Category Archives: Nihon

Miraculous Stories from the Japanese Buddhist Tradition

Available on Amazon

From the publisher’s description:

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.

As I did with Miraculous Tales of the Lotus Sutra from Ancient Japan, I have culled from this book a selection of material to set aside for future reference. I’ve collected stories of the Hokekyō reciters, the followers of the Lotus Sūtra, and I’ll publish those daily as part of my 32 Days of the Lotus Sūtra practice. Several of these stories appeared as Miraculous Tales of the Lotus Sutra from Ancient Japan. Additional details are available in the Miraculous Stories from the Japanese Buddhist Tradition translation.

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)

Next

The Certainty of Karmic Retribution

This notion of karma in the Nihon ryōi-ki was closely related to the various modes of salvation that proliferated throughout the medieval period in Japan. The concept of karma and that of the rokudō system provided an answer to one kind of question but also posed, or, at least, exacerbated, an old problem. Like most explanatory systems, the Buddhist one satisfied on one level and disturbed on another. My discussion of the Nihon ryōi-ki up to this point has focused on the way its basic paradigm provided a cognitive explanation of the world’s workings and a way of classifying various kinds of beings both seen and unseen. But it is necessary to recognize that there was also something deeply disquieting about the notion of karma.

As presented in the Nihon ryōi-ki, there is an inexorability in the way karma works: rewards and punishments are exactly equivalent to their corresponding good or bad deeds. Scholars have noted that the work is not necessarily pessimistic, however; Kyōkai is fairly sanguine both about the possibility of evading dire effects and about achieving upward mobility along the six courses. For him it is simply a matter of recognizing the way the system works. Such knowledge, he holds, will change behavior and produce good results. It is, he claims, a matter of “pulling the ears of people over many generations, offering them a hand of encouragement, and showing them how to cleanse the evil from their feet.” Although there are references to Buddhas and bodhisattvas in the work, these do not cancel the karmic results of earlier actions; they are not savior figures in that sense. The author of the Nihon ryōi-ki holds that knowledge of the system will so change behavior that people will move voluntarily and effectively up the ladder of transmigration.

Some of his contemporaries and people of later times were, however, much less sanguine. A satisfying answer to questions concerning the basic functioning of the cosmos did not remove the fears of individuals about their personal destinies. Natural fears vis-a-vis death’s uncertainties were now exacerbated by deep anxiety about the danger of transmigration downward in the taxonomy and a fall into hell. There is abundant evidence that people in all strata of society, fully convinced of the workings of karma, were anxious—perhaps, especially during periods of warfare, when many found themselves killing their fellows in battle.

Unless they were to be in a state of continuing despair, the people of Japan needed to have some relief from the conception of karma and transmigration as exact, inexorable, and unmitigated. They required what has been called rokudō-bakku, or “escape from suffering in the six courses.” In the medieval period, theories of salvation proliferated. Though it would be impossible to survey them all here, each in its own way contributed to the possibility of optimism and hope.

The Karma of Words, p48-49

On Receiving a Penalty for Doing Evil because of Ignorance of the Law of Karmic Causation

Saheki no sukune Itachi of the Junior Fourth Rank, Upper Grade, lived in the reign of the emperors who resided at Nara Palace.

Once a man from the capital went to Chikuzen and died of a sudden illness, arriving at the palace of King Yama. Though he did not see anybody, he heard the voice of a man who was being beaten echoing through the earth. At every lash of the whip, he cried, “What pain! What pain!”

The king asked his clerks, saying, “When he was in the world, what good did he do?” The clerks answered, “He made one copy of the Hoke-kyō.” Then the king said, “Atone for his sins by balancing them against the scrolls of the scripture.” When they matched the scrolls with his sins, the scrolls were outnumbered without any comparison. Then they matched the 69,384 characters of the scripture with his sins, but still the latter outnumbered the former, and he could not be saved. Thereupon, the king clapped his hands in surprise, saying “Although I have seen many people who committed sins and suffered, I have never seen a man who committed so many sins.”

The man from the capital secretly asked a person beside him, “Who is the man being beaten?” The answer was, “This is Saheki no sukune Itachi.” When he returned from the Land of the Dead unexpectedly and was restored to life, he remembered the name very well and sent a report on the Land of the Dead to the local government. The government, however, did not believe it. Therefore, he took an opportunity to go up to the capital by boat and gave a report on how Lord Itachi had labored and suffered in the palace of King Yama. At this news, his family was deeply troubled, saying, “From his death to seven times the seventh day we practiced good and applied the merits to his benevolent spirit. How can we think of him suffering severely, having fallen in an evil state?” Then they made another copy of the Hoke-kyō, revered and dedicated it in order to save his spirit from suffering. This is also an extraordinary event. (Page 274-275)

Miraculous Stories from the Japanese Buddhist Tradition (Nihon ryōiki)


On Being Penalized for Abusing an Official’s Authority and Ruling Unrighteously

On Being Penalized for Abusing an Official’s
Authority and Ruling Unrighteously
In the reign of Emperor Shirakabe, a man by the name of Hi no kimi of Matsura district, Hizen province in Tsukushi, died suddenly and reached the land of Yama. When the king checked, it turned out that his death was premature, and he was sent back home.

On his way back he saw a hell which looked like a boiling kettle in the ocean. In it something black like a stump that was sinking and rising as the water boiled called to him, saying, “Wait! I have something to tell you.” It sank as the water boiled, and then it came again to the surface, saying, “Wait! I have something to tell you.”

After this had happened three times, the object spoke a fourth time, saying “I am Mononobe no Komaro from Harihara district in Tōtōmi province. During my life I worked as an official for many years in charge of transporting hulled rice and took other people’s property unrighteously. Because of this sin, I have been suffering here. I pray that you will copy the Hoke-kyō for me so that I may be excused from my sin.”

When Hi no kimi came back from the Land of the Dead, he wrote a precise report of what he had seen and heard and sent it to the local government. Having received this report, the local government in turn forwarded it to the central government. As the central government did not take it seriously, the grand secretary did not bother to report it to the emperor, ignoring it for twenty years.

When Sugano no asomi Mamichi of the Junior Fourth Rank, Upper Grade, was appointed head secretary, he noticed the report, and presented it to Emperor Yamabe. Having heard this, the emperor inquired of Assistant Executive Sekyō, saying, “Are we, living beings in this world, released from suffering after twenty years in hell?” Sekyō answered, “Twenty years on earth is only the beginning of the suffering in hell, because one hundred years in this world corresponds to one day and night in hell. This is why he is not yet released.”

Upon hearing this, the emperor made a sign of repentance and sent his messenger to Tōtōmi province to investigate Komaro’s case. Having asked about Komaro’s deeds, he discovered that the report was true. The emperor grieved over this, believing it, and summoned four scripture copiers to copy the Hoke-kyō for Komaro on the seventh of the third month in the beginning of the fifteenth year of the Enryaku era. He organized a devotees’ association to support this work, inviting the prince regent, ministers, and officials in number equal to the 69,384 characters of the scripture. Also, the emperor held an elaborate service at a private temple in the capital of Nara, to recite that scripture with the Most Venerable Zenshu as lecturer and Assistant Executive Sekyō as reciter, giving merits to Komaro to save his spirit from suffering.

Ah! How deplorable he was who, without knowing the law of karmic causation, ruled unrighteously like a fox who borrows a tiger’s skin and its power and who was eventually punished for his inordinately mean heart! The law of causation never fails to work. (Page 271-273)

Miraculous Stories from the Japanese Buddhist Tradition (Nihon ryōiki)


On the Immediate Penalty of Violent Death Incurred by an Ignorant Man Who Broke a Wooden Buddha Image a Village Child Had Made in Playing

On the Immediate Penalty of Violent Death Incurred by an Ignorant Man Who Broke a Wooden Buddha Image a Village Child Had Made in Playing1
In the village of Hamanaka, Niki, Ama district, Kii province there was an ignorant man whose name is unknown. Born ignorant, he did not know the law of causation.

There was a path running along the mountain between Ama and Ate. It was called Tamasaka. If one climbs the mountain from Hamanaka, traveling due south, he will reach the village of Hata. Once a child of that village went into the mountain to collect firewood and played by that mountain path, carving a piece of wood into a Buddha image and piling stones into a pagoda. He placed the image in the stone pagoda and occasionally played there, making offerings.

In the reign of Emperor Shirakabe, an ignorant man laughed at the statue carved by the child in his play, chopping and breaking it with an axe. Hardly had he gone any distance when he threw himself on the ground, bleeding from the nose and mouth with both eyes plucked out, dying in an instant like the disappearance of an illusion.

Indeed, we learn that the Guardian of dharma is present. How could we not revere it? The Hoke-kyō explains it thus: “If children draw an image of Buddha with a twig, brush, or fingernail in their play, they will all attain Buddhahood. Or if they raise one hand and bow to worship a Buddha-image, they will attain the supreme stage of Buddhahood.” Therefore, be pious and faithful. (Page 262-263)

Miraculous Stories from the Japanese Buddhist Tradition (Nihon ryōiki)


On Receiving the Immediate Penalty Violent Death for Collecting Debts by Force and with High Interest

Tanaka no mahito Hiromushime was the wife of Oya no agatanushi Miyatc of Outer Junior Sixth Rank, Upper Grade, a govcrnor of Miki district, Sanuki province. She gave birth to eight children and was very rich. Among her possessions were cattle, slaves, money and rice, and fields. However, she lacked faith and was so greedy that she would never give away anything. She used to make a great profit by selling rice wine diluted with water. On the day when she made a loan, she used a small measuring cup, while on the day she collected, she used a big measuring cup. Or, when she lent rice, she used a lightweight scale, but, when she collected it, she used a heavyweight scale. She did not show any mercy in forcibly collecting interest, sometimes ten times and sometimes a hundred times as much as the original loan. She was strict in collecting debts, never being generous. Because of this, many people worried a great deal and abandoned their homes to escape from her, wandering in other provinces. There has never been anybody so greedy.

On the first of the sixth month in the seventh year of the Hōki era, Hiromushime took to her bed and was confined there for many days. On the twentieth of the seventh month she called her husband and eight sons to her bedside and told them about the dream she had experienced.

“I was summoned to the palace of King Yama, and told of my three sins: the first one consists of using much of the property of the Three Treasures and not repaying it; the second, of making great profits by selling diluted rice wine; the third, of using two kinds of measuring cups and scales, giving seven-tenths for a loan and collecting twelve-tenths for a debt. ‘I summoned you because of these sins. I just want to show you that you should receive a penalty in this life,’ said the king.”

She passed away on the same day she told of the dream. They did not cremate her for seven days but called thirty-two monks and lay brothers to pray to Buddha for her for nine days. On the evening of the seventh day she was restored to life and opened the lid of the coffin. When they came to look in it, the stench was indescribable. Her body above the waist had already turned into an ox with four inch horns on the forehead; her two hands had become ox hooves, with the nails cracked like the insteps of an ox hoof. The lower body below the waist was human in form. She did not like rice but grass, and, after eating, ruminated. She did not wear any clothes, lying in her filth. Streams of people from the east and west hurried to gather and look at her in wonder. In shame, grief, and pity, her husband and children prostrated themselves on the ground, making numerous vows. In order to atone for her sin, they offered various treasures to Miki-dera and seventy oxen, thirty horses, fifty acres of fields, and four thousand rice bundles to Tōdai-ji. They wrote off all debts. At the end of five days she died after the provincial and district magistrates had seen her and were about to send a report to the central government. All the witnesses in that district and province grieved over and worried about her.

She did not know the law of karmic retribution, being unreasonable and unrighteous. Thus, we know that this is an immediate penalty for unreasonable deeds and unrighteous deeds. Since the immediate penalty comes as surely as this, how much more certain will be the penalty in a future life.

One scripture says: “Those who don’t repay their debts will atone for them, being reborn as a horse or an ox.” The debtor is compared to a slave, the creditor to a master. The former is like a pheasant, the latter a hawk. If you make a loan, don’t use excessive force to collect the debt, for, if you are unreasonable, you will be reborn as a horse or an ox and made to work by your debtor. (Page 257-259)

Miraculous Stories from the Japanese Buddhist Tradition (Nihon ryōiki)


On Being Saved by Reciting the Name of Śākyamuni Buddha While Drifting on the Ocean

Ki no omi Umakai was a man from the village of Kibi, Ate district, Kii province. Nakatomi no muraji Ojimaro was a boy from the village of Hamanaka, Ama district in the same province. Kinomaro no asomi lived at a port in Hidaka district in the same province, using a net to catch fish. Umakai and Ojimaro were given an annual payment for their labor by Maro no asomi, and both were driven hard day and night to catch fish by net.

In the reign of Emperor Shirakabe, on the sixth of the sixth month in the summer of the second year of the hare, the sixth year of the Hōki era, it suddenly blew hard and rained in torrents, so that the water flooded the port and floated various timbers and logs into the sea. Maro no asomi sent Umakai and Ojimaro to collect driftwood. Both man and boy made the collected timber into a raft on which they rode, trying to row against the current. The sea was extremely rough, breaking the ropes that held the raft together, and immediately the raft broke apart and drifted out of the port into the sea. The man and the boy each got hold of a piece of wood and drifted to sea on it. Both of them were ignorant, but they never ceased wailing, “Śākyamuni Buddha, please deliver us from this calamity!”

After five days, the boy was eventually cast by the waves onto the beach at a salt makers’ village, Tamachino no ura, in the southwestern part of Awaji province, in the evening. The other man, Umakai, was cast onto the same spot early in the morning on the sixth day. The local people, having asked them why they had been cast by the waves onto the shore, learned what had happened and took care of them out of pity, reporting it to the provincial magistrate. When he heard, he came to see them and gave them food because he was sympathetic.

In grief, the boy said, “As I have followed a man who kills, my suffering is immeasurable. If I go home, I shall be driven to begin killing again and never be able to stop.” Thus he stayed at the provincial temple in Awaji province becoming a follower of the monk of that temple.

Umakai, however, went home after two months. When his family saw his face and protruding eyes, they wondered and said, “He was drowned in the sea. The seventh seventh day has passed, and we have already offered a vegetarian feast to thank the Buddha for his benevolence. How could he come back alive so unexpectedly? Is it a dream, or is he a ghost?” Thereupon, Umakai told his family in detail what had happened, and they were sorrowful as well as happy. Awakened and disillusioned with the world, he entered the mountains to practice dharma. Those who saw or heard of him could not but marvel at the event.

The sea being full of danger, it was owing to the power of Shakanyorai and the deep faith of those who drifted on the sea that they could survive the peril. The immediate repayment of our deeds is as sure as in this instance, and how much more certain repayment in future lives will be! (Page 255-257)

Miraculous Stories from the Japanese Buddhist Tradition (Nihon ryōiki)


On Being Repaid Good and Evil for Copying the Hoke-kyō and for Exploiting Others with Heavy Scales

Osada no toneri Ebisu was a man of the village of Atome, Chisagata district, Shinano province. He was very rich, and would lend money and rice. He copied the Hoke-kyō twice, and each time he held a ceremony to recite it. After further thought, he was not satisfied with this; he reverently copied it once again but did not hold another ceremony.

At the end of the fourth month in the summer of the tenth year of the ox, the fourth year of the Hōki era, Ebisu died suddenly. His family conferred and said, “Since his birth was in the year of fire, we won’t cremate him.” Instead they consecrated the ground on which to build a tomb, while providing temporary burial.

Seven days had passed after his death when he was restored to life and related a story as follows: “There were four messengers who accompanied and guided me. At first we crossed in a field and then came to a steep hill. When we had climbed the slope, I saw a tall zelkova tree. Standing there and looking over the path ahead, I saw many men sweeping the road with brooms and heard them saying, ‘We are sweeping and purifying the road along which a man who copied the Hoke-kyō will pass.’ When I reached them, they stood by and bowed to me. In front of me there was a deep river about a hundred and twenty yards wide. There was a bridge over the river. Many men were repairing it, saying, ‘We are repairing the bridge which a man who copied the Hoke-kyō will cross.’ When I reached them, they stood by and bowed to me.

“Having crossed the bridge to the other side, I saw a golden palace, in which a king was seated. Near the bridge, the road was three-forked. The first way was wide and flat; the second was somewhat overgrown with grass; the third was obstructed by thick bushes. The messengers forced me to take the third one, and one of them entered the palace, saying, ‘We have brought him.’ The king saw me, and said, ‘This is the man who copied the Hokke-kyō.’ Pointing to the second way, he said to the messengers, ‘Take him that way.’

“The four men accompanied me to a hot iron pillar, which they made me hold while they pushed a scorching iron net against my back. After three nights, they made me hold a copper pillar, pushing a scorching copper net against my back. After three days, the objects were still as hot as burning charcoal. Though the iron and copper were hot, they were not unbearable, merely uncomfortable. Though they were heavy, they were not unbearable, but certainly not light. Led by my past evil deeds, I was attracted to them, only wanting to hold them and bear the burden.

“When six days had passed, I left the place. Three monks asked me, ‘Do you know why you suffered?’ I replied, ‘No, I don’t.’ Then they asked me, ‘What good did you perform?’ I said, ‘I made three copies of the Hoke-kyō, one of which has not yet been dedicated.’ They took out three tablets, two made of gold, one of iron. Then they took out two scales; one weighed on the heavy side by one quart of rice, the other on the light side by one quart. Then they said to me, ‘Checking our tablets, we have learned that you made three copies of the Hoke-kyō. Though you copied a Mahayana scripture, you committed a grave sin. You were summoned here because you used the lighter-weight scale for lending rice, but the heavier-weight scale for collecting debts. Now, go home immediately.’

“On my way back, I saw many men sweeping the road with brooms and repairing the bridge as before and heard them saying, ‘The man who copied the Hoke-kyō will return from the palace of King Yama.’ When I had crossed the bridge, I realized that I had been restored to life. ”

After that he paid homage to the copied scripture and recited it with greater faith in the service. Indeed, we learn that doing good brings luck and doing evil brings disaster. The effects of good and evil never disappear, and the repayment of these two takes place at the same time. One should only practice good and never do evil. (Page 250-251)

Miraculous Stories from the Japanese Buddhist Tradition (Nihon ryōiki)


On Immediately Getting a Twisted Mouth by Speaking Ill of a Woman Copying the Hoke-kyō

In the village of Hani, Nakata district, Awa province, there was a woman whose surname was Imbe no obito (Her name was Tayasuko.) In the reign of Emperor Shirakabe, she was copying the Hoke-kyō at Sonoyama-dera in Oe district when Imbe no muraji Itaya of the same district spoke ill of her, pointing out her mistakes. Immediately he was inflicted with a twisted mouth and a distorted face, which never returned to their normal state.

The Hoke-kyō says: “If you speak ill of a devotee of this scripture, none of your organs will work well, and you will be dwarfed, ugly, feeble minded, blind, deaf, and hunchbacked.” Speaking to the same effect, it also says: “If you reveal the mistakes of a devotee of this scripture, you will contract leprosy in this world, whether what you say is true or not.” Therefore, be reverent and have faith in the Hoke-kyō. Praise its power. Do not speak ill of others’ faults, for you may incur a great disaster if you do. (Page 248-249)

Miraculous Stories from the Japanese Buddhist Tradition (Nihon ryōiki)


On the Immediate Penalty of Violent Death for a Licentious Scripture Copier Who Copied the Hokke-kyō

Tajihi the Scripture Copier came from Tajihi district, Kawachi province. As his surname was Tajihi, he was given such a popular name. In that district there was a temple called Nonakadō.

In the sixth month in the summer of the eighth year of the boar, the second year of the Hōki era, a man made a vow to copy the Hoke-kyō and invited the copier to the temple. Female devotees gathered in the temple to add purified water to the ink for copying scriptures, and it happened that the sky suddenly clouded over and there was a shower in the afternoon. The temple was so cramped that those who sought shelter from the shower filled it, and the copier and the women were sitting in the same place. Then the scripture copier, driven by strong lust, crouched behind one of the girls, lifted her skirt, and had intercourse with her. As his penis entered her vagina, they died together embracing each other. The girl died foaming at the mouth.

Indeed, we learn that this was the punishment given by the Guardian of dharma. However intensely your body and heart may burn with the fire of lust, do not, because of the promptings of a lewd heart, commit a filthy deed. A fool indulging in lust is just like a bug jumping into a fire. Therefore, a perceptive scripture says, “A thoughtless youth easily feels lust.” Or the Nehan-gyō, expressing the same idea, says: “If you know what the five kinds of desire are, you will not find any pleasure in them. Nor will you remain a slave to them even momentarily. It is just like a dog chewing on a meatless bone, never knowing satisfaction.” (Page 245-246)

Miraculous Stories from the Japanese Buddhist Tradition (Nihon ryōiki)


On a Man Who Made a Vow to Copy the Hoke-kyō and Who Was Saved From a Dark Pit Devoid of Sunlight Owing to the Power of His Vow

In Aita district, Mimasaka province, there was a state-owned iron mine. In the reign of Empress Abe, a provincial magistrate drafted ten workmen and had them enter the iron mine to dig out ore. All of a sudden, the entrance to the mine caved in. Surprised and terrified, the workmen made a rush for the exit, and nine of them barely managed to escape. Before the last man got out, the entrance was blocked. The magistrate and people, high and low, grieved for him, for they thought he had been crushed to death in the landslide. Wailing in grief, his family painted an image of Kannon and copied the scriptures to give merits to the dead man, thus completing the seventh day service.

The man, however, was sealed in the pit alone, saying to himself, “I have not yet fulfilled my vow which I made recently to copy the Hoke-kyō. If my life is saved, I will fulfill it without fail.” In the dark pit he felt regret and sorrow greater than he had ever experienced.

Meanwhile he noticed that the door of the pit opened a little and a ray of sunlight came in. A novice entered through the opening and brought him a bowl filled with delicacies, saying, “Your family made offerings of food and drink so that I might save you. I have come to you since you have been wailing in grief.” So saying, he went out. Not long after he had gone, a hole opened above the man’s head, and sunlight flooded the pit. The opening was about two feet square and fifty feet high.

At the same time, about thirty men who had come into the mountain to collect vines passed near the hole. The man at the bottom of the pit saw them pass and cried, “Take my hand.” The workmen in the mountain heard what sounded like the hum of a mosquito. Out of curiosity they dropped a vine into the pit with a stone at the end of the vine. The man took hold of it and pulled. It was evident that there was someone at the bottom. They made a rope and a basket of vines, tied lengths of vine rope to the four corners of the basket, and lowered it into the pit with a pulley set up at the opening. When the man at the bottom got into the basket, they pulled him up and sent him home.

Nothing could surpass the joy of his family. The provincial magistrate asked him, “What good did you do?” The man told him the whole story. Greatly moved, the magistrate organized a devotees’ associations to cooperate in copying the Hoke-kyō and held a dedication ceremony.

This took place owing to the divine power of the Hoke-kyō and the favor of Kannon. There is no doubt about this. (Page 238-239)

Miraculous Stories from the Japanese Buddhist Tradition (Nihon ryōiki)


This story also appears in Miraculous Tales of the Lotus Sutra from Ancient Japan