Chōsa Advances a Step

Banshō's commentary on the case

Great Master Zhaoxian of Chōsa in Hunan, personal name Jingcen: Juefan said this Zen master was a grandson of Daji, a son of Nansen, and an elder brother of Jōshū. Even as stubborn a patch-robed monk as Kyōzan deferred to him and called him “Cen the Tiger.”³ Chōsa ascended the hall and said: “If I exclusively promoted the ancestral teaching, grass would grow a zhang deep in the Dharma hall. Since the matter cannot be avoided, I tell you people: “The entire world in the ten directions is the renunciant's eye. The entire world in the ten directions is the renunciant's whole body. The entire world in the ten directions is one's own radiance. The entire world in the ten directions lies within one's own radiance. Throughout the entire world in the ten directions, there is no person who is not oneself. “I constantly tell you people that the buddhas of the three times together with beings throughout the Dharma realm are the light of great prajna. Before that light issues, where do you beings locate yourselves? Before the light issues, there is not yet any news of buddha or being. From where could mountains, rivers, and lands arise?”⁴ Chōsa sent a monk to question Hermit Hui. Hui was one of Nansen's followers who never appeared publicly, a person of hidden accord and secret realization. Lamp records place him at the end among those with no encounter sayings. But since this exchange exists, making a separate biography for him would not be excessive. The monk went as a special envoy, conveying Chōsa's instruction: “What about before the hermit met Nansen?” Hui was silent. The monk pressed, “What about after meeting Nansen?” Hui said, “There still cannot be anything different.” Banshō says: Once dead, he does not live again. The monk returned and reported this to Chōsa. Chōsa recited the verse, “A person sitting at the top of a hundred-foot pole—though having gained entry, it is not yet true.” This has the same illness as Gantō saying Seppō did not understand Tokusan's final phrase. Banshō often tells people: it is very much like someone who sells in one contract the ancestral household, its property, dependents, and even himself, and buys a crystal bottle. All day he follows its shape and guards it like his own eyes. Do not let Banshō see it. I will certainly crush it, make him let his hands go and swing his arms, and become an uninhibited, joyous fellow.⁵ Shengmo said: Let go with both hands beneath the hanging cliff; divide the body among the ten thousand forms. Only then—“the mountains of Langzhou, the waters of Lizhou,” and “the four seas and five lakes within the king's transforming rule”—can be paired with Tendō's water buffalo dragging the plow and pulling the harrow. Tendō attained samadhi beyond convention. He omits the hermit's place of clutching the pole tightly and not daring to move. Stir that place: if one continued exclusively in this way, grass would grow a zhang deep in the Dharma hall. A person attached to the view of the body sought ordination or liberation from the ancestor Upagupta. The ancestor said, “The method of seeking liberation requires trusting my words and not violating my instruction.” The person said, “Since I have come to entrust myself to the teacher, of course I will obey.” The ancestor then conjured a dangerous cliff, a mountain rising with tall trees, and ordered him to climb a tree. Beneath it he conjured a vast pit a thousand cubits deep. He ordered the man to release his feet, and the man obeyed, letting both feet go. He told him to release one hand, and he did. He ordered him to release the other. The man answered, “If I release the other hand, I will fall into the pit and die.” The ancestor said, “You previously agreed to obey. Why do you violate my word?” At that moment the man's attachment to his body disappeared. He let go, fell, saw neither tree nor pit, and immediately realized the fruit of the Way.² Chōsa's “mountains of Langzhou, waters of Lizhou” is called skillfully using the phrase of the dangerous cliff. Without the jade person breaking the dream and discovering another livelihood, how could there be brand-new sun and moon throughout the four seas and five lakes? The Book of Odes says, “Gentle, gentle, the valley wind,” urging forth the awakening of hibernating creatures. In the first seasonal interval after the spring equinox, thunder begins to sound. The praise appended to Li Guang's biography in the Book of Han says, “The peach and plum trees do not speak, yet beneath them a path forms of itself.” The Record of the Mirror of the Teaching says, “When one contains virtuous conduct, trust arises without speech, as a path forms of itself beneath peach and plum trees.”⁶ “Mountains of Langzhou, waters of Lizhou” is also an affair on the side of dragging through mud and carrying water. While Sanshō was in Chōsa's assembly, he had senior monk Xiu ask Chōsa, “Where did Nansen go after his transformation?” Chōsa said, “When Sekitō was a novice, he visited the Daikan Enō.” Xiu said, “I am not asking about Sekitō visiting the Daikan Enō as a novice. Where did Nansen go after his transformation?” Chōsa said, “I will let you think about it.” Xiu said, “The venerable has only a thousand-foot winter pine, but no stone shoot putting out a branch.” Chōsa did not answer. Xiu said, “Thank you, teacher, for answering.” Chōsa again did not answer. Xiu reported this to Sanshō. Sanshō said, “If it is truly thus, it still surpasses Rinzai by seven steps.” Sanshō personally went to the abbot's quarters and said, “The venerable's answer this morning can be called illuminating what came before and cutting off what comes after.” Chōsa did not answer. Sanshō said, “I have always suspected this fellow.” Foyin's verse says: A guest sees Chōsa as sharing the road of a stranger; he makes someone approximately probe the family style. Mount Sumeru, ten thousand fathoms, grinds past and present; breaking grass to measure heaven is effort spent in vain.⁷ Where the ancients held fast, they could release and move—advancing from the pole's top. When they released and moved, they could hold firm, standing like a wall a thousand fathoms high. Why were they so free? Hunan city is good at nurturing its people: rice is cheap, firewood plentiful, enough for all four neighbors.