Denkōroku · PROJECT CASE 18
Sanghanandi and the Bell
The Record of the Transmission of the Light
Transmission case
The Seventeenth Ancestor was Venerable Saṅghanandi. Venerable Rāhulata instructed him in verse: Because I am already without I, You must see the I in my “I.” Since you take me as teacher, Know that my I is not the I of “I.”1 The teacher heard this. His heart and intention opened completely, and he immediately asked for liberation and ordination.
Keizan's verse
The workings of heart turn smoothly, taking the form of heart; How many faces does “I-I” bring?6
Footnotes 6
- The repeated 我 can be parsed several ways. Keizan's commentary treats it as productive paradox: an “I” is encountered precisely where selfhood is denied, without installing an ordinary ego or a simple metaphysical Self. ↩
- The heavenly road, twenty-one-day samādhi, sweet river, and five buddha reflections are lineage hagiography. ↩
- The exchange crosses “my” and “your” meaning through 無我, no-I. Its purpose is enacted by grammar: neither participant owns the principle, yet one person's no-I lets the other's meaning form. ↩
- The past-buddha identity, Brahmā meal, cosmic reach, and nectar water function as miraculous proofs within the narrative. Keizan himself makes trust in power rather than true thusness part of the episode's criticism. ↩
- Buddhism had been present in Japan for centuries by Keizan's time. “Fifty or sixty years” most plausibly counts the specific Sōtō transmission associated with Dōgen rather than Buddhism generally; the wording requires historical-source comparison. ↩
- The verse's 心機 is the active mechanism or working of heart. 我我 asks how many differentiated faces the repeated “I” can assume. ↩
About this version and its sources
- Full source citation
- Source heading: 僧伽難提尊者. Base: SAT T2585, T2585_.82.0364b13–T2585_.82.0365c11. Project Case 18 corresponds to source ancestral chapter 17.
- Method
- Direct critical-edition translation from the cited received base text. Source claims, hagiography, uncertainty, and unresolved readings remain identified in the notes and project record.
- Editorial uncertainty
- Independent philological and reader review remain pending.
- Rights
- Project translation © Tulsa Zen Center Critical Edition contributors. Source text is cited by edition; redistribution policy requires final organizational approval.
- Revision identifier
- 095564219b45
Keizan's commentary
The teacher was a son of King Jeweled Adornment in Śrāvastī. He could speak from birth and constantly praised the work of the Buddha. At seven he tired of worldly pleasures and addressed his parents in verse: I bow my head to my greatly compassionate father And make reverence to my mother of flesh and blood. I now wish to leave home; In compassion, please grant my request. His parents firmly stopped him, so he refused food all day. They then allowed him to “leave home while remaining at home,” gave him the name Saṅghanandi, and appointed a monk named Dhyān利多 as his teacher. For nineteen years he never retreated or tired. But he often thought, “My body lives in the royal palace. How is this leaving home?” One evening heavenly light descended. He happened to see a level road and unconsciously followed it at a slow pace. After about ten miles he reached a great cliff with a stone cave and entered stillness there. When the king lost his son, he banished Dhyān利多 and sent people through the country to search, but they did not know where Saṅghanandi was. Ten years passed. Venerable Rāhulata traveled to teach in Śrāvastī. A river called Golden Water flowed there, exceptionally sweet, and the reflections of five buddhas appeared midstream. Rāhulata told the assembly, “Five hundred miles from here, at this river's source, lives a sage named Saṅghanandi. The Buddha predicted that after one thousand years he would succeed to the rank of sages.” He led the students upstream. When they arrived, they found Saṅghanandi sitting peacefully in samādhi. Rāhulata and the assembly waited. After twenty-one days, he emerged.2 Rāhulata asked, “Is your body settled in samādhi, or is your heart settled?” The teacher said, “Body and heart are both settled.” Rāhulata said, “If body and heart are both settled, how can there be entering and leaving?” In truth, if body and heart are settled, how can there be entry and exit? If you cultivate concentration by turning toward body and heart, this is not yet genuine samādhi. If it is not genuine, there will be entry and exit; if there is entry and exit, it cannot be called samādhi. Do not seek body and heart within the place of samādhi. Zen investigation is dropping body and heart from the beginning. What will you call body? What will you call heart? The teacher said, “Although there is entering and leaving, the form of samādhi is not lost. It is like gold in a well: the substance of gold is always still.” Rāhulata said, “Whether gold is in the well or has come out of the well, gold has no movement or stillness. What enters and leaves?” If the gold possessed motion and stillness and had a place of exit and a place of entry, it would not be genuine gold. But Saṅghanandi still did not penetrate this principle. The teacher said, “If you say gold moves or is still, what enters and leaves? You allow gold to enter and leave, yet gold is not motion or stillness.” To say that gold has no motion or stillness but has entry and exit still preserves two views. Rāhulata therefore said, “If the gold comes out of the well, what comes out is not gold. If the gold remains after coming out, what is that thing?” Nothing is finally released inward or outward. When it comes out, it comes out completely; when it enters, it enters completely. How can it be “in the well” or “out of the well”? Thus, “what comes out is not gold; what is the thing that remains?” The teacher did not reach the principle and said, “If the gold comes out of the well, what remains is not gold. If it remains in the well, it is not the thing that came out.” These words truly did not know the nature of gold. Rāhulata said, “This meaning is not so.” Although Saṅghanandi seemed to penetrate principle within samādhi, he still retained views of object and self. The teacher said, “Your principle is not attached.” Yet this meaning lacked reality, like a light feather following the wind. Rāhulata said, “This meaning must fall.” Following the teacher's own words, Saṅghanandi said, “Your meaning does not form.” Because Rāhulata's great compassion was deep, he said again, “Your meaning does not form; my meaning has formed.” But Saṅghanandi carelessly understood no-self and said, “Although my meaning has formed, Dharma is not I.” Rāhulata said, “My meaning has already formed, because I am no-I.” The teacher asked, “Because I am no-I, what meaning forms?” Rāhulata said intimately, to make him know himself, “Because I am no-I, your meaning forms.”3 In truth, the four elements are not I and the five aggregates never possessed independent existence. Saṅghanandi considered and distinguished a little that there is an I precisely where there is no-I. To show that the way between teacher and heir is not reckless, he asked, “From what sage did you learn this no-I?” Rāhulata said, “My teacher, the great being Kāṇadeva, realized this no-I.” The teacher said: I bow my head to Teacher Deva, Who has emerged through you, worthy one. Because you are without I, I wish to take you as teacher. Rāhulata answered with the verse of the present case. A person who sees the genuine I does not retain even self. How could any of the ten thousand dharmas obstruct the eye? Seeing, hearing, awareness, and knowing are finally not divided, and not one event or dharma is separated. Ordinary and holy therefore have no barrier, and the way of teacher and heir accords. Seeing this principle is called buddhas and ancestors meeting. Self is made teacher, and teacher is made self. Axe and blade cannot split it. Because this principle suddenly opened and accorded, Saṅghanandi immediately asked for liberation and ordination. Rāhulata said, “Your heart is free. It is not something I bind.” After speaking, Rāhulata lifted a gold bowl in his right hand to Brahmā's palace, took fragrant rice, and brought it back to feed the assembly. The assembly suddenly felt disgust. Rāhulata said, “This is not my fault. It is your own karma.” He ordered Saṅghanandi to share his seat and eat with him. The assembly was surprised. Rāhulata said, “Your inability to eat is entirely because of this person. Know that the one sharing my seat is the past Tathāgata King of the Śāla Tree, who has lowered his traces out of compassion for beings. During the Adornment Kalpa, all of you reached the third fruit but did not realize the undefiled.” The assembly said, “Our teacher's spiritual power can be trusted. But when he calls that person a past buddha, we privately doubt it.” The teacher knew their pride and said, “While the World-Honored One lived, the world was level and even, without hills. Rivers, channels, and ditches were all sweet. Grasses and trees flourished, countries were abundant, people lacked the eight sufferings and practiced the ten wholesome actions. “More than eight hundred years after his extinction between the twin trees, the world has become mounds and ruins, trees have withered, and people lack perfect trust. Right mindfulness is slight. They do not trust true thusness and love only spiritual power.” After speaking, he slowly extended his right hand into the earth as far as the boundary of the adamantine wheel, drew up nectar water, and brought it to the assembly in a crystal vessel. Everyone saw it, submitted, and repented.4 How regrettable: only eight hundred years after the Tathāgata's lifetime things were already like this. How much more in the present age, centuries later. People scarcely hear the name Buddha-Dharma and do not distinguish what its principle could be. Because no body and heart arrive there, no one asks what it is. Even if they obtain a little of the principle, they do not maintain it. Even if a teacher with great compassion admonishes them and they gain a little awareness and understanding, laziness invades them and they have no genuine trust and comprehension. Because there are no genuine people of the way, no one genuinely raises the mind. We have met such a time because the latter age is shallow and our former karma poor. Shame and regret are more than sufficient. Yet consider: though pitiable as teacher and heir, you have been born within true and semblance Dharma. Buddha-Dharma gradually traveled east. By the final Dharma, our country had heard the Tathāgata's true teaching for only fifty or sixty years. This could be called the very beginning of the matter. Wherever Buddha-Dharma reaches, it always flourishes.5 All of you, practice vigorously and raise resolve. Do not make ego into ego. Directly realize no-I and swiftly obtain no-heart. Do not be confined by the constructions of body and heart, sealed within feelings of delusion and awakening, detained in the cave of birth and death, or tied by a rope between beings and buddhas. Know that there is an I which has never changed from measureless ages through the furthest future. To this I append a word: