Chapter 254 — The Bodhi Heart of Compassion
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 2 of 4
" Monk Chenghuai said woodenly, "My whole body is full of openings.
. . " The general laughed: "A body full of openings - that's a fine thing; who does not have a few openings?
Only the man who knows his own openings can be called a master.
You have skill.
Come along with me - we are going to guard the seedlings.
These refugees gnaw even at the turf; we can't have them stripping the newly planted grain as well.
Men, burn this temple down!
" The soldiers set fire to it, and soon the temple was ablaze. Monk Chenghuai nodded, then faltered, and suddenly rushed frantically into the flames: "My sutra! " The general ordered his men to hold him back and said, "What sutra? How thick is it?
" "Only two pages.
" "In this freezing cold, a sutra that thin isn't even enough to warm you at the fire.
" The general raised one finger, with a compassion for the world in his eyes: "So long as we can bring in one season's harvest, and the people under heaven have food and no longer go hungry, then this human world will be a human world and not a hell.
That is why guarding the seedlings is of the utmost importance - they must not be ruined by the refugees!
Once the world is at peace, you can read your Buddhist scriptures again. Then I will give you a whole basket of scriptures - read whichever one you please!
" Monk Chenghuai stood stunned.
Only when the world was at peace could one read scriptures? Then how could these scriptures rescue the suffering and deliver all living beings?
If they were useless in a time of chaos, of what use were they for saving the suffering and delivering all beings only after peace had already come? "Hierarch Shen was not wrong - the one who wrote the scriptures was indeed not the Tathagata.
" In his hempen robe and straw sandals, his pristine clerical garment now stained with blood, Monk Chenghuai departed with that band of soldiers: "From this day on, I am my own Tathagata - I shall write my own scriptures! " The Great Thunderclap Temple. The bell sounded long and slow; Shen Mu looked west, where lay the wasteland sunk deep in calamity, and he looked east, where lay Jingping in the grip of the snow disaster.
The Great Thunderclap Temple sat wedged between the two, spared from disaster, spared from tribulation - a good place indeed, where the monks on the mountain, free of every care, devoted their single minds to the study of the Dharma, untroubled by any catastrophe. "The Great Thunderclap Temple has more than four thousand halls," said Old Master Huo. "The Hall of Heavenly Dragons and the Heart Zen Hall are among the higher-ranking halls.
Each hall is responsible for different matters, and what is awakened there differs accordingly. If a disciple is exceptionally gifted, he is taught by a white-browed monk and need not wander from hall to hall.
Take that Monk Chenghuai, for instance - he was instructed solely by Monk Jingming and cultivated under his master's guidance; these are for the most part the most outstanding of the monks.
And those with the highest aptitude, insight, and Buddha-nature are taught directly by the Tathagata himself. " Shen Mu looked down and saw the mountain peaks like lotus petals encircling the golden summit at the center - a thousand temples, ten thousand monasteries, the smoke of incense rising thick and prosperous. "The Great Thunderclap Temple does indeed have its strengths," Shen Mu nodded. "In instructing disciples it shares common ground with the Imperial Tutor of Jingping.
" Old Master Huo led them on a tour toward a Buddhist pagoda of imposing grandeur, saying, "In the Hall of All Heavens, the first heaven is the Hall of King Yama; the second heaven is the Hall of Sagara, the Dragon King - they embody the successive states of mind of the Thunderclap Mahayana Sutra.
At the very top are the Hall of Shakra and the Hall of Great Brahma. If one counts from the top down, the Hall of Great Brahma is the first heaven.