An Excerpt from Buddhist Masters of Modern China
The Lives and Legacies of Eight Eminent Teachers
Edited by Benjamin Brose
About This Title
Through the life stories and translated writings of eight masters, modern Chinese Buddhism comes to life for English readers for the first time.
Amidst the Chinese political revolutions and cultural upheavals of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, a group of dedicated and determined monks, nuns, and laypeople labored to reinvigorate the core practices and teachings of Buddhist China. These men and women—credited with instigating a “Buddhist revival”—overcame a series of obstacles to shore up the foundations of vibrant Buddhist traditions and ensure their transmission to future generations. Their legacies now underlay all the Buddhist teachings practiced throughout China, Taiwan, Hong Kong, and the Chinese diaspora today.
This ambitious collection introduces the lives and teachings of eight of these exceptional teachers. Brief but engaging biographies are set against accessible translations of key Buddhist teachings. We are introduced to Chan masters, Pure Land patriarchs, creative visionaries, disciplined renunciants, accomplished poets, and sophisticated scholars. These carefully crafted essays take the reader through the struggles and triumphs of Buddhists living through the transformative twentieth century in China. In a long-overdue portrait of modern Chinese Buddhism, we encounter truly remarkable individuals whose hard-won insights remain sources of inspiration and understanding for anyone interested in the history and practice of Buddhism.
Laiguo's Instructions for an Intensive Meditation Retreat
From Chapter 2, "A Formidable Chan Master: Laiguo"
by Benjamin Brose
Laiguo Miaoshu (1881–1953), one of the most revered Chan monks in modern history, was sixty-one years old when he delivered the talks translated in this chapter. Together with Master Xuyun (introduced in the previous chapter), Laiguo worked tirelessly to reinvigorate the Chan tradition in China.
The Translation
The talk translated below was delivered during a meditation retreat (chanqi) at Gaomin Monastery that began on November 22, 1942, and concluded seventy days later on February 1, 1943. Over these ten weeks, Laiguo gave a short talk nearly every day. These instructions were unscripted and thus have an informal, unpolished, and intimate tone. They offer a rare glimpse of a modern Chan master instructing and encouraging his disciples in the context of intense, extended training. All the talks Laiguo gave during this retreat were transcribed and published in a volume entitled Laiguo chanshi chanqi kaishi lu (Record of the Meditation Retreat Instructions of Chan Master Laiguo). I have translated four talks in their entirety: the opening address of the retreat, the instructions from the third day of the first week, the first day of the second week, and the seventh day of the third week.
Instructions from the First Week
Serious practice lasts a thousand days; awakening occurs in an instant. Even if you train for a thousand days, awakening occurs in an instant. Suppose you train for one thousand days without interruption. In that case, I can guarantee your awakening. If, however, your training has not yet reached such a place, I would not dare offer any guarantees. In this assembly there are people who have been living here for three or five years. There are also those who have been at Jinshan for three or five years. Among those who have been practicing austerities at Jinshan and Gaomin for ten or twelve years, is it possible that there are none who have trained for a thousand days? If they already have trained for a thousand days, aren’t they assured of awakening during this retreat? This retreat is specially focused on the practice that leads to awakening. So, why aren’t you awakened? It is because you are too pitiful. Although you say you have five, ten, or twenty years of training, you don’t yet have a thousand days of practice! If you don’t have a thousand days of practice, you will not be able to awaken. When I talk like this, you are thinking, “In the summer it’s so hot! We also must go to the Dharma Hall and refectory. It is not conducive to practice. Waiting for the time to pass, we are terribly busy following all the major regulations and minor rules. Then there are the additional periods of meditation. None of this leaves time for serious practice. Intensive retreats are for serious practice. We won’t let this opportunity pass us by!” Right! You are probably all thinking this.
I see that you are thinking that over the course of a year you will do serious practice only during intensive retreat. Summer after summer, from one period to the next, you meditate but still have to go to the Dharma Hall and the refectory. During retreat is when you do serious practice. This type of person is of the lowest grade, the most confused. Why? Intensive retreat is a time set aside for attaining realization. It is called the season of a thousand awakenings. Is this when serious practice happens? Serious practice must occur during ordinary times. If one doesn’t do serious practice during ordinary times and waits to begin during an intensive retreat, when will they awaken? This one word, awakening, do you have a stake in it? I’ll give you an analogy: It’s like someone during the Qing dynasty who has spent ten years reading. If an exam is held, wouldn’t they go to be tested?11 But if someone arrives at the examination site without being able to write or understand characters and then begins to make a serious effort, how would that turn out? Can they wear the cap of a scholar? They had ten years to study but did not read anything; they only gave themselves the title of scholar. During ordinary times, they did not study, but then they went to the exam and thought to put on a scholar’s cap. I’m afraid that won’t do.
This retreat is the same as an examination site. If you have spent three years making strenuous effort, you are already at a high level. When you arrive at this monastery and sit retreat, you will immediately awaken. It’s true! But if during ordinary times you only take on the name of a serious practitioner yet do not engage in serious practice, when you come to this retreat, how will you be able to awaken? It’s the same as someone who has not studied trying to take the civil service exam. This mistake you’re making goes back a long way. It’s not just today’s mistake. Considering this, do you still want to sit retreat? If not, is not sitting an option? Since none of you has the qualifications to sit retreat, you have all really failed the monks of this monastery. The resident monks have prepared everything on your behalf. If anything was amiss, they quickly rectified it. If there was something that might distract you, they quickly took care of it. In this way, I dare to say that the resident monks have done right by everyone. You have let these monks down, but they have not let you down in the slightest.
If there is a person who has done serious training for three or five years—wearing their robe; eating food; visiting the Dharma Hall, refectory, bathroom; and going to sleep—they have already scaled the peaks of practice and released their hold from the precipice. Today they have arrived at Gaomin prepared to sit retreat and attain realization. If the resident monks unexpectedly stopped supporting your retreat, they would be letting you down. I ask you, is there such a person? I ask you again. Do not say that you let the past three or five years slip past without engaging in serious practice. During the summer you did not raise “Who recites the Buddha’s name?” but then you enter the Meditation Hall and do not know how to raise [the huatou] so it is not raised. Now, in this retreat, period after period, week after week, while sitting and walking, can you raise “Who recites the Buddha’s name?”
You should calm your mind and ask yourselves, “Am I doing right by everyone?” In any kind of study, everyone wants to talk about progress. Do you know what constitutes progress for disciples of our tradition? Going to the Dharma Hall is progress; going to refectory is progress; going to the bathroom is progress. Every place is [an opportunity to make] progress. Do you understand how going to the Dharma Hall is progress? When you are standing in the hall and your head does not drop and your body does not move, that is progress. How so? When you practice to the point where you acquire some power, how could your head drop? How could your body move? When your head drops, if you’re not seeing forms, you’re hearing sounds. When your body moves, if you’re not feeling sore, you’re feeling itchy. So, can you really practice in the refectory, in the Dharma Hall, and in every other place? When you go to the toilet, the lid makes no sound. Raising your eyebrows, blinking your eyes, moving, standing, sitting, lying down—these are all opportunities for serious practice. You should understand that in our tradition these ordinary experiences are precious opportunities for intensive retreat.
Everyone arouse your mind!
BENJAMIN BROSE is Professor of Buddhist and Chinese Studies and chair of the department of Asian Languages and Cultures at the University of Michigan. He is interested in the cultural history of Buddhism and has written about the development of Chan (Zen), pilgrimage, translation, deity cults, and transcultural Buddhist exchange in East Asia. He is the author of numerous articles and books, including Embodying Xuanzang: The Postmortem Travels of a Buddhist Pilgrim.
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