Some of the sermons of the sixth patriarch are preserved in the
book known as the _Platform Sutra on the Treasure of the Law_
(_Fa-pao-t‘an-ching_). The title, “sutra” has generally been given to
writings ascribed to the Buddha or those somehow personally connected
with him, and that a collection of the sermons of Hui-nêng has been
so honoured shows what a significant position he occupies in the
history of Chinese Buddhism. “The Platform Sutra” has a reference
to the famous ordination platform erected by Gunabhadra, the first
translator of the _Laṅkāvatāra_, of the Liu-sung dynasty, A.D. 420–479.
At the time of the erection as well as later, it was prophesied by
Chih-yüeh (according to another authority by Paramārtha), during
the Liang dynasty that some years later a Bodhisattva in the flesh
would be ordained on this platform and deliver sermons on the Buddha’s
“spiritual seal.” Thus the “Platform Sutra” means the orthodox teaching
of the Zen given from this platform.
The sermons here preserved are mere fragments of those delivered during
the thirty-seven years of Hui-nêng’s active missionary life. Even of
these fragments how much is to be regarded as genuine and authoritative
is a question we cannot at present give any definite answer, as the
book seems to have suffered the vicissitudes of fates, partly showing
the fact that the Zen message of the sixth patriarch was extraordinary
in many respects so as to arouse antagonism and misunderstanding
among Buddhists. When this antagonism later reached its climax, it is
reported that the book was burned up as against the genuine teaching of
Buddhism. Except a few sentences and passages, however, which can at
once be rejected as spurious, we may take the _Platform Sutra_ on the
whole as expressing the spirit and teaching of the sixth patriarch of
Zen.
The principal ideas of Hui-nêng, which make him the real Chinese
founder of Zen Buddhism may be summed up as follows:
1. We can say that Zen has come to its own consciousness by Hui-nêng.
While Bodhi-Dharma brought it from India and successfully transplanted
it in China, it did not fully realise its special message at the time.
More than two centuries were needed before it grew aware of itself and
knew how to express itself in the way native to the Chinese mind; the
Indian mode in which its original teaching had been expressed as was
the case with Bodhi-Dharma and his immediate disciples had to give way
as it were to become truly Chinese. As soon as this transformation
or transplantation was accomplished in the hands of Hui-nêng, his
disciples proceeded at once to work out all its implications. The
result was what we have as the Zen school of Buddhism. How did then
Hui-nêng understand Zen?
According to him, Zen was the “seeing into one’s own Nature.” This
is the most significant phrase ever coined in the development of Zen
Buddhism. Around this Zen is now crystallised, and we know where
to direct our efforts and how to represent it in our consciousness.
After this, the progress of Zen Buddhism was rapid. It is true that
this phrase occurs in the life of Bodhi-Dharma in the _Records of the
Transmission of the Lamp_, but it is in the part of his life on which
we cannot put much reliance. Even when the phrase was actually used
by Dharma, it was not necessarily considered by him the essence of
Zen as distinguishing itself from other schools of Buddhism. Hui-nêng
however was fully aware of its signification, and impressed the idea
unequivocally upon the minds of his audience. When he made his first
declaration of Zen for the benefit of Yin-tsung, the statement was
quite unmistakable, “We talk of seeing into our own Nature, and not of
practising dhyana or obtaining liberation.”[4.56] Here we have the gist
of Zen, and all his later sermons are amplifications of this idea.
By “Nature” he understood Buddha-Nature, or more particularly from
the intellectual point of view, Prajñā. He says that this Prajñā is
possessed by every one of us, but owing to the confusion of thought
we fail to realise it in ourselves. Therefore we must be instructed
and properly guided by an adept in Zen Buddhism, when we shall open
a spiritual eye and by ourselves see into the Nature. This Nature
knows no multiplicity, it is absolute oneness, being the same in the
ignorant as well as in the wise. The difference comes from confusion
and ignorance. People talk so much, think so much, of Prajñā, but fail
altogether to realise it in their own minds. It is like talking about
food all day, however much we may talk we forever remain hungry. You
may explain the philosophy of Śūnyatā for ten thousand years, but so
long as you have not yet seen into your Nature, it is absolutely of
no avail. There are again some people who regard Zen as consisting in
sitting quietly with an empty mind devoid of thoughts and feelings.
Such know not what Prajñā is, what Mind is. It fills the universe and
never rests from work. It is free, creative, and at the same time it
knows itself. It knows all in one and one in all. This mysterious
working of Prajñā issues from your own Nature. Do not depend upon
letters but let your own Prajñā illumine within yourself.
2. The inevitable result of it was the “abrupt” teaching of the
Northern school. The seeing is an instant act as far as the mental
eye takes in the whole truth at one glance—the truth which transcends
dualism in all form; it is abrupt as far as it knows no gradations, no
continuous unfolding. Read the following passage from the _Platform
Sutra_, in which the essentials of the abrupt doctrine are given:
“When the abrupt doctrine is understood, there is no need of
disciplining oneself in things external. Only let a man always have a
right view within his own mind, no desires, no external objects will
ever defile him. This is the seeing into his Nature. O my friends,
have no fixed abode inside or outside,[f102] and your conduct will be
perfectly free and unfettered. Take away your attachment, and your walk
will know no obstructions whatever.... The ignorant will grow wise if
they abruptly get an understanding and open their hearts to the truth.
O my friends, even the Buddhas will be like us common mortals when
they have no enlightenment, and even we mortals will be Buddhas when
we are enlightened. Therefore we know that all things are in our own
minds. Why do we not then instantly see into our own minds and find
there the truth of Suchness? In the _Sutra on the Moral Conduct of the
Bodhisattva_ we read that we are all pure in our Self-nature, and that
when we know our own minds we see into this Nature and all attain to
Buddhahood. Says the _Vimalakīrti Sūtra_, ‘An instant opening leads
us into the Original Mind.’ O my good friends, while under my master
Jên, I realised the truth the moment I heard him speak and had an
instant [i.e. abrupt] glimpse into the true essence of Suchness. This
is the reason why I now endeavour by means of this doctrine to lead
truth-seekers to an instant [i.e. abrupt] realisation of Bodhi. When
you by yourselves look into your minds, you perceive at once what the
Original Nature is....
“Those who know by themselves do not look for anything external. If
they adhere to the view that liberation comes through external aid,
through the office of a good wise friend, they are entirely at fault.
Why? There is a knower in your own mind and it is this that makes you
realise the truth by yourselves. When confusion reigns in you and false
views are entertained, no amount of teaching by others, good wise
friends of yours, will be of use for your salvation. When on the other
hand your genuine Prajñā shines forth, all your confused thoughts will
vanish in an instant. Knowing thus what your Self-Nature is, you reach
Buddhahood by this single understanding, one knowledge.”
3. When the seeing into Self-Nature is emphasised and intuitive
understanding is upheld against learning and philosophising,
we know that as one of its logical conclusions the old view of
meditation begins to be looked down as merely a discipline in mental
tranquillisation. And this was exactly the case with the sixth
patriarch. Since the beginning of Buddhism there have been two currents
of thought concerning the meaning of meditation: the one was, like
Arāda and Udraka who were the two teachers of the Buddha, to take it
for suspending all psychic activities or for wiping consciousness
clean of all its modes; and the other was to regard meditation simply
as the most efficacious means for coming in touch with the ultimate
reality. This fundamental difference of views with regard to meditation
was a cause of the unpopularity at first of Bodhi-Dharma among the
Chinese Buddhists, scholars and dhyana-masters of the time. It was
also a factor of divergence between the Niu-t‘ou school of Zen and
the orthodox teaching of the fourth patriarch, as well as between
the Northern and the Southern school of Zen Buddhism after the fifth
patriarch. Hui-nêng, the sixth patriarch, came out as a strong
advocate of intuitionalism and refused to interpret the meaning of
dhyana statically, as it were. For the Mind according to him at the
highest stage of meditation was not a mere being, mere abstraction
devoid of content and work. He wanted to grasp something which lay
at the foundation of all his activities mental and physical, and
this something could not be a mere geometrical point, it must be the
source of energy and knowledge. Hui-nêng did not forget that the will
was after all the ultimate reality and that enlightenment was to be
understood as more than intellection, more than quietly contemplating
the truth. The Mind or Self-Nature was to be apprehended in the midst
of its working or functioning. The object of dhyana was thus not to
stop the working of Self-Nature but to make us plunge right into its
stream and seize it in the very act. His intuitionalism was dynamic. In
the following dialogues both Hui-nêng and his disciples are still using
the older terminology but the import of this parley is illustrative of
the point I want to specify.
Hsüan-chiao first studied T‘ien-tai philosophy and later while reading
the _Vimalakīrti_ he discovered his Self-Nature. Being advised to
see the sixth patriarch in order to have his experience certified or
testified, he came to Tsao-ch‘i. He walked around the master three
times and erecting his staff straight stood before him. Said the
master, “Monks are supposed to observe three hundred rules of conduct
and eighty thousand minor ones; whence comest thou, so full of pride?”
“Birth-and-death is a matter of grave concern, and time waits for
nobody!” said the T‘ien-tai philosopher.
“Why dost thou not grasp that which is birthless and see into that
which is timeless?” the master demanded.
“Birthless is that which grasps, and timeless is that which sees into.”
“That is so, that is so,” agreed the master.
When this was over, Hsüan-chiao came to Hui-nêng again in the full
attire of the Buddhist monk, and reverently bowing to the master wished
to take leave of him.
Said the master, “Why departest thou so soon?”
“There is from the very beginning no such thing as movement, and then
why talkest thou of being soon?”
“Who knows that there is no movement?” retorted the master.
“There,” exclaimed Hsüan-chiao, “thou makest a judgment thyself!”
“Thou truly comprehendest the intent of that which is birthless.”
“How could the birthless ever have an intent?” Hsüan-chiao asked.
“If there were no intent, who could ever judge?”
“Judgments are made with no intent whatever.” This was the conclusion
of Chiao.
The master then expressed his deep appreciation of Hsüan-chiao’s view
on the subject, saying, “Well thou hast said!”[4.57]
Chih-huang was an adept in meditation which he studied under the
fifth patriarch. After twenty years’ discipline he thought he well
understood the purport of meditation or samadhi. Hsüan-ts‘ê, learning
his attainment, visited him and said, “What are you doing there?” “I
am entering into a samadhi.” “You speak of entering, but how do you
enter into samadhi—with a thought-ful mind or with a thought-less
mind? If you say with a thought-less mind, all non-sentient beings
such as plants or bricks could attain samadhi. If you say with a
thought-ful mind, all sentient beings could attain it.” “When I enter
into samadhi,” said Chih-huang, “I am not conscious of either being
thoughtful or being thoughtless.” “If you are conscious of neither,
you are right in samadhi all the while; why do you then talk at all
of entering into it or coming out of it? If however there is really
entering or coming out, it is not Great Samadhi.” Chih-huang did not
know how to answer. After a while he asked who was Hsüan-ts‘ê’s teacher
and what was his understanding of samadhi. Said Hsüan-ts‘ê,[4.58]
“Hui-nêng is my teacher, and according to him, [the ultimate truth]
lies mystically serene and perfectly quiet; substance and function
are not to be separated, they are of one Suchness. The five skandhas
are empty in their nature, and the six sense-objects have no
reality. [The truth knows of] neither entering nor going out, neither
being tranquil nor disturbed. Dhyana in essence has no fixed abode.
Without attaching yourself to an abode, be serene in dhyana. Dhyana
in essence is birthless; without attaching yourself to the thought of
birth [-and-death] think in dhyana. Have your mind like unto space and
yet have no thought of space.” Thus learning of the sixth patriarch’s
view on samadhi or dhyana, Chih-huang came to the master himself and
asked to be further enlightened. Said the patriarch, “What Hsüan-ts‘ê
told you is true. Have your mind like unto space and yet entertain in
it no thought of emptiness. Then the truth will have its full activity
unimpeded. Every movement of yours will come out of an innocent heart
and the ignorant and the wise will have an equal treatment in your
hands. Subject and object will lose their distinction, and essence and
appearance will be of one suchness. [When a world of absolute oneness
is thus realised,] you have attained to eternal samadhi.”
To make the position of the sixth patriarch on the subject of
meditation still clearer and more definite, let me quote another
incident from his _Platform Sutra_. A monk once made reference to a
gāthā composed by Wo-luan which read as follows [4.59]:
“I, Wo-luan, know a device
Whereby to blot out all my thoughts:
The objective world no more stirs the mind,
And daily matures my Enlightenment!”
Hearing this, the sixth patriarch remarked: “That is no enlightenment
but leads one into a state of bondage. Listen to my gāthā:
“I, Hui-nêng, know no device,
My thoughts are not suppressed:
The objective world ever stirs the mind,
And what is the use of maturing Enlightenment?”
These will be sufficient to show that Hui-nêng, the sixth patriarch,
was on the one hand no quietist, nor nihilist advocating the doctrine
of absolute emptiness, while on the other hand he was no idealist
either, in the sense of denying an objective world. His dhyana was full
of action, yet above a world of particulars, so long as it was not
carried away by it and in it.
4. Hui-nêng’s method of demonstrating the truth of Zen was purely
Chinese and not Indian. He did not resort to abstract terminology
nor to romantic mysticism. The method was direct, plain, concrete,
and highly practical. When the monk Ming came to him and asked for
instruction, he said, “Show me your original face before you were
born.” Is not the statement quite to the point? No philosophic
discourse, no elaborate reasoning, no mystic imagery, but a direct
unequivocal dictum. In this the sixth patriarch cut the first turf and
his disciples quickly and efficiently followed in his steps. Notice how
brilliantly Lin-chi made use of this method in his sermon on a “true
man of no title.” (See the “Introduction.”)
To give another instance. When Hui-nêng saw Huai-jang, of Nan-yüeh, he
said, “Whence comest thou?” which was followed by “What is it that so
cometh?”[4.60] It took for Huai-jang eight long years to answer the
question satisfactorily. Afterwards this way of questioning became
almost an established form of greeting with Zen masters. Nan-yüan asked
a newly arrived monk, “Whence comest thou?” “I am from Han-shang.”
Said the master, “You are at fault as much as I am.”[4.61] Hsiang-yên
asked San-shêng, “Whence comest thou?” “From Lin-chi.” “Bringest thou
his sword?” San-shêng took up his seat-cloth (_tso-chu_) and struck
Hsiang-yên across his mouth and went away.[4.62] The Venerable Ch‘en
asked a monk, “Whence comest thou?” “From Yang-shan.” “Thou art a
liar!” was the verdict of the master.[4.63] Another time he asked
another monk, “Whence comest thou?” “From West of the River, sir.” “How
many sandals hast thou worn out?” This monk had evidently a gentler
treatment.
This difference of method between the Indian and the Chinese often
raised the question as to the difference, if there be, between the
“Tathagata Dhyana” and the “Patriarchal Dhyana.” For instance, when
Hsiang-yên showed his song of poverty to Yang-shan, the latter said,
“You understand the Tathagata Dhyana but not yet the Patriarchal
Dhyana.” When asked about the difference, Mu-chou replied, “The
green mountains are green mountains, and the white clouds are white
clouds.”[4.64]