Kingyū Calls the Bodhisattvas to Eat

Engo's commentary on the case

Kingyū was a venerable in Baso's line. Whenever mealtime came, he personally carried the rice bucket, danced before the monks' hall, laughed loudly, and called, “Bodhisattva children, come eat!” He did this for twenty years. Tell me: where did his intent lie? If it were merely called eating, the ordinary striking of the wooden fish and beating of the drum already announced it. Why did he further have to carry the bucket himself and make so many devices? Was he mad? Was he raising and establishing a teaching? If he was raising this matter, why not mount the jeweled-flower royal seat, strike the platform, and raise the whisk? Why insist on acting this way? People today entirely fail to know that the ancients' intent lay beyond the words. Why not examine what the patriarch's initial theme said? Clearly: “A separate transmission outside the teaching, singly transmitting the mind-seal.” The ancients' expedients only taught you to undertake directly. Later people speculate: “There are not so many matters. When cold, face the fire; when hot, enjoy the cool; when hungry, eat; when tired, sleep.” If one annotates it through ordinary feeling this way, Bodhidharma's lineage is swept from the earth.² They do not know that throughout the twelve periods of the day the ancients never abandoned it thought by thought and sought to clarify this matter. Setchō said, “Even so, Kingyū did not have good intentions.” How many people misunderstand this one phrase! As the saying goes, “The finest flavor of ghee is treasured by the world; when it meets people of this kind, it instead becomes poison.” Since Kingyū descended into the weeds to act for people, why did Setchō say he did not have good intentions? Why speak this way? The patch-robed monk's house must possess living capacity. People today do not reach the ancients' ground. They only say, “What mind is there to see? What buddha is there?” This interpretation ruins old adept Kingyū. One must look carefully. If one merely becomes a little quick-tongued from one day to the next, there is no end. Later Changqing ascended the hall. A monk asked the intent of “Bodhisattva children, come eat!” Changqing said, “It greatly resembles offering praise on the occasion of a ritual meal.” The venerable was excessively compassionate and leaked quite a bit. Indeed, it was praise on the occasion of a meal—but tell me: what did he praise and celebrate? See Setchō's verse: “Within the shadow of white clouds, he laughs, ‘Ha! Ha!’” Changqing said, “Praise on the occasion of a ritual meal.” Setchō says, “Holding it in both hands, he comes and gives it to them.” Tell me: does he merely give them food, or is there something else extraordinary? If you know the precise point here, you are a golden-maned lion cub. If you are such a cub, you do not need Kingyū to carry the bucket, dance, and laugh. Directly from three thousand miles away, you know where his failure is exposed. An ancient said, “Discernment lies before the mechanism; it does not require even one squeeze.” Therefore a patch-robed monk ordinarily must function beyond the standard before being called a lineage teacher of the original share. If one relies only on language, one cannot avoid leaking.