A typical course for a would-be Buddhist was to study Confucianism first, switching later to Taoism, and finally settling in Buddhism. This pattern is a process of spiritual evolution typically found in the careers of Chinese Buddhists throughout all eras. Tao-sheng was no exception; he, too, passed through the secular stages of training (though they were relatively brief in his case) to arrive at Buddhism. …

As religious practices became more diversified with the introduction of Buddhism, it became an accepted idea that the way (Tao), which is one by nature, can be arrived at via different paths. This view became a fundamental proposition for Tao-sheng’s contemporaries, repeated in their writings as it had been formulated earlier in the I Ching: “[In the world] there are many different roads but the destination is the same.”

Tao-sheng’s life (ca. 360-434) lies mainly within the period of Eastern Chin (317-419), extending a little further to that of the Sung Dynasty (House of Liu) (420-477). The Chin era witnessed the development of “gentry Buddhism,” a product of interchanges between monks and intellectuals who fled from the north after its conquest and helped found a new dynasty in the south. Gentry Buddhism thus refers to the class of people involved and their tendency to focus on philosophical rather than religious issues. Tao-sheng was first initiated into this form of Chinese Buddhism.

The introduction of Buddhism to China had taken place about three centuries earlier, generally believed to have occurred around the time of the Christian era. In spite of this great length of time, Buddhism had not really taken root in Chinese soil. Only since the middle of the second century, with the influx of missionaries from the Indian subcontinent and its perimeter (including An Shih-kao, from Parthia, the first missionary ever recorded), could tangible signs of development be found. The influx of missionaries led to the introduction and translation of āgamas, sūtras, and expositions, activities that had increased greatly by the time of Tao-sheng, due mainly to the missionary zeal of Kumārajīva, with whom the former studied for some time. These thinkers were to encounter and challenge the presuppositions of the existing traditions and face a number of new hermeneutical and exegetical problems.

[Tao-sheng’s commentary] has extraordinary historical value. As the first commentary ever written on the Lotus, a work that itself was to become an increasingly important scripture in East Asia, it set many patterns for later commentators as well as founders of the Chinese Buddhist schools. Most likely, [this commentary] is the first exegetical commentary in a full-fledged form in Chinese Buddhism. In that respect, it is probable that the work had a far-reaching impact beyond the area circumscribed by the Lotus, whether individual writers realized or acknowledged it.

The [commentary] naturally had a considerable effect on the interpretation of the Lotus. The fact that Tao-sheng attached such importance to the scripture by writing a commentary foreshadows the rise of the Lotus as a basic text in the Chinese Buddhist tradition. The Lotus emerged as one of the most influential of the scriptures of Mahāyāna Buddhism.

Tao-sheng’s attempt at schematization and rationalization of the Buddha’s diverse, if not contradictory, doctrines under a single teaching program in four units long prefigures the p’an-chiao systems of the T’ien-t’ai and Hua-yen doctrines. This rationalization is linked closely with the motif of diversity in unity, which was to be stressed especially by the T’ien-t’ai syncretists. As for the p’an-chaio [ the Chinese systems of doctrinal classification], the T’ien-t’ai and the Hua-yen Buddhists owed Tao-sheng more than the general idea of it. In their p’an-chiao schemas are found the two components, sudden and gradual teachings, for whose conception, as fully seen in the [commentary], Tao-sheng was primarily responsible. Thus one may say that the essence of Tao-sheng’s understanding regarding the Lotus found its way into some of the more important theoretical works in Chinese Buddhism.

The only credible information about how Tao-sheng came to take an interest in the Lotus is his own statement found in the preface to the commentary itself. He writes that earlier, “when young,” he happened to attend a series of lectures on the Lotus, which were “rich in literary content and meaning” and “deep in reflection in the explanatory medium (shih) and underlying principle (li).” The notes he jotted down then, he goes on to say, became the basis of the present commentary compiled toward the end of his life in 432. The lecturer is not specified. Possibly, it could have been either Chu Fa-t’ai (320-387) or Kumārajīva (344-413). The expression “when I was young” makes Chu sound like the more plausible author, because Tao-sheng was presumably with Chu between ages eleven (ca. 371) and twenty-seven (ca. 387), whereas he studied under Kumārajīva in his late forties, between 405 and 408.

However, no other evidence supports the theory of the earlier master. Furthermore, the commentary is based on the text of Kumārajīva, not on any other translation, though it is not categorically impossible that he initially attended the lecture based on another version and later used the new translation. The oldest of the three extant translations is the one by Dharmarakshita (translated in 286). Tao-sheng may have studied it at some point in the thirty years following his conversion to Buddhism. Yet, the study of the Prajñāpāramitā Sūtras (especially in the circle of Chu Fa-t’ai as in the circle of the latter’s colleague Tao-an) dominated and overshadowed the study of other scriptures.

As a matter of fact, Tao-sheng was in Ch’ang-an when Kumārajīva translated the Lotus. The translation was not limited to rendering the Sanskrit text into the Chinese language but involved the master’s interpretation of the text, eliciting lively discussions among students concerning the most appropriate translations of the original Sanskrit terms. It may be pointed out here that in his colophon to the Lotus, Seng-chao recognized Tao-sheng’s presence in the translation, also stating that “the letters and meanings (as suggested by Kumārajīva) were both penetrative,” resembling Tao-sheng’s description cited earlier. In any event, a long gap of at least twenty-seven years lies between Tao-sheng’s introduction to the Lotus and the compilation of his commentary. During this period Tao-sheng was occupied with many subjects and sūtras, covering practically all of his theories and writings. The commentary thus marks the culmination of his scholarship.

The commentary was completed in 432 while Tao-sheng was at Lu-shan after being excommunicated in 430 because of the icchantika issue. Tao-sheng apparently took up the Lotus as a medium to voice his thoughts and feelings about the Buddhist study and practice of his time. This is expressed in the first passage of the commentary, as he laments: “those who seriously tackle and grasp [the subtle words] are few while those who superficially touch and sneer at them are many.” In fact the doctrine of universal Buddhahood is manifestly embodied in the text.

Does Tao-sheng provide adequate metaphysical and epistemological grounds for sudden enlightenment? The key to this question lies in the concept of li: a term of extreme significance in the Chinese philosophical tradition, and one that is ubiquitous in Tao-sheng’s writings. li has a wide spectrum of implications embracing both the particular and the universal, yet it may be safe to relate li to the essential substance underlying all things, including the Buddha’s teachings. However, Tao-sheng seems to take particulars as representations of the universal, and therefore, in his view, there is no serious conflict between the two levels. It may be possible to see li as a metaphysical term for the ultimate reality. li is identified with what is immutable (ch’ang): nirvāṇa, Dharmatā, and Dharma-kāya. By losing it one enters into the bondage of birth-and-death (saṃsāra); and by attaining it one reaches nirvāṇa. Whatever it is, li represents that by which one is to be enlightened; that is, it is the content of enlightenment.

Then, why sudden enlightenment? Because li is indivisible and nonanalytic, and the ontological nature of li dictates its epistemological mode. Tao-sheng makes this point in his [Commentary on the Nirvāṇa Sūtra]: “The true li (or Truth) is self-so (tzu-jan): enlightenment also is [the process of] mysteriously identifying oneself with [Truth]. What is true being not gradational (nondifferentiated), then can enlightenment allow any [stages of] changing?” The interrelation of ontology and epistemology seen here receives a clearer exposition by Tao-sheng in the following quotation: “What is the meaning of sudden? It means that li is indivisible; while the word enlightenment means illuminating the ultimate [that li is]. Hence, nondual enlightenment matches with indivisible li. [The distinction between] li and knowledge being done away with, we call it sudden enlightenment.” Thus, the indivisible nature of li requires an equally indivisible means to grasp it.

As a corollary, one also can consider the expression one. li is often described as “one,” especially in the [Commentary on the Lotus Sutra]. One is found along with such words as ultimate (or “final”) (chi), mysterious (miao), everlasting (ch’ang), as well as vehicle (yāna), referring to One Vehicle as the point of synthesis in the dialectical process involving the three vehicles. Hsieh’s argument in the [Pien-tsung lun] begins with the premise that “li is united with the One ultimate (or one and final).” As a logical consequence in his view, “one enlightenment” therefore is in order: “with one enlightenment all the fetters of existence are dispensed with simultaneously.”

Tao-sheng does not specifically reject the established doctrine of stages (bhūmi), which apparently typifies gradual enlightenment, but he locates the ultimate li beyond the confines of the ten stages. The ten stages and four grades of sagehood are merely the means that the Buddha devised to bring li within reach of all sentient beings.

Faith (hsin) is relegated by Tao-sheng as something short of enlightenment. “Understanding through faith” (hsin-chieh) in his view is not genuine enlightenment: when enlightenment sets in, faith gives way. In the [Pien-tsung lun] we find this view reiterated by Hsieh Ling-yūn; “Understanding is not to be gradually reached, whereas faith arises [gradually] from instruction. What do I mean by this? The fact that faith arises from instruction [shows that] there is such a thing as the work of daily advancement. But since [final] understanding is not gradual, there can be no such thing as partial entry into illumination.” In this way, Buddhahood does not allow gradual access, but rather an all-or-nothing, once-and-for-all situation.