The earth at the same time was rent, and she went (down) alive into hell. (This) also is the place where Devadatta, trying with empoisoned claws to injure Buddha, went down alive into hell. Men subsequently set up marks to distinguish where both these events took place.

A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms, p59-60

A Few Good Men Living in the Wilderness

The bodhisattvas of The Inquiry of Ugra are uniformly wilderness dwellers, only occasionally visiting the greater sangha in order to hear the Dharma.

In discussing the virtues of dwelling in the wilderness, The Inquiry of Ugra offers this:

“O Eminent Householder, if one asks what is the renunciant bodhisattva’s śramaṇa-aim, it is the following: it is mindfulness and clear consciousness, being undistracted, attaining the dhārāṇis, not being satisfied with what he has learned, having attained eloquence in speech, relying on loving-kindness and compassion, having mastery of the paranormal powers, fulfilling the cultivation of the six perfections, not abandoning the spirit of Omniscience, cultivating the knowledge of skillful means, maturing sentient beings, not abandoning the four means of attraction, being mindful of the six kinds of remembrance, not discarding learning and exertion, properly analyzing the dharmas, exerting oneself in order to attain right liberation, knowing the attainments of the fruit, dwelling in the state of having entered into a fixed course, and protecting the True Dharma.

“It is having right view, by having confidence in the maturing of deeds; having right intention, which consists in the cutting off of all discursive and divisive thought; having right speech, which consists of teaching the Dharma in accordance with the receptivity [of others]; having right action, by completely annihilating action; having right livelihood, by overcoming the residue of attachments; having right effort, by awakening to sambodhi; having right mindfulness, by constant non-forgetfulness; and having right absorption, by fully attaining the knowledge of Omniscience.

“It is not being frightened by emptiness, not being intimidated by the signless, and not being overpowered by the wishless, and being able through one’s knowledge to be reborn at will. It is relying on the meaning, not on the letter; relying on knowledge, not on discursive consciousness; relying on the Dharma, not on the person; and relying on the definitive sūtras, not on the sūtras that must be interpreted. In accord with the primordially non-arising and non-ceasing nature of things, it is not mentally constructing an essence of things—that, O Eminent Householder, is what is called the śramaṇa-aim of the renunciant bodhisattva.

A Few Good Men, p291-294

Note the admonition about “relying on the meaning, not on the letter; relying on knowledge, not on discursive consciousness; relying on the Dharma, not on the person; and relying on the definitive sūtras, not on the sūtras that must be interpreted.”

These instructions are also found in the Nirvāṇa Sūtra, where Nichiren read them as validating the Lotus Sutra as the highest teaching of the Buddha.

The Nirvana Sūtra declares, “Rely on the dharma, not on the man; rely on the wisdom, not on the knowledge.” “Rely on the dharma” in this passage means to rely on the eternal dharma preached in the Lotus-Nirvana sūtras. “Rely not on the man” means not to rely on those who do not believe in the Lotus-Nirvana sūtras. Those who do not have faith in the Lotus Sūtra, even Buddhas and bodhisattvas, are not “good friends” (reliable teachers) for us in the Latter Age, not to mention commentators, translators and teachers after the extinction of the Buddha who do not believe in the Lotus-Nirvana Sūtras. “Rely on the wisdom” means to rely on the wisdom of the Buddha. “Rely not on the knowledge” means not to rely on the opinions of bodhisattvas in the highest stage and below.

Shugo Kokka-ron, Treatise on Protecting the Nation, Writings of Nichiren Shōnin, Doctrine 1, Pages 59-60

The Inquiry of Ugra also offers an alternate set of bodhisattva vows. Compares these with the Four Great Vows promulgated by the founder of the Tiantai school and adopted by Nichiren:

“Who, in order to take care of, comfort, and protect all beings, seek the armor [of the bodhisattva]; who for the benefit of all beings take on the great burden, vowing:

The unrescued I will rescue.
The unliberated I will liberate.
The uncomforted I will comfort.
Those who have not yet reached parinirvāṇa, I will cause to attain parinirvāṇa

Finally, The Inquiry of Ugra includes this tip for the bodhisattva that I hope to keep in mind:

Without deception or artifice, he never tires of searching for what is lovable and virtuous in all beings. He is never satisfied with how much he has learned.

A Few Good Men, p226

A Few Good Men and Some Śrāvakas

In the past I’ve expressed puzzlement at the prediction that future Buddhas will divide the One Vehicle into three in order to save sentient beings.

Why bother? Because even though “the world in which he appears will not be an evil one” the causes and conditions that prompted the Buddha’s provisional teachings will still be present. This significantly alters the meaning of the Mahāyāna.

This is reflected in Jan Nattier’s discussion of The Inquiry of Ugra. As Nattier explains:

Far from describing the Mahāyāna as a form of protest against those pursuing the traditional path to Arhatship, the Ugra urges its audience to maintain harmony within the Buddhist community by honoring one’s Śrāvaka coreligionists. There is, in sum, not a shred of evidence that the Ugra’s authors considered the Śrāvaka path illegitimate–far from it, for they remind the bodhisattva that when he becomes a Buddha, he will lead a community of Śrāvakas himself.

A Few Good Men, p194

In The Inquiry of Ugra, the Buddha says:

“O Eminent Householder, how should the householder bodhisattva go to the Sangha for refuge? O Eminent Householder, as to the householder bodhisattva going to the Sangha for refuge, if he sees monks who are stream-enterers, or once-returners, or non-returners, or Arhats, or ordinary persons (pṛthagjana), who are members of the Śrāvaka Vehicle, the Pratyekabuddha Vehicle, or the Great Vehicle, with reverence and respect toward them he exerts himself to stand up, speaks to them pleasantly, and treats them with propriety. Showing reverence toward those he meets with and encounters, he bears in mind the thought ‘When I have awakened to Supreme Perfect Enlightenment, I will teach the Dharma which brings about [in others] the qualities of a Śrāvaka or a Pratyekabuddha in just this way.’ Thus having reverence and respect for them, he does not cause them any trouble. That is how a householder bodhisattva goes to the Sangha for refuge.

A Few Good Men, p218-219

I agree with Nattier’s declaration that the Mahāyāna can be seen as a synonym of the “bodhisattva path,” but she misses how The Inquiry of Ugra sets up the Bodhisattva and the Mahāyāna as a distinct and superior path. Consider this description of the Three Refuges for Bodhisattvas:

“And again, O Eminent Householder, if a householder bodhisattva has four things, he is one who ‘goes to the Buddha for refuge.’ What are the four? (l) he does not abandon the spirit of enlightenment; (2) he does not break his promise; (3) he does not forsake great compassion; and (4) he does not concern himself with the other vehicles. O Eminent Householder, if a householder bodhisattva has these four things, he is one who ‘goes to the Buddha for refuge.’

“And again, O Eminent Householder, if a householder bodhisattva has four things, he is one who ‘goes to the Dharma for refuge.’ What are the four? (l) he relies on and associates with those people who are preachers of the Dharma, and having revered and done homage to them, he listens to the Dharma; (2) having heard the Dharma, he thoroughly reflects upon it; (3) just as he has heard and absorbed it himself, he teaches and explains those Dharmas to others; and (4) he transforms that root-of-goodness which has sprung from his gift of the Dharma into Supreme Perfect Enlightenment. O Eminent Householder, the householder bodhisattva who has these four things may be said to be ‘going to the Dharma for refuge.’

“And again, O Eminent Householder, if a householder bodhisattva has four things, he may be said to be one who ‘goes to the Sangha for refuge.’ What are the four? (l) those who have [not yet] definitively entered into the Śrāvaka Vehicle he should lead to the spirit of Omniscience; (2) those who are drawn to material things he causes to be drawn to the Dharma; (3) he relies on the irreversible bodhisattva Sangha, not on the Sangha of the Śrāvakas; and (4) he strives for the good qualities of the Śrāvakas, but does not delight in their form of liberation. O Eminent Householder, if a householder bodhisattva has these four things, he may be said to be ‘going to the Sangha for refuge.’

A Few Good Men, p219-222

A Few Good Men

The Bodhisattva Path according to The Inquiry of Ugra

A Few Good Men: The Bodhisattva Path according to The Inquiry of UgraAfter reading Jan Nattier’s deconstruction of  the predictions of the extinction of Buddhism in Once Upon A Future Time, I remembered that I had a copy of Nattier’s “A Few Good Men: The Bodhisattva Path according to The Inquiry of Ugra.” In this 2003 book Nattier deconstructs the meaning of the early Mahāyāna. Was it a new doctrinal school, a reformist sect, or simply a “movement”?

She concludes:

If the Mahāyāna as reflected in the Ugra thus fails to conform to any of the three major categories–a new doctrinal school, a reformist sect, or simply a “movement”–to which it has been assigned in buddhological literature to date, how then was this term used by the Ugra’s authors? Somewhat surprisingly, perhaps–given the volume of ink that has been spilled in an attempt to define the “Mahāyāna” in recent years–the Ugra offers us a very simple and straightforward answer. For the authors of this sūtra, the Mahāyāna is nothing more, and nothing less, than a synonym of the “bodhisattva path.” For the Ugra, in other words, the Mahāyāna is not a school, a sect, or a movement, but a particular spiritual vocation, to be pursued within the existing Buddhist community. To be a “Mahāyānist”–that is, to be a bodhisattva–thus does not mean to adhere to some new kind of “Buddhism,” but simply to practice Buddhism in its most rigorous and demanding form.

A Few Good Men, p195

This conclusion originally surprised me, but upon reflection I realized that this accords well with the Lotus Sutra, which promises at the conclusion of the first chapter:

The Buddha will remove
Any doubt of those who seek
The teaching of the Three Vehicles.
No question will be left unresolved.

While the Lotus Sutra goes on to declare that there is only One Vehicle, the lesser path of the Bodhisattva vehicle is clearly a part of the Buddha’s provisional teachings. As Nattier notes:

If the Ugra cannot offer us a glimpse into the very dawn of the bodhisattva enterprise, it nonetheless remains a valuable witness to one of the earliest stages in the development of that path. It portrays a Buddhist community in which the path of the bodhisattva was viewed as an optional vocation suited only for the few; where tensions between bodhisattvas and Śrāvakas were evident, but had not yet led to institutional fission generating a separate Mahāyāna community; and where texts containing instructions for bodhisattva practice were known and transmitted by specialists within the larger monastic saṃgha. It emphatically does not convey a picture of the Mahāyāna as a “greater vehicle” in the sense of a more inclusive option, for the bodhisattva vehicle is portrayed as a supremely difficult enterprise, suited only (to borrow the recruiting slogan of the U.S. Marine Corps) for “a few good men.” And while the Ugra reflects an environment in which lay men were beginning to participate in such practices, there is no evidence that its authors even considered the possibility that women (whether lay or monastic) might do so as well.

A Few Good Men, p196

The Three Phases of the Dharma Within

As a postscript for my discussion of Mappō, I offer this quote from Gene Reeves’ 2010 book, “Stories of the Lotus Sutra”:

We can, of course, understand the three phases of the Dharma not as an inevitable sequence of periods of time, but as existential phases of our own lives. There will be times when the Dharma can be said to be truly alive in us, times when our practice is more like putting on a show and has little depth, and times when the life of the Dharma in us is in serious decline. But there is no inevitable sequence here. There is no reason, for example, why a period of true Dharma cannot follow a period of merely formal Dharma. And there is no reason to assume that a period has to be completed once it has been entered. We might lapse into a period of decline, but with the proper influences and circumstances we could emerge from it into a more vital phase of true Dharma. A coming evil age is mentioned several times in the Dharma Flower Sutra, but while living in an evil age, or an evil period of our own lives, makes teaching the Dharma difficult, even extremely difficult, nowhere does the Dharma Flower Sutra suggest that it is impossible to teach or practice true Dharma.

The Stories of the Lotus Sutra, p214