Seigen Gyōshi and Luling Rice

Keizan's commentary

The teacher was a son of the Liu family in Ancheng, Jizhou. He entered monastic life when young. Whenever the community gathered to debate the way, the teacher alone remained silent. Later, hearing of the Dharma assembly at Sōkei, he went to practice and bow there. He asked, “What should I undertake so as not to fall into stages and ranks?” and continued through the encounter until the ancestor deeply recognized him. Though students were numerous in Huineng's assembly, the teacher stood foremost. It was like the Second Ancestor saying nothing at Shōrin and being called the one who attained the marrow. One day the ancestor told him, “From ancient times robe and Dharma traveled together and were handed down from teacher to disciple. The robe demonstrated trust; Dharma sealed heart. “Now the seal has found a person. Why worry that people will not trust it? Since receiving the robe, I have encountered many difficulties. How much more competition will arise in later generations. “The robe will remain to guard the monastery gate. You must divide off and teach one region, not letting the succession be cut off.” After attaining Dharma, the teacher lived at Jingju Monastery on Seigen Mountain in Jizhou. He taught alongside Sōkei. After he received Sekitō, those who cast themselves beneath Sōkei's scales came in great numbers, one after another. This was Huineng's radiance especially. On the thirteenth day of the twelfth month in 740, the teacher ascended the hall, addressed the assembly, crossed his legs, and died. He was later given the title Great Master Hongji, “Vast Aid.”³ When others gathered to debate the way, his silence was distinct practice, unlike the crowd. Through the power of such investigation and care, he came to Sōkei and asked, “What should I undertake so as not to fall into stages and ranks?” He had truly seen in detail and possessed no place toward which to aim. The ancestor wished to make him immediately strike and expose his realization and therefore asked, “What have you been doing?” In the end the awl did not remain inside the bag. Its point emerged at once: “I do not even practice the holy truths.” This is hearing what is difficult to hear and meeting what is difficult to meet.⁴ Even when direction and pursuit cease, there may still remain a portion that maintains the self. If you stay there, you mistakenly fall into the deep pit of liberation. Ancient and modern teachers call this Dharma-attachment; Unmon called it the two illnesses of the Dharma-body. But Xingsi not only directly accepted his original share; he passed through the barrier. Therefore the ancestor asked, “Into what stage or rank do you fall?” At the darkly subtle place, inside and outside do not remain. At the deepest limit, knife and axe have never been able to split it open. Therefore he said, “What stages could there be?” He penetrated this ground without obscurity and investigated it to exhaustion. Therefore he said, “I do not even practice the holy truths. What stages could there be?” Even if you wished to establish stages, empty space originally has no boundary. Where could a ladder be arranged? Those who explain meaning by clinging to words have long fallen here into the view that all dharmas are empty and understood the myriad dharmas to be extinguished. But he already says that he does not even practice the holy truths. How could he remain in the emptiness of dharmas? Look with exact care. This empty-bright ground is clearer than the blazing sun. This numinously open true nature is not discriminative understanding, yet it possesses lucid, perfectly bright wisdom. Though it bears no bones and marrow, it possesses a brightly manifest body that is not concealed. This body cannot be distinguished by movement and stillness, and this wisdom cannot be distinguished by conscious knowing. Because conscious knowing is also this wisdom, movement and stillness are not other. Therefore even bodhisattvas who pass through the stages to the tenth ground do not yet see buddha-nature with perfect clarity. Why? The Buddha says it is because they still retain Dharma-nature and establish a place of practice. Buddhas finally have no place of practice and no ground of nature, and therefore see buddha-nature lucidly. The eighth fascicle of the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra, in the chapter on the arising of tathāgata-nature, says that innumerable bodhisattvas may perfect the pāramitās and reach the ten abodes yet still not see all of buddha-nature; even at the tenth stage they do not know and see it clearly, much less śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas.⁵ When you do not depend upon seeing and hearing or condition object and wisdom against one another, look beneath them. There is necessarily an alert wisdom that asks no one. Without noticing it, you may realize and accord. For the moment, how can words be placed upon this encounter? Reaching this ground, if you can place a word on it, you will make a person without a tongue speak intelligibly. If you can hear this principle, you will immediately make someone without an ear-faculty hear and retain it, and cause that person to nod, speak, and laugh.