User:JeremiP
From ancient times, the origin of "tathāgata", which has been usually translated as 如 來 (one who comes thus), is not unknown. This has been used as the title of Buddha, chiefly in Buddhism from the start.
Now, I will consider the meaning of "tathāgata" in the Abhisamayālaṃkārālokā Prajñāpāramitā-vyākhyā of Haribhadra (ed. by Wogihara) (W.). This includes the Aṣṭasāhasrikā-Prajñāpāramitā-sūtra (As.), Maitreya's Abhisamayālaṃkāraśāstra-kārikā (A.) which is a summary of the Pañcaviṃśatisāhasrikā-Prajñāpāramitā-sūtra (P.), and Haribhadra's commentary which is based on the P. and the As. Accordingly at first, I point out sentences of "tathāgata", which I think as the etymological explanations, and then survey the character of it. (Mano, "'Tathāgata' in Haribhadra's Commentary," 22)
What makes gZhon nu dpal's DhDhV-commentary so interesting is his mahāmudrā interpretation of a central topic in the DhDhV, i.e., the abandonment of all "mentally created characteristic signs" (nimittas). The latter practice plays a crucial role in the cultivation of non-conceptual wisdom, which is taken as the cause or the foundation of āśrayaparivŗtti in the DhDhV. Based on Sahajavajra's (11th century) Tattvadaśakaţīkā gZhon nu dpal explains that the nimittas are abandoned by directly realizing their natural luminosity which amounts to a direct or non-conceptual experience of their true nature. To be sure, while the usual Mahāyāna approach involves an initial analysis of the nimittas, namely, an analytic meditation which eventually turns into non-conceptual abiding in the same way as a fire kindled from rubbing pieces of wood bums the pieces of wood themselves (gZhon nu dpal explains this on the basis of Kamalaśīla's commentary on the Nirvikalpapraveśadhāraņī), mahāmudrā pith-instructions enable a meditation of direct perceptions right from the beginning. In view of the fact that such direct perceptions of emptiness (or dharmatā in this context here) usually start from the first Bodhisattva-level onwards, gZhon nu dpal also tries to show that the four yogas of mahāmudrā are in accordance with the four prayogas of the DhDhV. It should be noted that such a mahāmudrā interpretation must have already existed in India, as can be seen from Jñānakīrti's (10th/11th-century) Tattvāvatāra, in which a not-specifically-Tantric form of mahāmudrā practice is related with the traditional fourfold Mahāyāna meditation by equating "Mahāyāna" in Lańkāvatārasūtra X.257d with mahāmudrā. The pādas X.257cd "A yogin who is established in a state without appearances sees Mahāyāna" thus mean that one finally sees or realizes mahāmudrā.
To sum up, the DhDhV plays an important role for gZhon nu dpal in that it provides a canonical basis for his mahāmudrā tradition, and by showing that the dharmatā portion of the DhDhV is a commentary on the second chapter of the RGV, gZhon nu dpal skillfully links his mahāmudrā interpretation to the standard Indian work on Buddha-nature, and thus to a concept which considerably facilitated the bridging of the Sūtras with the Tantras. (Source Accessed April 1, 2020)
We will begin with a survey of modern Sanskritists' attempts at identifying nien and why such attempts have ultimately failed. Then we will look at a similar attempt by the AFMS to edit off the nien ideology and how by so doing it violated the integrity of the original AFM message. The sinitic meaning of the term nien and wu-nien will be demonstrated with precedents in Han thought, usages in the Six Dynasties and in Ch'an.k I will conclude with a word on why AFMS was produced. (Lai, "A Clue to the Authorship of the Awakening of Faith," 34–35)
The term ' ārambaṇa ' is one of the technical terms unique to Buddhism. Being equivalent to Pali ' ārammaṇa ' and Cl. Skt. ' ālambana ' it is usually used in the sense of 'basis of cognition' or 'sense-object', e.g. rūpa as ārambaṇa of cakṣurvijñāna, or dharma as that of manovijñāna. The usual equivalent to this term in Tibetan and Chinese language is ' dmigs pa ' and '所 縁', respectively.
What I am going to examine here is whether or not the same meaning mentioned above can be applied to this term used in the Ratnagotravibhāga (RGV), I, 9.
Read more here . . .
An encyclopedic author active during the reign of King Rāmapāla (ca. 1084–1126/1077–
ca. 1119) of the Pāla Dynasty, Abhayākaragupta is renowned for his erudition in a vast range of subjects in Buddhism.[1] His expertise is especially prominent in, though not limited to, the area of Tantric Buddhism, as attested by the well-known "Garland Trilogy" (phreng ba skor gsum), i.e. his three major works on Tantric ritual (Vajrāvalī, Jyotirmañjarī, and Niṣpannayogāvalī), which exercised a great influence on the Buddhism of the later period in Nepal and Tibet.
The Peking bsTan 'gyur includes twenty-six works ascribed to Abhayākaragupta, of which twenty-three are in the domain of Tantra; the other three deal with non-Tantric Buddhism.[2] Though most of these works are only available through Tibetan translation, some important texts of Abhayākaragupta are preserved in Sanskrit. The following works in Sanskrit have hitherto been edited: Niṣpannayogāvalī; Vajrāvalī; Jyotimañjarī; Ucchuṣmajambhalasādhana; Svādhiṣṭhānakramopadeśa.[3] In addition, Sanskrit manuscripts are known to exist of the Pañcakramatātparyapañjikā Kramakaumudī, Kālacakrāvatāra, and Abhayapaddhati.[4] According to some recent information, furthermore, Sanskrit manuscripts of the Āmnāyamañjarī, Munimatālaṅkāra and Madhyamakamañjarī[5] have been discovered in Tibet [6]
The Amnāyamañjarī, which may be called the magnum opus of Abhayākaragupta, is a commentary on the Saṃpuṭodbhavatantra and an encyclopedic compendium of Indian Tantric Buddhism. According to Bühnemann, Abhayākaragupta undertook the composition of the Amnāyamañjarī before 1101 or 1108 C.E. (twenty-fifth regnal year of Rāmapāla) and completed it in 1113 or 1120 C.E (thirty-seventh year of Rāmapāla). As has been remarked,[7] the Saṃpuṭodbhavatantra, though traditionally considered to be an Explanatory Tantra (vyākhyātantra) of the Hevajra and Saṃvara cycles, integrates many doctrinal and ritual elements adopted from several heterogeneous textual traditions such as that of the Guhyasamāja. Because of this "ecumenical" character of the Saṃpuṭodbhavatantra, the Amnāyamañjarī as its commentary also encompasses a great variety of subjects relating to the doctrine and ritual of Tantric Buddhism. The Amnāyamañjarī is referred to several times by Abhayākaragupta himself in his other works, such as the Munimatālaṅkāra,
Abhayapaddhati, Pañcakramatātparyapañjikā, and Vajrāvalī.[8] In turn, the Āmnāyamañjarī
refers to his other works [9]
Though, as remarked above, the existence of a presumably complete Sanskrit manuscript of the Āmnāyamañjarī has been reported, it still remains inaccessible to us. However, a single folio fragment of this text has been recently identified in the collection of Sanskrit manuscripts in Göttingen. In this paper, we describe this manuscript fragment and present a critical edition and an annotated translation of the text contained in it. We also include as appendices an edition of the corresponding part of the Tibetan translation as well as parallel passages found in Kamalanātha's Ratnāvalī and Abhayākaragupta's Abhayapaddhati. (Tomabechi and Kano, Abhayākaragupta and the Āmnāyamañjarī, 22–23)
Notes
- For the dates and works of Abhayākaragupta, see Erb 1997: 27–29: Bühnemann and Tachikawa 1991: Bühnemann 1992.
- For bibliographical information on these works, see Bühnemann 1992: 123–125.
- The Svādhiṣṭhānakramopadeśa (or Dvibhujasaṃvaropadeśa) was edited by Okuyama (1993).
- The Centre for Tantric Studies at University of Hamburg is currently working on a joint project to the Abhayapaddhati in collaboration with CTRC (China Tibetology Research Centre). Tomabechi is preparing a critical edition of the Kramakaumudī based on the manuscript copy preserved at CTRC.
- The latter text is not included in the bsTan 'gyur, but is mentioned by Abhayākaragupta himself in the Munimatālaṅkāra, D 145v6; P 179r8: mdor bsdus pa ni kho bos dbu ma'i snye mar phul du byung bar rnam par bshad do; Āmnāyamañjarī, D 28r1; P 31r2–3: 'di'i skye ba dang 'jig pa de dag kyang dbu ma'i snye mar nges par dpyad zin pas (P: pa'i) ... ; D 76v7–77r1; P 86v2-3: thsad ma gang gis 'di rang bzhin med pa nyid du bsgrub pa de ni bdag cag gis rgyas pa dang bcas par dbu ma'i snye mar nye bar bkod cing; D 162r5–6; P 179v1: bzlog pa kho na las de kho na nyid 'di rnams so zhes dbu ma'i snye mar nges par dpyad zin to (P: te). See also Isoda 1984: 3 n. 14.
- These texts are registered in the (unpublished) catalogue of microfilms kept at the CTRC in Beijing. Tomabechi confirmed the existence of the copies of these manuscripts during his visit to Beijing in May–June 2007.
- Noguchi 1984 and Skorupski 1996: 201.
- See Munimatālaṅkāra, D 89r4; P 93v2, D 218r7; P 287r4, Kramakaumudī, fol. 22v4, 27r1, 53v4. For the Abhayapaddhati see Bühnemann and Tachikawa 1991: xiv and Bühnemann 1992:123; and for the Vajrāvalī, see Bühnemann and Tachikawa 1991: xvi and Bühnemann 1992: 125.
- Vajrāvalī (in ĀM D 72v3; P 82r2, D 97r1; P 108r7, D 188v7; P 208r5, D 24Or2; P 266v4, D 257v2; P 288r4, D 260r4; P 291r5–6), Jyotirmañjarī (in ĀM D 24Or2; P 266v3, D 260r3; P 291r4), Madhyamakamañjarī (in ĀM D 28r1; P 31r2–3, D 76v7-77r1; P 86v2–3, D 162r6; P 179v1; See note 6 above), Munimatālaṃkāra (in ĀM D 12r3; P 13v3, D 24v5; P 27v2, D 24v6; P 27v4, D 33v4; P 37v1–2, D 41v7–42r1; P 47r2, D 52r1; P 56r6, D 77r1; P 86v3, D 112v5–6); P 125r3, D 174v7; P 193r8, D 225v3; P 249r2, D 270r1–2; P 302v6), Abhayapaddhati (in ĀM D 77r1; P 86v2, D 209r2; P 229v8), Cakrasaṃvarābhisamaya (in ĀM D 172v6; P 191r6–7, D 242v3; P 269v7).
This paper focuses on his writings on the “hidden meaning of luminosity”. According to Chos grags ye shes the nonaffirming negation in the second cycle of the Buddha’s teaching is of not fully perfected definitive meaning while the affirming negation of the third wheel, the inseparability of mind’s emptiness and luminosity, in other words mahāmudrā, constitutes the fully perfected definitive meaning. (Draszczyk, introduction, 1)
The constructed nostalgia of the later Great Perfection, or rDzogs chen, tradition gazes backward temporally and geographically toward eighth-century India, reminiscing an era in which the subcontinent is thought to have served as generous benefactor of Dharma gifts to the fledging Buddhist empire of Tibet. Insistence on the familiar Buddhist requirements for true transmission—authenticity and legitimacy founded in lineage and longevity—certainly inspired many of its textual "revelations" beginning in the eleventh century. Many of those nostalgic constructions of rNying ma history have been well documented by modern scholars.
It would be rash to assert, however, that despite all those imaginings, there were no historical primordia of the Great Perfection in the preceding centuries. The textual roots of the Mind Series (sems sde) texts are testament to these early stirrings, as are the Dunhuang manuscripts identified by Sam van Schaik as expressing a form of “Tibetan Zen.”[1] A third seed was planted via the Tibetan Mahāyoga tantra tradition, and within it, germinations of Great Perfection gnoseology, observable prominently in the ninth-century works of dPal dbyangs, who in some colophons and later histories is designated gNyan dPal dbyangs. His works include six canonical verse texts retrospectively entitled sGron ma drug, or Six Lamps,[2] and the rDo rje sems dpa’ zhus lan (Vajrasattva Questions and Answers) catechism found at Dunhuang in three manuscript copies. I have discussed these texts and their most likely Indian inspirations elsewhere. Here, I highlight a particular text within the Six Lamps, his Thugs kyi sgron ma (Lamp of the Mind), as intending to establish, quite early on, a standard set of topics we see well developed in systemizations of the early Great Perfection tradition a few centuries later, and perhaps even before that, in Mind Series texts such as those attributed to Mañjuśrīmitra like the Byang chub kyi sems rdo la gser zhun and the Byang chub sems bsgom pa.[3]
Of all dPal dbyangs’s texts, the Thugs kyi sgron ma is the ideological, linguistic, and practical hinge to his Mayājāla corpus as a whole, linking the other five of the Six Lamps texts and providing convincing evidence for accepting those Six Lamps as a collection, as well as offering insight to the later interpretations of his catechism. The Thugs kyi sgron ma displays dPal dbyangs’s full range of presentation. It includes, on the one hand, dPal dbyangs’s direct recommendations to Mahāyoga tantra, and on the other hand, his depictions of the realization of reality as utterly unstructured, unmediated, and transcendent of any dichotomization or reification, using the apophatic language sprinkled throughout the rest of the Six Lamps texts. Thus, by emphasizing these two elements—the transgressive and the transcendent—within a single text, the Thugs kyi sgron ma may have served as a valuable field guide to early Tibetan Mahāyoga and at least to some degree as a useful strategic plan for the cultivation of something more sustainable and vibrant on Tibetan soil, the Great Perfection. As I hope to show, dPal dbyangs’s very deliberate indexing of these topics appears to have been intended to standardize them as interpretive categories even while undercutting the value of reliance upon them as such, redefining Mahāyoga tantra as it found its earliest shape in Tibet. (Takahashi, introductory remarks, 159–60)
Notes
- Sam van Schaik, “The Early Days of the Great Perfection,” Journal of the International Association of Buddhist Studies 27.1: 167 and 201.
- The Six Lamps texts are as follows: The Lamp of the Mind (Thugs kyi sgron ma), The Lamp of the Correct View (lTa ba yang dag sgron ma), The Lamp Illuminating the Extremes (mTha'i mun sel sgron ma), The Lamp of Method and Wisdom (Thabs shes sgron ma), The Lamp of the Method of Meditation (bsGom thabs kyi sgron ma), and The Lamp of the Precious View (lTa ba rin chen sgron ma). These are P5918, P5919, P5920, P5921, P5922, and P5923, respectively. There are other Lamp collections in both Nyingma and Bön traditions, usually comprising four or six texts. The most prominent example of these is from the Bönpo Great Perfection lineage, the sGron ma drug gi gdams pa. See Christopher Hatchell's "Advice on the Six Lamps" in Naked Seeing: The Great Perfection, the Wheel of Time, and Visionary Buddhism in Renaissance Tibet (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), and Jean-Luc Achard’s English translation in the Six Lamps: Secret Dzogchen Instructions of the Bön Tradition (Boston: Wisdom, 2017).
- See Namkhai Norbu and Kennard Lipman’s Primordial Experience: An Introduction to rDzogs-chen Meditation (Boston: Shambhala, 2001). Karen Liljenberg has discovered parallel passages to dPal dbyangs’s Lamp text the Thabs shes sgron ma in the rTse mo byung rgyal, a text she has identified as belonging to the sems sde corpus the Sems sde lung chen po bco brgyad. Karen Liljenberg, “A Critical Study of the Thirteen Later Translations of the Dzogchen Mind Series” (doctoral dissertation, SOAS, 2012), 57-60. I suspect there are further discoveries to be made of such borrowings between early Tibetan Mahāyoga texts and those of the early Mind Series. See also Liljenberg's paper elsewhere in this issue.
A Philosophy of Plants
The philosopher Tomonobu Imamichi (1922–2012) pointed out that most Japanese family crests are based on plant designs, indicating that, compared with cultures that employ dragons and eagles, or lions and tigers in their heraldry, Japanese cultural patterns show a strong tendency toward adaptability and harmony. Plants survive not as individuals but by species adaptation. This means that they grow where their seed randomly falls, existing within a pattern of dramatic change as their branches and leaves grow. Imamichi wrote, "In the very workings of their life, plants are a reiteration of elegant beauty as they bud, bloom, fall, proliferate, fruit, and change color, all within an intense yet inconspicuous struggle for life" (Tōyō no bigaku [Aesthetics of the East], TBS Britannica, 1980). Plants take root in that space where their seed falls and form a community with other plants. They maintain harmony with their surroundings and continually transform themselves, adapting to changes in their environment. As Imamichi stated, the workings of their life are inconspicuous, but there is no doubt a severity of struggle to survive and flourish.
Are Plants and Trees Nonsentient?
Mahayana Buddhism in general does not consider trees and plants to be capable of sensation and, with the exception of the Lotus and Śūraṅgama sutras, does not hesitate to place them on a par with tiles and stones. For example, the Mahāratnakūṭa Sūtra (Sutra of the Great Accumulation of Treasures) says, "Plants and trees, tiles and stones, like shadows, are not sentient" (Mahāratnakūṭa Sūtra, 78, Discourse to Pūrṇa, 17.2.4). Why is this so?
The geographer Yutaka Sakaguchi reports that recent research has shown that from the middle of the third century to around the sixth or seventh century the world experienced severe climate change in the form of cooling, drier conditions (see "Kako ichiman sanzennen no kikō no henka to jinrui no rekishi" [Climate change and the history of human beings
during the past thirteen thousand years], Kōza, bunmei to kankyō, 6: Rekishi to kikō [Lecture series, 6, Civilization and the environment: History and climate] [Asakura Shoten, 1995 (revised edition, 2008)], 1–11). The Mahayana sutras, with their prohibition of meat eating, were compiled at this time. Why this prohibition was added to the small simple meals demanded by asceticism can thus be explained in ecoreligious terms. In all probability, the acceptance of ascetic behavior in relation to food and the rejection of meat by religious practitioners and the societies that supported them derived from severe and long-term food shortages. At such a time, rather than rearing pigs and other animals on plant food and then eating their meat, many more human lives could be sustained by a considerably lesser volume by eating vegetable foodstuffs directly. "Hence, in order to keep both monks and lay followers free from what was deemed unnecessary inconvenience and qualms, the sentience of plants was, by and large, ignored [in the precept against the taking of life]" (Lambert Schmithausen, Buddhism and Nature: The Lecture Delivered on the Occasion of the EXPO 1990 [International Institute for Buddhist Studies, 1991], 7).
Plants and the Lotus Sutra
Chapter 5 of the Lotus Sutra, "The Parable of the Herbs," likens the teachings of the Buddha benefiting all beings equally to the rain that falls on all trees, shrubs, herbs, and grasses, enabling them to grow and blossom, producing fruits. This chapter was to have an important influence on the Chinese Tiantai and Japanese Tendai schools of Buddhism. Whereas the Chinese Huayan school held that plants are not sentient and cannot achieve enlightenment, in commentaries such as Fazang's (643–712) Huayanjing tanxuanji (Records of the search for the profundities of the Avataṃsaka Sūtra), Tiantai scholars advocated plants' capability of attaining buddhahood. This must have been because of the image presented in "The Parable of the Herbs." (Read the entire article here)Common throughout the De bźin bśegs pa’i sñiṅ po’i mdo (Tathāgatagarbha sūtra) of the Lang Kanjur are several features which are generally assumed to be archaic, such as the ya btags in all words beginning with m- followed by the vowel i or e (e.g. myi, myed, etc.), the usage of the da drag, the tsheg placed before śad, the mtha’ rten ’a (e.g. dpe’ ), occasionally a reversed gi gu, la(s) (b)stsogs pa for la sogs pa, the omission of genitive particles and, in the verses, the reading ’i instead of yi ( ’i counting as a full syllable).
The version of the sūtra represents the canonical transmission (and not the translation found in the “Kanjur from Bathang”).[85] Stemmatically, the text in the Lang Kanjur is very close to the three Phug brag versions of the sūtra, which have been shown to derive from one and the same archetype.[86] It shares mistakes with this archetype. In other instances it is, however, free of the secondary readings found in all three of the Phug brag versions. In all the cases where Phug brag shares a
mistake with the representatives of the Tshal pa-line, the Kanjur version from Dolpo also has this secondary reading. Its use for establishing the stemma of the canonical versions of the De bźin gśegs pa’i sñiṅ po’i mdo is therefore restricted primarily to evaluating the readings of the Phug brag Kanjur in the instances where Phug brag deviates from the Tshal pa-transmission. In all the cases where the Chinese translations of the sūtra could be used to decide on the originality of a reading in the Tibetan, it turned out that whenever the variant in the Lang Kanjur was identical with the one of Tshal pa as against Phug brag, the latter variant was secondary. (Zimmermann, appendix, 104–5)
Notes
85. For more details on this paracanonical translation see Zimmermann 1998.86. See Zimmermann 2002: 173–177.
Of the nine folios, Tucci photographed both sides of seven of them, while he photographed only one side of the remaining two (here labelled 7.2 and 9.2). The two sides not filmed were probably blank or contained title pages (unfortunately, Tucci did not photograph title pages). Some images are out of focus and barely legible, and thus a complete diplomatic transcription is almost impossible. If Rāhula Sāṅkṛtyāyana photographed the same folios, this would be very helpful in deciphering them; however, I have yet to find evidence that he did. Therefore, I have only been able to go through the folios haltingly, and so identify a limited number of them. (Kano, introductory remarks, 381–82)
There is, however, one subject relating to the spread of Buddhism in Ṭhi-sroṅ-deu-tsen's reign, to which the Tibetan historian devotes his special attention and on which he dwells in detail. This is the strife between two parties into which the Buddhists of Tibet were at that time split. One of these parties consisted of the pupils and followers of Ācārya Śāntirakṣita who professed that form of Mahāyāna Buddhism which was generally acknowledged in India and Nepal, viz. the teaching of the Path to Enlightenment through the practice of meditation connected with the dialectical analysis peculiar to the Mādhyamika school of the Buddhists and with the practice of the six Transcendental Virtues (pāramitā).
The leader of the other party was a Chinese teacher (hwa-śaṅ or ho-shang) known by the Sanskrit name Mahāyānadeva, who preached a doctrine of complete quietism and inactivity. According to him every kind of religious practice, the meditative exercises and all virtuous deeds as well were completely useless and even undesirable: the liberation from the bonds of phenomenal existence was to be attained merely through the complete cessation of every kind of thought and mental activity,—by abiding perpetually in a state analogous to sleep. Bu-ston'"`UNIQ--ref-000002A8-QINU`"' relates how this party grew very powerful and found numerous adherents among the Tibetans, how the followers of Śāntirakṣita suffered oppression from it, and how the king who was an adherent of Śāntirakṣita's system, invited Śāntirakṣita's pupil, the teacher Kamalaśīla in order to refute the incorrect teachings of the Chinese party. The dispute between Kamalaśīla and the Chinese Ho-shang in which the latter was defeated is described by Bu-ston'"`UNIQ--ref-000002A9-QINU`"' in detail. We read that the leading men of the two parties'"`UNIQ--ref-000002AA-QINU`"' assembled in the presence of the king, that the Ho-shang was the first to speak in favour of his theory of quietism and inactivity and was answered by Kamalaśīla who demonstrated all the absurdity of the theses maintained by the Ho-shang and showed that the teachings of such a kind were in conflict with the main principles of Buddhism and were conducive to the depreciation and rejection of the most essential features of the Buddhist Path to Enlightenment. We read further on how the chief adherents of Kamalaśīla'"`UNIQ--ref-000002AB-QINU`"' likewise refuted the theories of the Ho-shang, how the latter and his party acknowledged themselves vanquished and were expelled from Tibet by order of the king who prescribed to follow henceforth the Buddhist doctrines that were generally admitted,—the teaching of the six Virtues as regards religious practice and the Mādhvamika system of Nāgārjuna as regards the theory.'"`UNIQ--ref-000002AC-QINU`"'
Thus the influence of the Chinese Ho-shang’s teachings over the minds of the Tibetans suffered a complete defeat and with it perhaps some political influence of China.'"`UNIQ--ref-000002AD-QINU`"' This is certainly a most important event in the history of Tibetan Buddhism which has been duly appreciated by Bu-ston. It is therefore quite natural that we should be interested in finding out the sources of Bu-ston's historical record. But the text of Bu-ston's History which, as a rule, contains references to the works on the foundation of which it has been compiled, does not give us any information here. At the first glance the account of the controversy looks like the reproduction of an oral tradition and there is nothing that could make us conjecture the presence of a literary work upon which the record could have been founded- The following will show that it has now become possible to trace out this work, to compare with it the account given by Bu-ston and to ascertain its historical importance. (Obermiller, "A Sanskrit MS. from Tibet," 1–3)
Read more here . . .
Among the Tibetan Collection of the Newark Museum in Newark (New Jersey) there is an incomplete manuscript Kanjur from Bathang in Khams (East Tibet). In spite of the fact that this
Kanjur was already donated to the museum as early as 1920 it is surprising that it has only recently become the object of a scholarly treatment of some length.[1] In his critical edition of the Mahāsūtras (cp. n. 1), Peter Skilling has used internal criteria to prove that the Bathang Kanjur is affiliated to neither the Tshal pa lineage nor to the Them spangs ma lineage of textual transmission. Its independent character can also be ascertained by external kanjurological
criteria: the collection of the texts, its grouping and its order within the volumes are unique. It becomes, therefore, very plausible that "the Newark Kanjur belongs to an old and independent textual transmission that predates the compilation of the Tshal pa and Them spangs ma collections."[2]
Contained in the ta volume of the sūtra section (mdo bsde ta) of this Kanjur is the Tathāgatagarbhasūtra (TGS).[3] In the process of editing the Tibetan text of this important Mahāyāna work, of which no Indic copies have come down to us, I used most of the available, historically relevant Kanjurs.[4] Among these 13 versions alone the TGS found in this Kanjur from Bathang represents a different, second translation (Bth). As the existence of two independent Tibetan translations of the same Indic text are of rare occurrence, this study intends to throw light on the differences between the two Tibetan texts, to describe the particular features of Bth and finally to classify it within the history of Tibetan translation activities. (Zimmermann, introductory remarks, 33–35)
Notes
- For a description of the Kanjur cp. Eleanor Olson, Catalogue of the Newark Museum Tibetan Collection, Vol. III, Newark 1971, p. 114, dating it to the 16th century; the most detailed analysis of the 23 volumes of the Kanjur can be found in Peter Skilling's unpublished article Kanjur Manuscripts in the Newark Museum: A Preliminary Report, Nandapurī 1995; the only study including some texts of this Kanjur in a textcritical edition is Peter Skilling's (ed.) Mahāsūtras: Great Discourses of the Buddha, Vol. I: Texts, Oxford 1994 (The Pali Text Society, Sacred Books of the Buddhists Vol. XLIV).
- Skilling, Kanjur Manuscripts. . . . , p. 4.
- Vol. ta, folios 245b1–258a8. The title at the beginning of the volume reads de bzhin gshegs pa'i snying po zhes bya ba'i mdo' . The title at the beginning of the sūtra itself runs: de bzhin gshyes <pa'i> snying po zhes bya ba theg pa chen po'i mdo. It seems remarkable that the Tibetan equivalent for Skt. ārya, 'phags pa, does not appear in the titles of the Bathang translation whereas it is common to all the other major Kanjurs. The spelling mdo bsde can be found "consistently on all tags" (Skilling, Kanjur Manuscripts. . . , p. 6, n. 16).
- The critical edition of the TGS is part of a Ph.D. thesis to be submitted at the University of Hamburg. The collation comprises the versions of the TGS as contained in the Kanjurs from Berlin, Derge, Lithang, London, Narthang, Peking (Ōtani reprint), Phug brag (three versions), Stog, Tabo (fragmentary) and Tokyo (Toyo Bunko) compared with the two Chinese translations. Bth will be appended as a diplomatic edition.
With reference to two of these 'ātmavādin’ tathāgatagarbha works, I present evidence that authors of this tradition used the idea of a Buddhist doctrine of the self to undermine non-Buddhist accounts of liberation: not only describing them as deficient, but as having been created (nirmita) by the Buddha himself. Such claims expand the boundaries of the Buddha’s sphere of influence, after the description of his activities found in the Saddharmapuṇḍarīkasūtra: a clear influence upon these tathāgatagarbha sources. Other Mahāyānist literature of an ‘ekayānist’ orientation used this strategy also: i.e. that any teaching regarding liberation from saṃsāra finds its origin in the activities of Buddhas and bodhisattvas, but has its definitive expression in the Buddhist dharma. The tathāgatagarbha presented as a Buddhist doctrine of the self can hence be understood as a complement to a certain understanding of the Mahāyāna, here the archetype of all paths that claim to deliver an end to saṃsāra, and to an account of the Buddha as the architect of all ostensibly non-Buddhist accounts of liberation.
Takasaki argued that the first extant text to use the word tathāgatagarbha was the Tathāgatagarbhasūtra. Since Takasaki's research was published, there have been some remarkable advances in research on the Mahāparinirvāṇamahāsūtra, and in recent years scholars such as S. Hodge and M. Radich have begun to argue that it was the Mahāparinirvāṇamahāsūtra that was the first Buddhist text to use the word tathāgatagarbha. The question of which of these two sūtras came first has not yet been definitively resolved, but it may be generally accepted that both belong to the oldest stratum of Buddhist texts dealing with tathāgatagarbha.
On a previous occasion (Kano 2017), focusing on this point, I collected Sanskrit fragments of both texts containing the word tathāgatagarbha and discussed differences in the expressions in which it is used. In particular, taking into account the findings of Shimoda Masahiro, I argued that if the word tathāgatagarbha appearing in the Mahāparinirvāṇamahāsūtra is interpreted as a bahuvrīhi compound qualifying stūpa, this would accord with the word's usage in this sūtra and with the gist of the chapter "Element of the Tathāgata" (Habata 2013: §§ 375–418). This does not mean, however, that this understanding needs to be applied uniformly to every example of its use in the Mahāparinirvāṇamahāsūtra. Because in this earlier article I focused somewhat unduly on the interpretation of tathāgatagarbha as a bahuvrīhi compound, the fact that there are instances of wordplay making use of the multiple meanings of garbha in the Mahāparinirvāṇamahāsūtra needs to be added, together with some concrete examples. (In the passages of this sūtra, it is natural to understand the term tathāgatagarbha as a substantive in the sense of "garbha of tathāgata" or "garbha that is tathāgata," namely, tatpuruṣa or karmadhāraya, and I do not exclude this possibility as discussed in Kano 2017: 39–42.) In addition, there were some redundant aspects in the structure of my earlier article. In this article I rework these aspects so as to sharpen the focus on the points at issue and add some supplementary points. In the first half I clarify some grammatical characteristics to be observed in examples of the use of tathāgatagarbha in Sanskrit fragments of the Mahāparinirvāṇamahāsūtra, while in the second half I ascertain the polysemy of the word garbha on the basis of some concrete examples. (Kano, "A Syntactic Analysis," 17–18)
La question n'est pas nouvelle; plusieurs fois déjà elle a été étudiée, et diverses solutions lui ont été données. Kern, dans son Histoire du bouddhisme dans l'Inde (1), rejetant l'opinion communément admise en Extrême-Orient, plaça Vasubandhu au VIe siècle de notre ère. Buhler (2) essaya vainement de le ramener au IVe : la thèse de Kern conserva la faveur des indianistes. En 1890, M. Sylvain Lévi, dans son remarquable ouvrage sur Le théâtre indien (3), tentait d'établir que la période d'activité de Vasubandhu couvrait toute la première moitié du VIe siècle ; et dans une note sur La date de Vasubandhu (4), il la reportait même jusqu'au milieu et à la fin de ce siècle. Depuis lors à diverses reprises, notamment dans ses Donations religieuses des rois de Valabhī (5) et dans ses Notes chinoises sur l'Inde parues ici même (6), il s'est efforcé d'étayer sa thèse de nouvelles considérations. M. Takakusu Junjirō, après avoir proposé les limites de 450–550 pour l'« àge moyen » (7) dans lequel Yi-tsing range Vasubandhu et Asaṅga, essaya ensuite de les préciser davantage en ce qui concerne le premier et d'établir qu'il avait vécu de 420 à 500 environ de notre ère (8). En 1908, M. Wogihara (9) démontrait en détail ce que les anciens catalogues chinois du Tripiṭaka, Nei tien lou, K'ai-yuan lou, etc., des écrivains comme Touen-louen des T'ang dans son Yeou-kia louen ki (1), еt M. Nanjio Bunyu (2) avaient déjà dit sommairement, à savoir qu'un ouvrage d'Asaṅga, le Yogācāryabhūmi çāstra (3), avait été partiellement traduit en chinois par Dharmarakṣa entre 414 et 421, soit dès le commencement du Ve siècle (4).
Enfin dans l'introduction de sa traduction du Mahāyāna-Sutrālaṃkāra (5) parue en 1911, M. S. Lévi, abandonnant sa première opinion, écrit à propos d'Asaṅga : « Son activité couvre toute la première moitié du Ve siècle, en débordant de part et d'autre sur les deux extrémités de cette période. » C'est peutêtre un peu long, car si Asaṅga a vécu soixante-quinze ans, les documents à notre connaissance nous disent qu'il chercha sa voie un certain temps. N'oublions pas d'ailleurs que le Yogācāryabhūmi çāstra, l'œuvre maîtresse d'Asaṅga, est de dimensions considérables: la traduction chinoise compte 100 kiuan. Son importance dogmatique n'est pas moindre. Il est l'expression d'une pensée maîtresse d'elle-mème, qui a dépassé la période des incertitudes et des tàtonnements. Il est assez peu vraisemblable, mème sans tenir compte des indications données par Paramārtha dans sa vie de Vasubandhu, qu'il ait été écrit par un tout jeune homme. En tout cas, quelque différence d'àge qu'on veuille admettre entre Asaṅga et Vasubandhu, — et il faut tenir compte de l'existence d'un troisième frère, Viriñcivatsa (6) — celui-ci, bien qu'il ait vécu quatre-vingts ans, n'aurait pu, dans ces conditions, dépasser ni mème atteindre la fin du Ve siècle.
D'une manière générale, il semble que dans les études qui ont porté sur ce sujet, quelques documents aient été ignorés et que d'autres aient été délibérément écartés de la discussion comme douteux. En bonne logique, ce simple doute qui ne parait pas avoir jamais été sérieusement éclairci, suffirait à enlever toute sécurité aux conclusions que l'on a cru pouvoir formuler sans en tenir compte, ou si l'on préfère, elles ne sauraient ètre que provisoires tant que la menace qu'il laisse planer sur elles n'a pas été définitivement écartée. La question me parait donc devoir ètre reprise, les documents déclarés douteux soumis à un nouvel examen, et mis en œuvre aussi ceux qui n'ont pas encore été utilisés. Je n'ai pas d'ailleurs la prétention d'ètre complet. C'est à peu près uniquement à la première série, (missing characters), du Supplément du Tripiṭaka de Kyōto, œuvres hindoues et chinoises, que sont empruntés les textes qu'on trouvera au cours de cette étude. Les quelque 700 fascicules déjà parus de cette admirable publication, d'une importance capitale pour les études bouddhiques, en contiennent sans doute d'autres encore, qu'une recherche plus approfondie et plus complète ferait découvrir. Je n'ai pu que feuilleter les œuvres qui m'ont paru devoir ètre les plus intéressantes pour mon sujet par leur date, leur auteur ou leur genre. (Péri, preliminary remarks, 339–41)
Notes
1. T. II, p. 414; Annales du Musée Guimet, t. XI, p. 450; il parle principalement d'Asaṅga, et se basant sur la date de l'avènement de Çīladitya (610, propose les dates de 485 à 560. C'est évidemment à cet ouvrage que la Chronology of India de Mrs. Mabel Duff les emprunte, et non au Buddhismus de Vassilieff, auquel elle renvoie. Celui-ci ne dit rien de tel; si je ne me trompe, il donne seulement la date bouddhiste de 900 ans, dont je parlerai plus loin.
2. Die indischen Inschriften und das Alter der indischen Kunst-Poesie, dans Sitzungsberichte der Kais. Akademie der Wissenschaften, Wien, 1890, p. 79 sqq.
3. Cf. I, 165, et II, 35.
4. Journal Asiatique, 1890, II, p. 552–553.
5. Bibliothèque de l'Ecole des Hautes-Etudes. Sciences religieuses, vol. VII. Etudes de critique et d'histoire, p. 97.
6. La date de Candragomin. BEFEO, III (1903), 47-49.
7. A Record of the Buddhist religion.... by I-tsing, p. VIII.
8. La Sāṃkhyakārikā étudiée à la lumière de sa version chinoise, BEFEO, IV (1904), p. 37-56; et A study of Paramārtha's life of Vasubandhu and the date of Vasubandhu, dans Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, 1905.
9. Asaṅga's Bodhisattvabhūmi, ein dogmatischer Text der Nordbuddhisten, Leipzig. B. E. F. E.-O. T. XI. —22.
1. Grand ouvrage en 48 k., publié dans le supplément au Tripiṭaka de Kyoto, 1re
série, boites LXXV, fasc. 4 et 5, et LXXVI, fasc. 1 à 4. Le passage cité se trouve boite LXXV, fasc. 4, p. 308.
2. Cf. Nanjio, Catalogue, nos 1083, 1086, etc.
3. Nanjio, Catalogue. no 1170.
4. Le canon chinois contient sept ou huit traductions partielles de cet ouvrage, faites à des époques parfois très voisines les unes des autres, sous des titres différents ; encore n'avons-nous pas toutes celles qui le furent: le K'ai-yuan lou, k. 12, en cite une dizaine pour le mème texte. Le fait qu'il en existait des extraits si nombreux, assez différents pour que des contemporains les traduisissent séparément à quelques années de distance, permet de croire qu'un intervalle assez long sépare la composition de l'ouvrage des premières traductions d'extraits faites en Chine.
5. B. E. H. E. Sciences historiques et philologiques, fasc. 190, p. *2.
Pabhassara Sutta
Kevaddha Sutta
Nibbana Sutta
Ashtasahasrika Prajnaparamita Sutra
Samdhinirmochana Sutra
Mahaparinirvana Sutra
Shrimaladevi Sutra
Tathagatagarbha Sutra
Lankavatara Sutra
Bodhidharma’s Breakthrough Sermon
Sengcan’s Song of the Trusting Mind
Hongren’s Treatise on the Supreme Vehicle
Huineng’s Platform Sutra
Yongjia’s Song of Realizing the Way
Shitou’s Record
Shitou’s Song of the Grass-Roof Hermitage
Dongshan’s Song of the Jewel Mirror Samadhi
Caoshan’s Verse
Guishan’s Record
Mazu’s Record
Baizhang’s Record
Huangbo’s Transmission of Mind
Linji’s Record
Nanquan’s Record
Changsha’s Record
Yunmen’s Record
Yuanwu’s Letters
Hongzhi’s Record
Dogen’s Treasury of the True Dharma Eye
Ejo’s Absorption in the Treasury of Light
Keizan’s Transmission of Light
32nd Ancestor Hongren
34th Ancestor Qingyuan
38th Ancestor Dongshan
40th Ancestor Dongan
46th Ancestor Tanxia
49th Ancestor Xuedou
52nd Ancestor Dogen
53rd Ancestor Ejo
Chinul’s Complete Sudden Attainment of Buddhahood
Chinul’s Secrets of Cultivating the Mind
Bassui’s One Mind
Bankei’s Record
Hakuin’s Four Cognitions
Menzan’s Self-Enjoyment Samadhi
Shunryu Suzuki’s Mind Waves (from "Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind")
Shunryu Suzuki’s Resuming Big Mind (from "Not Always So")
Padmasambhava’s Self-Liberation through Seeing with Naked Awareness
Dakpo Tashi Namgyal’s Clarifying the Natural State
Karma Chagmey’s Union of Mahamudra and Dzogchen
[NOTE. The materials embodied in this list were received in a final form from Dr. Hoernle. early in 1918. The typed press copy prepared from them was after his death in November of that year checked with the original under the kind supervision of Dr. F. W. Thomas.
Owing to various reasons difficulty was experienced about verifying the exact reading of all extracts quoted by Dr. Hoernle from particular MSS., mainly in Khotanese language. It being thus impossible to assure in this respect the degree of accuracy which that most painstaking collaborator would have aimed at, I have thought it advisable to reduce the reproduction of such quotations within narrow limits. For convenient reference by future students the original Inventory ' slips' as received from Dr. Hoernle's hand, as well as a typed copy of them, have been deposited at the India Office Library.—A. STEIN.]
Buddhism has a profound and thoroughly developed set of teachings on human being. One might well argue that the question of human being is the question par excellence with which the Buddhist tradition as a whole struggles. According to the traditional account, for example, the point of departure for the Buddha's own search, discoveries, and teachings was the dilemma of the human condition. Moreover, vast numbers of Buddhist texts speak out of or address human experience as such, consciously focusing upon it as the source of both question and answer. Nonetheless, many questions a modern Westerner asks as a matter of course about human being are not directly addressed in the Buddhist texts. There are of course important reasons for this. Our concept of and assumptions about human individuality are profoundly different from Buddhist views of the same. Our two worlds of discourse about the value and meaning of finite bodily existence, the course of history, the meaning of suffering, and the nature of possible human greatness are set up on entirely different foundations. Thus, for a contemporary Westerner to ask the question "What is a person? What is a human being?" of a Buddhist text is to set oneself up to receive an answer that does not satisfy the intent of the question. Yet, while Buddhist views and assumptions differ so markedly from our own, Buddhist texts reveal in their own way a preoccupation with the human condition as intent as that of our own hyperindividualistic, anthropocentric culture.
With such a shared fixation, it is inevitable that persons on both sides of the cultural boundaries will attempt to gain light from the other side on this subject, despite the incommensurability of each other's questions and answers. The present essay is one such attempt: not an East-West comparison, but an effort to address a Buddhist text from the perspective of cross-cultural philosophy (still, despite the name, a thoroughly Western enterprise) . Herein I will engage in dialogue the Buddha Nature Treatise (Chinese: Fo Hsing Luna; hereafter, BNT), a text representative of the Buddha nature tradition that contains an extensive discussion of the concept of Buddha nature, a crucial component, if not the most crucial component, of the East Asian Buddhist concept of human being. I will attempt to wrest from the text answers to two categories of questions-it s view of the ontological nature of human being and its view of the existential status of human beings. In the course of the discussion I will ask such questions as: What roles do individuality and freedom play in the view of human being portrayed in this text? What value, if any, does an individual human personality possess? Is there anything of value in human history? Clearly, the text itself does not speak in these terms; these are the questions of a twentieth-century, philosophically inclined American. In order to bridge the cultural gap, I will first give a summary account of the text's concept of Buddha nature in its own terms and in its own format. Then, acknowledging that the text itself neither speaks this language nor shares my concerns, I will put my questions to the text and attempt to extract from the text its implications for the subject of my concern. In other words, I cannot claim that the author of the BNT does make the statements I will give as responses to my questions about human being, but I do claim that these views are implicit in and follow from the statements he does make about Buddha nature. Granting that human freedom requires us to expect the unexpected, nonetheless, I believe that if the author of the BNT were here today and could engage in dialogue with me, as long as my interlocutor remained consistent, something close to the views I will articulate in the course of this essay would emerge. (King, "Buddha Nature and the Concept of Person," 151–52)
To understand what is meant by “Buddha Nature,” we can look at the story of the three turnings of the wheel of Dharma taught by Shakyamuni Buddha. The first turning of the Dharma wheel is the four noble truths: that discontent arises from grasping the ever-changing phenomena of body and mind as “me,” and that freedom from this discontent is revealed through the path of not grasping anything as truly me. The four noble truths is a kind of deconstruction method. However, in this first turning, all the different elements that we can deconstruct this person into really do exist. Earth, wind, fire and water, for example: those kind of physical elements, when you break them down into their smallest bits, are indestructible elemental energies or physical matter, atoms. Early Buddhists, who were first turning exponents, had this kind of theory—that the world is made up of atoms—several centuries B.C., long before modern scientists discovered atoms. We don’t really exist as independent “persons”; we are a conglomeration of all this stuff that we think is a real “me,” but if we look closely, we only find atoms. This turning of the Dharma wheel was only the first.
Read more hereEmulating Never Disrespectful Bodhisattva
The Quest of the Monk Sōō to Practice Revering Buddha-Nature
The "marathon monks" of Japan are one of the iconic images of Japanese Buddhism, familiar to people the world over. These monks walk excruciating mountain circuits on Mount Hiei near Kyoto and Mount Kinpu in Nara Prefecture for a summer retreat of one hundred days. A handful in the posar period have performed the insufferable thousand-day version of this retreat, and also completed additional ascetic practices to gain the title of Great Acarya. Having achieved the humanly impossible, they are sometimes referred to as living buddhas.Hagiographic sources tell us that the founder of this practice, the Tendai monk Sōō (831-918), was motivated to seek enlightenment when as a novice monk he studied the part of the Lotus Sutra that tells the story of Never Disrespectful Bodhisattva. Sōō set his heart on emulating Never Disrespectful's way of practice, walking about making obeisances to other people as future buddhas. Unfortunately, Sōō's responsibilities to look after his teacher, and the daily task of going into the mountains to harvest anise-tree leaves for the offerings at the monastery's central hall, prevented him from dedicating himself solely to the reverence of other people's buddha-nature. According to tradition, however, Sōō's daily forays into the mountain became the origin of today's marathon-monk practice, in which ascetic monks revere the shrines of Buddhist deities and places where Japanese divinities abide in the mountains. It is often said that the marathon monk's true object of reverence is the buddha-nature of the natural world.
The Lotus Sutra's Never Disrespectful Bodhisattva is an archetype of respect for the inherent dignity of sentient beings. As told in chapter 20 of the Lotus Sutra, one time in the past there was a monk who did not practice by chanting sutras but instead went around making obeisance to every person he met, telling them, "I would never dare to disrespect you, because surely you are all to become buddhas!" As the reader can probably anticipate, the Lotus Sutra tells us that Never Disrespectful was oftentimes ridiculed, even physically attacked, but he bore it all patiently and through this practice not only purified his mind and body but also transformed the hearts and minds of the people around him. The Lotus Sutra tells us that performing this practice leads to quickly attaining the Buddha Way. (Scarangello, "Buddha-Nature (1)," 28-29) (Read entire article here)
In the last installment of this column we explored the concept of buddha-nature—its meaning, the Lotus Sutra's teaching of revering buddha-nature, and how Buddhists can reveal the buddha-nature of themselves and others by demonstrating respect for people and discovering their goodness. This time we will consider another way of realizing buddha-nature that is inspired by the stories of the Lotus Sutra. Rissho Kosei-kai members speak of awakening to buddha-nature as attaining the conviction that both oneself and others are, in the allegorical language of the Lotus Sutra, "children of the Buddha." Rev. Nikkyo Niwano, the founder of Rissho Kosei-kai, held that feelings of worthlessness thwarted people's ability to improve their own lives and brought them much suffering, and for this reason he employed the sutra's allegory of the parent-child relationship to help people see themselves as future buddhas and heirs to all the qualities that the Buddha Shakyamuni possessed. The belief that living beings are children of the Buddha also encourages the appreciation of all human life. As members of the human family, all people are our brothers and sisters, possessing the same inherent dignity and human potential as the Buddha. Today some people may not be entirely comfortable with the gendered language of the Lotus Sutra's allegory, but a close reading of the text can open pathways to an understanding appropriate to contemporary society and twenty-first century social norms. (Scarangello, "Buddha-Nature (2)," 35) (Read the entire article here)
In this chapter I will look into interpretations of buddha-nature starting with the Sublime Continuum (Uttaratantra, ca. fourth century), the first commentarial treatise focused on this subject. I will then present its role(s) in Mahāyāna Buddhism in general, and in the interpretations of Yogācāra and Madhyamaka in particular. Next I will discuss the role of buddha-nature as a key element in the theory and practice of Buddhist tantra, which will lead into a discussion of this doctrine in light of pantheism ("all is God"). Thinking of buddha-nature in terms of pantheism can help bring to light significant dimensions of this strand of Buddhist thought. (Duckworth, introduction, 235)
This article is not concerned with whether buddha-nature and tathāgatagarbha thought is actually deleterious to critical philosophical work. Rather, the concern is to demonstrate that, far from embracing buddha-nature doctrine, the eighth-century founders of Southern Chan had serious concerns with it. Evidence for this is found in: (1) the writings of Shenhui, notably in his opposition to the doctrine of the "buddha-nature of insentient objects" (wuqing foxing 無情佛性); and (2) the Platform Scripture of the Sixth Patriarch (Liuzu tanjing 六祖壇經), particularly in the variant versions of Huineng's famous "enlightenment verse." Thus the Southern School may be viewed as a forerunner of the Critical Buddhist anti-dhātuvāda polemics. The article closes with comments on the ongoing problems Chinese Buddhist exegetes had in marrying the metaphysical monism of Yogācāra and tathāgatagarbha teachings with the anti-foundationalist thrust of Madhyamaka and Prajñāpāramitā literature.
Comparing the Sanskrit fragments and the Ratnagotravibhāga, which quotes the Mahāparinirvāṇa-sūtra (that is the Mahāparinirvāṇa-mahāsūtra), the original Sanskrit word fóxìng is buddhadhātu, tathāgatadhātu or tathāgatagarbha. Takasaki Jikidō's research on the tathāgatagarbha theory led him to conclude that the Mahāparinirvāṇa-mahāsūtra is the first known text in which the word buddhadhātu is used in this meaning.'"`UNIQ--ref-00000EEE-QINU`"'
I have been studying the original text of the Mahāparinirvāṇa-mahāsūtra for some time, analyzing the Sanskrit fragments in comparison with the Tibetan and Chinese translations. From the viewpoint of the original text, the meaning of the formula "Every living being has the Buddha-nature" reveals nuances slightly different from the interpretations adopted in Chinese and Japanese Buddhism. (Habata, introduction, 176–77)In the fifth century A.D., Buddhism began to extricate itself from its quasi-Daoist pigeonhole by clarifying definitive differences between Buddhist and Daoist thought, shedding Daoist vocabulary and literary styles while developing new distinctively Buddhist terminology and genres. Curiously, despite the fact that Mahāyāna Buddhism had few adherents in Central Asia and was outnumbered by other Buddhist schools in India as well, in China Mahāyāna became the dominant form of Buddhism, so much so that few pejoratives were as stinging to a fellow Buddhist as labelling him ‘Hīnayāna’ (literally ‘Little Vehicle,’ a polemical term for non-Mahāyānic forms of Buddhism). By the sixth century, the Chinese had been introduced to a vast array of Buddhist theories and practices representing a wide range of Indian Buddhist schools. As the Chinese struggled to master these doctrines it became evident that, despite the fact that these schools were all supposed to express the One Dharma (Buddha’s Teaching), their teachings were not homogenous, and were frequently incommensurate.
By the end of the sixth century, the most pressing issue facing Chinese Buddhists was how to harmonize the disparities between the various teachings. Responses to this issue produced the Sinitic Mahāyāna schools, that is, Buddhist schools that originated in China rather than India. The four Sinitic schools are Tiantai, Huayan, Chan and Pure Land (Jingtu). Issues these schools share in common include Buddha-nature, mind, emptiness, tathāgatagarbha, expedient means (upāya), overcoming birth and death (saṃsāra), and enlightenment. (Source: Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy, Vol. 1)As a prominent fourteenth-century Tibetan doxographer, Dolpopa, however, does not repudiate self-emptiness per se; rather, he speaks of two types of emptiness'"`UNIQ--ref-00003099-QINU`"' that have separate referent points. For him, self-emptiness refers only to conventional phenomena such as tables, chairs, and negative defilements that do not inherently exist'"`UNIQ--ref-0000309A-QINU`"' or that are empty of their own entities. Dolpopa argues that since conventional phenomena cannot withstand analysis, in that their individual entities are essentially empty or deconstructed, as the existence of their nature is thoroughly investigated, they are empty of inherent existence. Therefore, he claims that self-emptiness is not ultimate truth.'"`UNIQ--ref-0000309B-QINU`"'
On the other hand, he passionately demonstrates that other-emptiness exists inherently and ultimately. Furthermore, it is identified with the tathāgata-essence (de bzhin gshegs pa’i snying po, tathāgatagarbha or buddha-nature (sangs rgyas kyi rigs; buddhagotra) endowed with enlightened qualities that exists in all beings. Dolpopa argues that this form of emptiness is not empty of its own entity, since it ultimately and permanently exists. Also, ultimate truth is empty of all conventional phenomena that are antithetical to ultimately existent other-emptiness. So, while self-emptiness, which he refers to as "empty-emptiness" (stong pa’i stong pa), is primarily taught in the Prajñāpāramitāsūtras of the middle wheel teachings, it is not ultimate truth, as it is empty of its own entity and it is not free from conceptual thought. On the other hand, other-emptiness, which he dubs "non-empty-emptiness" (mi stong pa’i stong pa), while not primarily taught in the Prajñāpāramitāsūtras, is delineated in last wheel teachings of the Buddha, such as Tathāgatagarbhasūtra, Śrīmālādevīsūtra, and others to refer to the naturally enlightened buddha-nature that is empty of all conventional phenomena. This is Dolpopa’s position on the two types of emptiness and the hierarchy of Mahāyāna literature in a nutshell and much of the discourse that follows on other-emptiness in the history of Tibetan Buddhist scholasticism has its roots in Dolpopa’s doctrinal formulation of other-emptiness vis-à-vis self-emptiness.
While Dolpopa certainly gets the well-deserved credit for making other-emptiness "a place of fundamental importance in the expression of his philosophy"'"`UNIQ--ref-0000309C-QINU`"' in Tibet, his controversial interpretation of Mahāyāna texts and the relative early availability of his writings to international scholars has perhaps led some to assume that Dolpopa’s thought is more original than it really was. Fortunately, the recent release of dozens of Kadam (bka’ gdams) volumes of previously unknown philosophical texts that predate Dolpopa allows us to reconsider this issue. Among the new texts that might be pertinent to a reconstruction of the early history of other-emptiness discourse in Tibet is the writing of Rinchen (rin chen ye shes, 13th-14th c.) in conjunction with the previously available Buton’s (bu ston rin chen grub, 1290-1364) Precious Garland of Rebuttals (’phrin yig gi lan rin po che’i phreng ba).'"`UNIQ--ref-0000309D-QINU`"' I argue that Dolpopa’s unique doctrinal views with respect to ultimate truth and their related Indie sources are found in Rinchen’s doctrinal formulation of Mahāyāna literature. Furthermore, there is a good reason to argue that Dolpopa’s unique views were directly influenced by the Kadam scholar.'"`UNIQ--ref-0000309E-QINU`"' Therefore, in this article, I analyze their points of convergence and divergence on the issues of buddha-nature, textual authority, and doxographical strategy, and suggest that Kadam influence on Dolpopa needs to be recognized more than we do in modern scholarship on Dolpopa’s works. (Wangchuk, introduction, 9–11)
I do not intend here to try to resolve all of the many questions involved in determining the author of the AFM (such an undertaking is well beyond the scope of a short paper), but I would like to address an argument that Professor Lai raised in the first of his articles—namely his contention that the AFM's exposition of the relationship of hsin (mind) and nien (thought, thought-moment) bears such an "unmistakable sinitic stamp" that it must have been authored in China.'"`UNIQ--ref-00002A02-QINU`"' I will try to show that the AFM's central conception of an "unmoved," pure mind (hsin) existing as the basis of the deluded movement of thoughts (nien) has an important Indian precedent in the cittaprakṛti and ayoniśomanaskāra notions of the Ratnagotravibhāga-mahāyānottaratantraśāstra (hereafter referred to as the RGV), a text with which the AFM's author may well have been familiar. I do not intend this as a criticism of Professor Lai's research—the parallels he finds between Chinese thought regarding hsin and nien prior to the period of the Six Dynasties and the elucidation of these notions in the AFM deserve serious attention. I simply would like to show that similar parallels—if not direct textual influences—exist between the AFM and the Indian-composed RGV, so that there is no compelling reason to conclude that the AFM theory of mind (hsin) and thoughts (nien) demonstrates Chinese authorship. (Grosnick, "Cittaprakṛti and Ayoniśomanaskāra in the Ratnagotravibhāga," 35–36)
Read more here . . .
Critical Buddhism was inevitable. That it was given voice by prominent Japanese scholars noted for their work in non-East Asian Buddhism was also inevitable. That it has provoked strong, even hostile, reactions was inevitable as well. Inevitable means that the causes and conditions that gave rise to Critical Buddhism can be analyzed and understood to show that it has a context, a history, and a necessity. Critical Buddhism is necessary. Thinking about what arises through causes and conditions, especially in terms of how that impacts on cultural and social realities, is a principal component of both Critical Buddhism and Buddhism properly practiced.
This essay will examine some—but certainly not all—of the factors that have contributed to Critical Buddhism. Some arguments and observations will be offered that, while not retellings from the writings of the Critical Buddhists, run parallel to them. These parallels, which I offer as supplements, recast some of their arguments and focus on issues and areas germane to their undertaking. After discussing the inevitability of Critical Buddhism in the context of twentieth-century Japanese Buddhist scholarship, I will turn to some of the events that took place in China during the seventh and eighth centuries that were decisive for the prevalence in East Asia of the type(s) of Buddhism they criticize. This will be followed by a critique of what has happened to the notion of enlightenment in East Asian Buddhism, particularly in the Ch’an and Zen traditions, with reference to the problem of hongaku (original enlightenment) and the authority of lineage transmission. Then, stepping back into a wider context, I will suggest that, far from being the idiosyncratic, misguided departure depicted by its detractors, Critical Buddhism is the inevitable revisiting of a theme that has been central to Buddhism since its onset. All the above points concern inevitabilities: the trajectory and accomplishments of Japanese scholarship in this century coupled with the crisis of Buddhism in the modern world; the decisive historical events that have established a pervasive ideological underpinning in East Asian Buddhism that Matsumoto and Hakamaya have labeled dhātu-vāda, combined with the exclusion of other, counteracting Buddhist tendencies found elsewhere in the Buddhist world, such as Buddhist logic; the undermining of certain foundational Buddhist notions, such as enlightenment, as a result of or in tandem with the growth of dhātu-vāda ideology; the persistent self-criticism and self-reevaluation that Buddhism has subjected itself to, often glorifying the critique and the critics (Nāgārjuna being the most famous example)—all these points have made it inevitable that Critical Buddhism appear today in Japan (and elsewhere). Finally, while examining an aspect of Matsumoto’s critique of The Record of Lin-chi, I will suggest some tactical distinctions that should be considered by those critical of Critical Buddhism (Lusthaus, "Critical Buddhism and Returning to the Sources," 30–31)
- the old order called Nying-ma-ba,'"`UNIQ--ref-00002AD0-QINU`"' which reached its full development in the fourteenth century with the scholar-yogi Long-chen-rap-jam'"`UNIQ--ref-00002AD1-QINU`"'
- a highly scholastic order called Ge-luk-ba,'"`UNIQ--ref-00002AD2-QINU`"' founded by the fourteenth century scholar-yogi Dzongka-ba.'"`UNIQ--ref-00002AD3-QINU`"'
Dzong-ka-ba was born in 1357 in the northeastern province of Tibet called Am-do,'"`UNIQ--ref-00002AD7-QINU`"' now included by the occupying Chinese Communists not in the Tibetan Autonomous Region but in Ch'ing-hai Province. He studied the new and old schools extensively, and developed his own tradition called Ge-luk-ba. Dzongka- ba and his followers established a system of education centered especially in large universities, eventually in three areas of Tibet but primarily in Hla-sa, the capital, which in some ways was for the Tibet cultural region what Rome is for the Catholic Church. For five centuries, young men came from all over the Tibetan cultural region to these large Tibetan universities to study (I say "men" because women were, for the most part, excluded from the scholastic culture). Until the Communist takeovers, these students usually returned to their own countries after completing their degrees.
My presentation on the mind of clear light is largely from standard Nying-ma-ba and Ge-luk-ba perspectives on the two basic forms of what Tibetan tradition accepts as Shākyamuni Buddha's teaching—the Sūtra Vehicle and the Tantra Vehicle, also called the Vajra Vehicle.'"`UNIQ--ref-00002AD8-QINU`"' (Hopkins, background, 245–46)
Valley sounds are the long, broad
tongue.
Mountain colors are not other than
the unconditioned body.
Eighty-four thousand verses are
heard through the night.
What can I say about this in the
future?
Let’s take a look at the poem, using the above translation by Kazuaki Tanahashi (Treasury of the True Dharma Eye: Zen Master Dōgen’s Shōbō Genzō [Shambhala, 2012], 86)
Valley sounds are the long, broad tongue. "Valley sounds" are the sounds of a stream.
"Long, broad tongue" refers to the Buddha and his teachings, known as the Dharma. Restated unpoetically: natural phenomena such as streams are capable of expressing the highest truth. (Read entire article here)
First, rejecting all existing forms of Buddhism in Japan as unauthentic, he attempted to introduce and establish what he believed to be the genuine Buddhism, based on his own realization which he attained in Sung China under the guidance of the Zen Master Ju-ching (Nyojō, 1163-1228). He called it "the Buddha Dharma directly transmitted from the Buddha and patriarchs." He emphasized zazen"`UNIQ--ref-00002782-QINU`"'(seated meditation) as being "the right entrance to the Buddha Dharma" in the tradition of the Zen schools in China since Bodhidharma, originating from Śākyamuni Buddha. Yet he strictly refused to speak of a "Zen sect," to say nothing of a "Sōtō sect," that he was later credited with founding. For Dōgen was concerned solely with the "right Dharma," and regarded zazen as its "right entrance." "Who has used the name 'Zen sect'? No buddha or patriarch spoke of a 'Zen sect.' You should realize it is a devil that speaks of 'Zen sect.' Those who pronounce a devil's appellation must be confederates of the devil, not children of the Buddha.",'"`UNIQ--ref-00002783-QINU`"'He called himself "the Dharma transmitter Shamon Dōgen who went to China"'"`UNIQ--ref-00002784-QINU`"'with strong conviction that he had attained the authentic Dharma that is directly transmitted from buddha to buddha, and that he should transplant it on Japanese soil. Thus he rejected the idea of mappo"`UNIQ--ref-00002785-QINU`"', i.e., the last or degenerate Dharma, an idea with wide acceptance in the Japanese Buddhism of his day. It may not be too much to say of Dōgen that just as Bodhidharma transmitted the Buddha Dharma to China, he intended to transmit it to Japan.
Secondly, though Dōgen came to a realization of the right Dharma under the guidance of a Chinese Zen master whom he continued to revere throughout his life, the understanding of the right Dharma is unique to Dogen. With religious awakening and penetrating insight, Dōgen grasped the Buddha Dharma in its deepest and most authentic sense. In doing so, he dared to reinterpret the words of former patriarchs, and even the sutras themselves. As a result, his idea of the right Dharma presents one of the purest forms of Mahayana Buddhism, in which the Dharma that was realized in the Buddha's enlightenment reveals itself most profoundly. All of this, it is noteworthy, is rooted in Dōgen's own existential realization, which he attained in himself through long and intense seeking. Based on this idea of the right Dharma, he not only rejected, as stated above, all existing forms of Buddhism in Japan, but also severely criticized certain forms of Indian and Chinese Buddhism, though, it is true, he generally considered Buddhism in these two countries as more authentic than that in Japan.
The third reason Dōgen is unique in the history of Japanese Buddhism, is because of his speculative and philosophical nature. He was a strict practicer of zazen, who earnestly emphasized shikantaza"`UNIQ--ref-00002786-QINU`"', i.e., just sitting. His whole life was spent in rigorous discipline as a monk. He encouraged his disciples to do the same. Yet he was endowed with keen linguistic sensibility and a philosophical mind. His main work, entitled Shōbōgenzō"`UNIQ--ref-00002787-QINU`"', "A Treasury of the Right Dharma Eye," perhaps unsurpassable in its philosophical speculation, is a monumental document in Japanese intellectual history. In Dōgen, we find a rare combination of religious insight and philosophical ability. In this respect, he may be well compared with Thomas Aquinas, born twenty five years after him.
He wrote his main work, Shōbōgenzō, in Japanese, in spite of the fact that leading Japanese Buddhists until then had usually written their major works in Chinese. Dōgen made penetrating speculations and tried to express the world of the Buddha Dharma in his mother tongue by mixing Chinese Buddhist and colloquial terms freely in his composition. The difficult and unique style of his Japanese writing is derived from the fact that, in expressing his own awakening, he never used conventional terminology, but employed a vivid, personal style grounded in his subjective speculations. Even when he used traditional Buddhist phrases, passages, etc., he interpreted them in unusual ways in order to express the Truth as he understood it. In Dōgen, the process of the search for and realization of the Buddha Dharma and the speculation on and expression of that process are uniquely combined.'"`UNIQ--ref-00002788-QINU`"'
In this paper I shall discuss Dōgen's idea of Buddha nature, which may be regarded as a characteristic example of his realization. (Abe, "Dōgen on Buddha Nature", 28–30)The present paper offers just such crucial material: eight folios from a Sanskrit manuscript of MSABh from Tibet. This is the first part of a series of studies dealing with the subject.
For over thirty years I have been encountering a motif or set of motifs in Japanese culture that is, outside of folklore and the children's story, virtually unheard of in European literature. Japanese literature and theater are rife with stories in which the protagonists are not human but are, rather, plants, trees, animals, or supernatural beings. For many Westerners, such tales seem indicative of some kind of arrested development in the Japanese psyche, as if their culture had failed to become modern or, worse, "grow up."
When I ask my Japanese colleagues about this, most see no problem at all: both Shinto and Buddhism acknowledge that sentience can exist across a broad spectrum of life, from the simplest organic structures to supernatural entities that, though invisible, may direct our lives in ways we still don’t understand. Arguably, the Japanese themselves feel a kinship with these other entities to a degree that many people in Europe or North America do not, though such a sensibility is common among indigenous peoples around the world. As unique as they are, human beings do not occupy any God-given, privileged place in this scheme. Th e word animism is brought out to explain much of this, though the term itself is vaguely used.
I began to realize that a radically different metaphysical construct of the world gives rise to a distinctive poetics and dramaturgy, and that typical EuroAmerican critical tools fail to adequately interpret even Japanese discursive texts, to say nothing of many of their greatest works of poetry, fiction, and drama. (Poulton, "Flowers of Sentience," 20) (Read the entire article here)
Here, we give the tex of the Tattvasańgraha along with the Tattvasańgrahapañjikā in full. Unlike in the previous fragment, our commentary is brief, and due to its fragmentary nature, it is hard to understand. Having the Tattvasańgrahapañjikā next to our text greatly helps in reconstructing and understanding our text. (Harimoto and Kano, introduction, 5)
Shakya Chokden articulated his position on other-emptiness in works written during the last thirty years of his life. In those works he advocated both Alīkākāravāda Yogācāra and Niḥsvabhāvavāda Madhyamaka systems as equally valid forms of Madhyamaka, regarding the former as a system of other-emptiness and the latter as a system of self-emptiness. Instead of approaching the two systems as irreconcilable, he presented them as equally valid and effective, emphasized their respective strengths, and promoted one or the other depending on context and audience. Partly for these reasons, his own philosophical outlook does not neatly fall into the categories of other-emptiness or self-emptiness, and placing him squarely into the camp of “followers of other-emptiness” (gzhan stong pa)—as some advocates of later sectarian traditions did—does not do justice to him as a thinker. (Source: DigitalCommons@University of Nebraska - Lincoln)
The present report overviews further findings from the set of miscellaneous texts in Śāradā palm-leaves from Zha lu ri phug. The palm-leaf set was first reported by Kano Kazuo (2008), who utilized nine folios in two photographic images (Sferra Cat. MT 42 II/1& 2) preserved at the Istituto Italiano per l’Africa e l’Oriente (IsIAO) in Rome with the help of Francesco Sferra. We have known on the basis of catalogue descriptions that there are further folio images from the same set preserved in other institutes, viz. the China Tibetology Research Center (中国藏学研究中心, CTRC) and the China Ethnic Library (中国民族图书馆, CEL). In other words, the photographic images of the set have been scattered and separately preserved in the three institutes. Ye Shaoyong and Li Xuezhu have independently paid special attention to these materials and researched them.[1]
It was during a lunch break on 2 August 2012 on the occasion of the 5th Beijing International Seminar on Tibetan Studies at CTRC that the present authors (Ye, Li, Kano) met together and became aware of the fact that we were studying folios from one and the same collection. We quickly decided collaboration by unifying each one’s results and sharing all related materials (As for the CTRC material, we share transcription prepared by Li). After collecting the folios together, we have come to know the number of folios of the set as 87 in total, in which 46 folios are found in CTRC images (Sang De Cat. No. 100, [3], [5] = Luo Cat., 136ff., No. 44, [3], [5]) and 41 are found in CEL images (Wang Cat. No.10, 15, 16, 17). The nine leaves in IsIAO images as reported by Kano (2008) overlap with those in CEL (Wang Cat. 10, 16). These folios contain more than fifteen works, most of which are, unfortunately, incomplete, and the remaining folios are yet to be found. There are also folios yet to be identified among the available ones. In the present report, we shall provide a preliminary survey on the Śāradā folios and an update of the report of Kano (2008) by supplying further identifications. (Ye, Li, and Kano, introduction, 30–31)
Notes
1. See Ye 2012 and Li 2011.Buddha-nature comes to shape a Madhyamaka interpretation of emptiness in a positive light in a way that parallels its place in a Yogācāra interpretation (as a positive foundation of mind and reality). Buddha-nature supplements a Yogācāra theory of mind and reality by offering a positive alternative to a theory of consciousness that otherwise functions simply as the distorted cognitive structure of suffering. It thus is not only the potential for an awakened mind, but the cognitive content of awakening, too.
In Tibet we see the interpretation of buddha-nature converge with Mahāyāna doctrines in structurally parallel ways. Paired with buddha-nature, the doctrine of emptiness in Madhyamaka pivots from a “self-empty” lack of intrinsic nature to an “other-empty,” pure ground that remains. In narratives of disclosure characteristic of the doctrine of buddha-nature, we also see parallel shifts in the foundations of Yogācāra, as grounds of distortion like the basic consciousness, the dependent nature, and self-awareness are reinscribed into a causal story that takes place within a pure, gnostic ground.The Buddha’s statement “all that is conditioned'"`UNIQ--ref-00000FA5-QINU`"' is impermanent!”'"`UNIQ--ref-00000FA6-QINU`"' is known as one of The “Four Seals,” the cornerstone of all Buddhist traditions. In Buddhist logic this seal became the basis for the equation: “Whatever is conditioned is impermanent and whatever is impermanent is conditioned. Whatever is not conditioned is not impermanent and whatever is not impermanent is not conditioned.”
In Buddhism, the doctrine of the impermanence of conditioned entities is interwoven with the doctrine of causality. The fact that an entity is conditioned by previous causes and moments makes it subject to impermanence. The doctrine of impermanence was further refined into the doctrine of momentariness. This doctrine postulates a process of momentary arising and cessation on the micro level that happens so fast that it is perceived as a continuity.'"`UNIQ--ref-00000FA7-QINU`"'
The following presentation will highlight different definitions and classifications of what the terms conditioned and impermanent might mean for a number of selected Tibetan Buddhist masters in their interpretations of the true nature of the mind. Their literary works are invariably based, directly or indirectly, upon Indian Buddhist śāstras translated into Tibetan.
The point of the exploration in general is to facilitate access to the insights of Tibetan Buddhist masters as they are formulated within the framework of a philosophical discussion. A characteristic feature of their statements is that they are not based on intellectual speculation, but on meditative experience.
Here, we will be concerned mainly with the interpretation of statements pertaining to this issue in two Indian śāstras, the Ratnagotravibhāga and the Madhyāntavibhāga, both attributed to Maitreya. However, as we will see, some of our Tibetan authors also draw on Indian works on Buddhist logic, epistemology, and ontology such as Dharmakīrti’s Pramāṇavārttika, Vasubandhu’s Abhidharmakośa, and Asaṅga’s Abhidharmasamuccaya. The latter texts were studied in the monastic colleges of Tibet in the form of simplified manuals that constitute their own literary genre known as “Collected Topics” (Bsdus grwa) and “Classifications of Mind” (blo rigs).'"`UNIQ--ref-00000FA8-QINU`"'
In Buddhism, a mind conditioned by “actions” (karmasaṃkleśa) and “defilements” (kleśasaṃkleśa) is by definition a changeable mind—or one could even say—an unstable mind. As different mental factors make their appearance in our minds, our mental states change. Over the course of a day, an ordinary mind experiences many different mental states or factors caused by various defilements. But what should we think about the ultimate nature of the mind?
The mind or mental state in which the ultimate nature of mind is experienced, is considered the goal of the Buddhist path. It is called the enlightened mind, the true nature that is revealed when kleśa (“defilements”) and karma have subsided. This observation leaves us with two fundamental questions: Is this ultimate nature also described as conditioned and impermanent? Second, if this is the case, why is ultimate nature described in such a way? I will return to these questions below.
In order to introduce the selected Tibetan authors and their works, it may be helpful to reiterate that the so-called “Empty in itself'"`UNIQ--ref-00000FA9-QINU`"'-Empty of other”'"`UNIQ--ref-00000FAA-QINU`"' distinction that arose in Tibet is based on different interpretations of the nature of the mind or the so called “buddha-nature.” These interpretations stem from different readings of the seminal text for the presentation of the buddha-nature, the Ratnagotravibhāga (hereafter abbreviated as RGV). The Buddha nature teachings are traditionally associated with the so-called third turning of the wheel of the Dharma, which the “Empty of other” proponents as well as other thinkers assert to be the highest level of the Buddhist teachings, following the division of the Buddha’s teachings provided in the seventh chapter of the Saṃdhinirmocanasūtra into three stages or wheels of doctrine, the first two being classified as provisional and the third and final stage as definitive.'"`UNIQ--ref-00000FAB-QINU`"'
In the RGV the nature of the mind is described in a way that lends itself to various interpretations. More than fifty commentaries'"`UNIQ--ref-00000FAC-QINU`"' were written in Tibet based on this śāstra. Some were composed by authors classified as proponents of the “Empty in itself” philosophy and others by proponents of the “Empty of other” philosophy. The latter were often accused of interpreting the RGV’s statements too literally, taking the true nature of the mind to be a truly existent entity which was anathema to the Madhyamaka teachings based on the so-called second turning of the wheel of the Dharma. There was also the question of the qualities attributed to buddha-nature. If it contains qualities (as the RGV says it does) how can it be empty at the same time? The ontological status of the nature of the mind vis-à-vis the nature of emptiness is a central topic much discussed in the Tibetan tradition.
In this article, I will focus on explanations by selected authors, some of which have been classified as proponents of the “empty of other” philosophy. It is by now generally accepted that their works have been underrepresented, if not misrepresented, within the Tibetan scholastic tradition, partly as a consequence of the political persecution of the Jonang school. (Burchardi, "How Can a Momentary and Conditioned Mind Be Integral to Gzhan Stong?, 55–57)Unsurprisingly, the Buddha often expressed his appreciation of trees and other plants. According to one story in the Vinaya monastic code, a tree spirit appeared to him and complained that a monk had chopped down its tree. In response, the Buddha prohibited monastics from damaging trees or bushes, including cutting off limbs, picking flowers, or even plucking green leaves. One wonders what he would say about our casual destruction of whole ecosystems today.
We may also wonder about the larger pattern: why religious founders so often experience their spiritual transformation by leaving human society and going into the wilderness by themselves. Following his baptism, Jesus went into the desert, where he fasted for forty days and nights. Mohammed's revelations occurred when he retreated into a cave, where the archangel Gabriel appeared to him. The Khaggavisana Sutta (Rhinoceros Horn Sutra), one of the earliest in the Pali canon, encourages monks to wander alone in the forest, like a rhinoceros. Milarepa lived and practiced in a cave by himself for many years, as did many Tibetan yogis after him. Today, in contrast, most of us meditate inside buildings with screened windows, which insulate us from insects, the hot sun, and chilling winds. There are many advantages to this, of course, but is something significant also lost?
Although we normally relate to nature in a utilitarian way, the natural world is an interdependent community of living beings that invites us into a different kind of relationship. The implication is that withdrawing into it, especially by oneself, can disrupt our usual ways of seeing and open us up to an alternative experience. Does that also point to why we enjoy being in nature so much? We find it healing, even when we don't understand why or how, but clearly it has something to do with the fact that the natural world offers us a temporary escape from our instrumentalized lives. (Read the entire article here.)
A monk asked Zhaozhou: ‘‘Does a dog have buddha-nature?’’ Zhaozhou replied: ‘‘No.’’
This pithy exchange between an unidentified Buddhist monk and the Tang dynasty Chan master Zhaozhou Congshen (778–897) is perhaps the best-known example of a Chan gong’an, or ‘"public case." Although the passage occurs in a collection of Zhaozhou's sayings supposedly compiled by his disciples, its notoriety is due to a Song dynasty master, Wumen Huikai (1183–1260), who placed this exchange at the beginning of his famous gong’an collection, Gateless Barrier of the Chan Tradition (Chanzong wumen guan, 1228).[1] Wumen’s compilation, consisting of forty-four such exchanges and anecdotes accompanied by Wumen’s comments, is one of the most important works of Chan literature. And as the first case in Wumen’s collection, "Zhaozhou’s dog" became the single most influential gong’an in the Chinese Chan, Korean Son, and Japanese Zen traditions. It is often the first and sometimes the only gong’an assigned to monks, and many traditional commentators claim, following Wumen’s lead, that this single gong’an holds the key to all others.
Wumen’s work was neither the earliest nor the most comprehensive compilation of Chan cases. Indeed, the Gateless Barrier is relatively short and straightforward in comparison to two earlier collections, the Blue Cliff Record of Chan Master Foguo Yuanwu (Foguo Yuanwu Chanshi Biyan lu), published in 1128, and the Congrong Hermitage Record of the Commentaries by Old Wansong on the Case and Verse [Collection] by Reverend Jue of Tiantong [Mountain] (Wansong laoren pingzhang Tiantong Jue heshang songgu Congrongan lu), published in 1224. The cases that
make up these texts are each based on an individual anecdote, verbal exchange, or quandary known as the benze (original edict), to which has been added comments in prose and verse brushed by later masters. Whereas the Gateless Barrier contains forty-four such anecdotes accompanied by a brief comment and verse by Wumen, the Blue Cliff Record and Congrong Hermitage Record each contain one hundred cases including several layers of appended judgments, verses, and interlinear glosses. (The same "original edict" may appear in two or more collections, but the exegesis will invariably differ. More will be said about the structure of these
collections below.) Many more gong’an collections gained currency in China, and the Chan tradition would come to speak of seventeen hundred authoritative cases (although this number was probably not meant to be taken literally). By the end of the Song the gong’an had assumed a central role in the ideological, literary, and institutional identity of the Chan school.
Popular books on Chan and Zen Buddhism present gong’an as intentionally incoherent or meaningless. They are, it is claimed, illogical paradoxes or unsolvable riddles intended to frustrate and short-circuit the intellect in order to quell
thought and bring the practitioner to enlightenment. This understanding of gong’an is allied with a view of Chan as an iconoclastic and anti-intellectual tradition that rejects scripture, doctrine, philosophy, and indeed all forms of conceptual understanding in favor of unmediated or "pure" experience. Gong’an are intended, according to this view, not to communicate ideas so much as to induce a transformative experience. To grasp at the literal meaning of a Chan case is to
miss its point.
Recently scholars have begun to question the instrumental view of Chan that underlies this approach to Chan cases, arguing that it is based on a misreading of the historical and ethnographic record.[2] Chan ranks among the most ritualistic forms of Buddhist monasticism, and a master’s enlightenment is constituted within a prescribed set of institutional and ritual forms.[3] Moreover, the notion that Chan is designed to induce a nonconceptual or pure experience can be traced in part to late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century Japanese intellectuals such as D. T. Suzuki and Nishida Kitarō, who were culling from Western sources, notably William James.[4] The notion that Chan is anti-intellectual and repudiates "words and letters" is belied by the fact that the Chan tradition produced the largest literary corpus of any Buddhist school in East Asia.[5] This corpus consists in large part of "recorded sayings" (yulu) and "records of the transmission of the flame" (chuandenglu) texts—texts recounting the careers and teachings of past patriarchs from which the original edicts were drawn.
Scholars now appreciate that Chan is more complex than early apologists and enthusiasts cared to admit; it is no longer possible to reduce Chan practice and Chan literature to a mere means intended to engender a singular and ineffable
spiritual experience. Accordingly, scholars of Chan gong’an have begun to attend to the institutional context and literary history of the genre,[6] and one scholar has devoted an entire monograph to the folkloric themes that appear in a single case.[7] Be that as it may, little progress has been made in deciphering the doctrinal and exegetical intent of Chan gong’an; it would appear that scholars remain reluctant to treat gong’an as a form of exegesis at all. This reluctance may be due to the enduring legacy of an earlier apologetic mystification of the gong’an literature. The primary objective of this chapter is to demonstrate that such reluctance is misguided and that it is indeed possible to recover the original meaning and doctrinal purport of at least some of the cases. The task is not easy, however, as the cases are philosophically subtle and hermeneutically sophisticated, and the authors of the collections delighted in obscure allusions, clever puns, and deft wordplay. (Sharf, "How to Think with Chan Gong’an," 205–7)
Notes
My thanks to Charlotte Furth and Elizabeth Horton Sharf for their comments and
suggestions on earlier drafts of this chapter and to Ling Hon Lam for his meticulous
editorial attention.
- T 2005:48.292c20–24. The exchange is also featured in case no. 18 of the Wansong Laoren pingzhang Tiantong Jue heshang songgu Congrongan lu, T 2004:48.238b21–39a28. Textual details concerning Zhaozhou’s recorded sayings (Zhaozhou Zhenji Chanshi yulu) will be found below.
- Faure, The Rhetoric of Immediacy and Chan Insights and Oversights; Foulk, "Myth, Ritual, and Monastic Practice"; Sharf, "The Zen of Japanese Nationalism," "Whose Zen?" and "Experience."
- Foulk and Sharf, "On the Ritual Use"; Sharf, "Ritual."
- Sharf, "Whose Zen?"
- On the sometimes controversial place of literary endeavors in the Song monastic institution, see esp. Gimello, "Mārga and Culture"; and Keyworth, "Transmitting the Lamp," 281–324.
- See esp. Heine and Wright, eds., The Kōan.
- Heine, Shifting Shape.
- Hu-jan nien-ch'i, ming wei wu-mingc
- Suddenly a thought rose; this is called ignorance
This idea has baffled many modern scholars as it has traditionally charmed many a Far Eastern Buddhist. What is meant by "suddenly"? What constitutes "thought"? The most recent translator of the AFM, Yoshito Hakeda, has appended this remark to the passage:
- There has been much discussion on the meaning of hu-jan in connection with the origin of ignorance, mainly on the basis of interpretations proposed by Fa-tsang,d (1) that ignorance alone becomes the source of defiled states of being. It is the subtlest; no other state of being can be the origin of this. It is therefore said in the text that ignorance emerges suddenly. (2) Commenting on a quotation from a sūtra, he says "suddenly" means "beginninglessly," since the passage quoted makes clear that there is no other state of being prior to the state of ignorance. (3) The word "suddenly" is not used from the stand point of time, but is used to account for the emergence of ignorance without any instance of inception.
- . . . A monk of Minge China, glosses "suddenly" as pu-chüeh,f which may mean "unconsciously" or "without being aware of the reason."
- . . . If hu-jan is a translation of a Sanskrit word, the original word asasmāt may be posited. Akasmāt means "without reason" or "accidentally."'"`UNIQ--ref-00000001-QINU`"'
I have been able to trace a hitherto unidentified quotation in the Ratnagotravibhāga(vrtti) (RGV(V)) to the Tathāgatagarbhasūtra (TGS). The sentence in question occurs in the RGV(V) in the context of the explanation of the three svabhāvas of the dhātu, viz., dharmakāya, tathatā and gotra, the three key terms of verses 1.27-28, which constitute the central section of the RGVV. The quotation is part of the commentary on the third aspect, i.e., gotra, and is placed after the last of the three interpretations of the compound tathāgatagarbha. In this context the dhātu of living beings, i.e., their buddha essence, has
just been declared to mean "cause" (hetu).
'"`UNIQ--poem-00002A21-QINU`"'
In the presentation to follow I would like to set out two spiritual traditions for us to consider: the image-likeness tradition based on Genesis 1:26 and developed by the Latin and Greek Fathers of the Church until approximately A.D. 1200, and the tathāgatagarbha teachings on Buddha-nature in Mahayana Buddhism, which flourished in India and then spread to Tibet and other parts of the Far East in the first six centuries C.E. I shall do this bby presenting two texts: the Golden Epistle of William of St, Thierry, and the Ratnagotravibhāga (third to fifth centuries A.D.), variously attributed to Saramati or Maitreya. My thesis here is that while the language and concepts used in these two treatises are different, and the two worldviews of which they are representative also vary widely, we can find nonetheless underlying themes that express central concerns of each tradition, especially concerning the brith of a basic nature in the person, and the inability of either sin or defilements (kleśa) to cover over that nature that is coming to birth.'"`UNIQ--ref-00002A24-QINU`"' (Groves, "Image-likeness and Tathāgatagarbha," 97–98)
The contributions to this volume were presented at the gzhan stong panel organized by Klaus-Dieter Mathes (University of Vienna) at the Twelfth Seminar of the International Association for Tibetan Studies in Vancouver, Canada, in August 2010. Its full name was "The History of the Rang stong/Gzhan stong Distinction from its Beginning through the Ris-med Movement." The contributors were, besides the organizer, Karl Brunnhölzl (Tsadra Foundation), Anne Burchardi (The University of Copenhagen and The Royal Library of Denmark), Douglas Duckworth (Temple University), David Higgins (University of Vienna), Yaroslav Komarovski (University of Nebraska-Lincoln), and Tsering Wangchuk (University of San Francisco). It is regretted that Karl Brunnhölzl and Douglas Duckworth were unable to include their work in the present publication. (Mathes, introduction, 4–5)
In this chapter I examine some medieval Buddhist doctrines that, at least on the surface, seem similarly strange and implausible. Indeed, some of the Buddhist notions to be examined below were perplexing to audiences in their own day, much as discussions of brain transplants are perplexing to us today. On the Indian side, I will begin with the notion of nirodha-samāpatti, a meditative state akin to a vegetative coma in which all consciousness has ceased. I will then turn to a class of beings known as “beings without conception” (asaṃjñika-sattvāḥ), denizens of a celestial realm who are devoid of sentience, thought, and consciousness. In both cases, an insentient state seems to be followed by (or gives rise to) a sentient state, which poses serious challenges to the classical Buddhist understanding of karma. On the Chinese side, we will consider the debate over the buddha-nature of insentient objects—can an insentient thing such as a wall or roof tile attain buddhahood and preach the dharma? This doctrine too could be (and was) seen as a threat to the coherence of Buddhist teachings.
Modern scholars tend to approach such doctrines as the products of intelligent but misguided scholastics struggling to make sense of the universe, all the while hobbled by the dictates of tradition, scripture, and a prescientific understanding of the cosmos. They are the proverbial schoolmen calculating how many angels can dance on the head of a pin. But I would suggest another perspective. Such theories, I argue, serve as frames of reference for pondering issues of personal identity, ethical responsibility, sentience, and death. Given that we ourselves are still far from clarity on these issues, and given that we too devise fanciful thought experiments to help gain a conceptual toehold, perhaps it is time to look afresh at what the Buddhists might have been up to.[11] (Sharf, preamble, 144–45)
Notes
11. For an articulate defense of Buddhist scholasticism, along different lines, see Paul John Griffiths, “Scholasticism: The Possible Recovery of an Intellectual Practice,” in Scholasticism: Cross-Cultural and Comparative Perspectives, ed. José Ignacio Cabezón (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1998), 201–35.As a summary of the Trikāya doctrine this is, of course, oversimplified. We are dealing here with a complex theory which underwent many accretions and refinements, as Buddhists continued down through the centuries to speculate on the nature of Buddhahood, on the nature of reality, and on the relationship between them.'"`UNIQ--ref-00002A7F-QINU`"' It is hardly surprising, then, that attempts to plot the course of such arcane speculations have not always been entirely successful in reaching a clear consensus, although the arguments advanced, even in recent writing on the subject, do tend to follow similar lines. A good example of this is the authoritative treatment by Nagao, "On the Theory of Buddha-body (Buddha-kāya)," first published in English in 1973.'"`UNIQ--ref-00002A80-QINU`"' Generally Nagao distinguishes three phases: an initial one-body theory, a two-body theory, and the three-body theory elaborated by the Yogācāras. According to him (p. 104), the two-body theory (i.e., rūpa-kāya and dharma-kāya) "became stabilized in a variety of earlier sūtras,'"`UNIQ--ref-00002A81-QINU`"' and in early Mahāyāna sūtras, the Prajñāpāramitā, the Saddharmapuṇḍarīka, and so forth. The rūpa-kāya is the Buddha seen in a human body, while the dharma-kāya is the Buddha's personality seen in the dharma or dharma-nature." Elsewhere (pp. 106–7) Nagao states that the two-body theory was the one held "until the time of the Prajñāpāramitā Sūtra and the time of Nāgārjuna," even though the raw materials for the third body, the saṃbhoga-kāya, were also to hand before the time of Asaṅga and Vasubandhu, as a consequence of the bodhisattva-conccpt and the idea that a bodhisattva's performance of meritorious actions produced a body which was their manifest "reward." Nagao's article contains many valuable observations, but, as we shall see, some of its assertions are rather too imprecise, both chronologically and philosophically, to be of much use in unravelling the early development of the doctrine at issue. Another recent treatment of the subject by Makransky (1989) also describes certain features of the putative earlier two-body theory before the Yogācāras remodelled it (see esp. pp. 51–53), and distinguishes it sharply from the previous Mainstream'"`UNIQ--ref-00002A82-QINU`"' (in this case, Sarvāstivādin) formulations. This analysis, too, is open to question in certain respects, as I shall show. In these and other articles on the subject'"`UNIQ--ref-00002A83-QINU`"' there is a general tendency to postulate a one-body/two-body/three-body progression, in terms of which a single personality is divided into a physical and a "spiritual" body, and then the physical body is further split in two, yielding the final complement of three. Some writers, however, point to the existence of three bodies even in the Pali sources, what one scholar has called the "primitive triad," i.e., pūti- or cātur-mahābhūtika-kāya, mano-maya-kāya, and dhamma-kāya.'"`UNIQ--ref-00002A84-QINU`"' The first is the corruptible physical body formed out of the four elements, while the second is the mind-made body with which the Buddha visits the celestial realms (believed by some to be a forerunner of the saṃbhoga-kāya); the third is the so-called "Dhamma-body." Now, although both these ways of approaching the subject—the assumption of a linear process, and the belief that the Pāli Canon contains an embryonic Trikāya schema—raise certain difficulties, I do not propose in this paper to discuss the evolution of the Trikāya theory in its entirety, since that would be a mammoth undertaking. What I wish to do is address one aspect of it only, viz., the early development of the idea of dharma-kāya, in the hope that clarifying this will open the way to a better understanding of Mahāyāna buddhology as a whole. (Harrison, introduction, 44–46)
Read more here . . .
The earliest masters of this period who quote or refer to the RGV are Maitrīpa (1007/1010-?), Jñānaśrīmitra (ca. 980–1030), and Ratnākaraśānti (late 10th to early 11th century).'"`UNIQ--ref-000032B9-QINU`"' Maitrīpa was the common disciple of Jñānaśrīmitra and Ratnākaraśānti, and, according to a story in Tibetan documents, rediscovered a Sanskrit manuscript of the RGV in a stūpa in Magadha.
If this rediscovery story is a historical event, Jñānaśrīmitra and Ratnākaraśānti would have received the teaching of the RGV from their common disciple Maitrīpa; but we have no concrete witness to corroborate it.
Maitrīpa’s knowledge of the RGV is attested by a quotation of RGV II. 61b in his Pañcatathāgatamudrāvivaraṇa; he introduces a Nirākāravijñānavādin’s propounding the arising of the Dharmakāya from the Saṃbhogakāya and Nirmāṇakāya, but does not discuss Buddha-nature.'"`UNIQ--ref-000032BA-QINU`"' In contrast to Maitrīpa, who does not discuss Buddha-nature, we find extensive discussions of the topic in compositions of Jñānaśrīmitra and Ratnākaraśānti.'"`UNIQ--ref-000032BB-QINU`"' In the present paper, I shall focus on quotations from the RGV in Jñānaśrīmitra’s Sākārasiddhiśāstra and Sākārasaṃgrahasūtra, and on his understanding of the RGV, so as to shed light on the reception of the RGV in the early 11th century. (Kano, introductory remarks, 7–8)
This paper will examine Dge rtse Mahāpaṇḍita’s doxography, considering the way in which he attempts to demonstrate that the Great Madhyamaka of other-emptiness is ultimate within the Buddhist doctrinal history originating from India. According to Dge rtse Mahāpaṇḍita, the Great Madhyamaka of other-emptiness is said to have been the intent of the Last Tuming of the Wheel of the Dharma which is of definitive meaning, teaches the Buddha-nature (tathāgatagarbha), and, as pointed out by Duckworth, "accords with the Great Perfection"'"`UNIQ--ref-00000005-QINU`"' (rdzogs chen). Dge rtse Mahāpaṇḍita’s gzhang stong view is explicitly taught in the following doxographical texts: the Bde gshegs snying po'i rgyan, the Grub mtha'i rnam gzhag nges don dgongs gsal, the Rton pa bzhi ldan gyi gtam, the first chapter of the Rnying ma rgyud 'bum dkar chag lha'i rnga bo che,'"`UNIQ--ref-00000006-QINU`"' and the Sangs rgyas gnyis pa'i dgongs pa'i rgyan,'"`UNIQ--ref-00000007-QINU`"' which is Dge rtse Mahāpaṇḍita's commentary on the Gsang sngags lam gyi rim pa sal ba'i sgron me, a gter ma of Nyang ral Nyi ma 'od zer (1124/1136-1192/1204).
This paper will also suggest that Dge rtse Mahāpaṇḍita should be recognized as a forerunner of the ris med movement in Khams, as supported by the following facts: his view on the Great Madhyamaka of other-emptiness embraces the major practice lineages (sgrub brgyud)—Jo nang pa, Bka' brgyud pa, Sa skya pa, early Dge lugs pa, Rnying ma pa, and Zhi byed—within a single overriding intent of the Buddha’s teachings;'"`UNIQ--ref-00000008-QINU`"' Dge rtse Mahāpaṇḍita as the teacher of Zhe chen dbon sprul ’Gyur med mthu stobs rnam rgyal, also known as Zhe chen Mahāpaṇḍita (b. 1787), who was a gzhan stong pa,'"`UNIQ--ref-00000009-QINU`"' and who in tum was the teacher of the three masters Kong sprul (1813-99), Mkhyen brtse'i dbang po (1820–2), and Dpal sprul (1808-87).'"`UNIQ--ref-0000000A-QINU`"' Dge rtse Mahāpaṇḍita’s Legs bshad gser gyi thur ma, which is his response to the Lta ba'i gsung mgur by Lcang skya Rol pa'i rdo rje (1717-86),'"`UNIQ--ref-0000000B-QINU`"' would hint at the seeds of the ris med movement which grew up among the three schools, the Sa skya, Bka' brgyud, and Rnying ma.'"`UNIQ--ref-0000000C-QINU`"' With this paper, then, I hope to add to our understanding of the practice lineages of Indo-Tibetan Madhyamaka. (Makidono, introduction, 77–80)
Du III au VII siècle de notre ère, selon la chronologie la plus souvent admise, la pensée bouddhique en Inde a trouvé une expression particulièrement brillante dans l'école dite du Vijñānavāda «doctrine de la connaissance». Les premiers ouvrages ressortissant à cette école en tant que telle peuvent être datés du début du Ill siècle. Au cours de ce siècle et du suivant, elle constitue peu à peu ses thèses, notamment à travers les ouvrages de Maitreya-nātha, d'Asaṅga et de Vasubandhu l'ancien. Je désignerai les développements de cette période sous le nom de Vijñānavāda ancien. Au V siècle, Vasubandhu le jeune cherche à fixer et à synthétiser la doctrine; ses travaux ouvrent la période de ce que j'ai appelé le Vijñānavāda classique, caractérisée par une abondante littérature de commentaires qu'illustrent en particulier les noms de Sthiramati, Dharmapāla et Hiuan-tsang. Le present exposé s'attachera à retracer brièvement l'histoire du Vijñānavāda, puis à exposer la doctrine classique. (May, "La philosophie bouddhique idéaliste," 265)
English Translation:
The Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra consists of ten chapters, named respectively —(1) Rāvaṇādhyeṣaṇā parivarta, (2) Sarvadharmasamuccaya parivarta, (3) Anityatā parivarta, (4) Abhisamaya parivarta, (5) Tathāgata - nityānityatva, (6) Kṣaṇika parivarta, (7) Nairmāṇika parivarta, (8) Māṃsabhakṣaṇa parivarta, (9) Dhāraṇīparivarta, and (10) the Parisamāpti parivarta, which bears no special name.
Throughout the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra the speaker is Buddha himself. The first chapter of the book is addressed to Rāvaṇa, while the person spoken to in the remaining nine chapters is Mahāmati. Rāvaṇa prayed to Buddha for the solution of two questions, viz. : (1) what is the distinction between dharma and adharma, and (2) how could one pass beyond both dharma and adharma? Buddha’s answers to these questions form the subject-matter of the first chapter. Thereafter 108 questions were asked by Mahāmati, and
Buddha’s answers to these questions form the topics of the remaining nine chapters. (Vidyābhūṣaṇa, para 10–11, 833)
The present paper provides an annotated translation of Sajjana’s Mahāyānottaratantraśāstropadeśa along with a reading text of this Sanskrit work (a critical edition of which is under preparation for publication). I started to work on this text in 2005 when I received a copy of a photographic image of a manuscript containing it from Professor Jikidō Takasaki. I published a study dealing with this manuscript in 2006 (Kano 2006b) and provided a critical edition of the Sanskrit text in my doctoral thesis, submitted to Hamburg University in 2006 (Kano 2006a). I also prepared a preliminary annotated translation of this text in 2006 and gave the draft to Karl Brunnhölzl together with my unpublished doctoral thesis.
It came as a surprise for me to learn that Brunnhölzl copied and published the draft of my translation under his name in his book When the Clouds Part: The Uttaratantra and Its Meditative Tradition as a Bridge between Sūtra and Tantra (Boston/London: Snow Lion, 2014), pp. 461–472. Brunnhölzl (p. 1121, n. 1718) says in his book: “All topical headings are inserted by the translator (corresponding to my outline above). Though my translation sometimes differs from Kano’s, I am indebted to both his translation and his Sanskrit edition of the text with critical apparatus (Kano 2006, 513–35), which in turn owe much to Profs. Schmithausen and Isaacson as well as Dr. Diwakar Acharya.” The fact is, however, that he has in many cases simply copied my earlier work.
Since the translation used by Brunnhölzl was an unpublished draft, my earlier mistakes found their way into his book, inasmuch as that draft was based in turn on an early draft of my Sanskrit edition, which itself contains serious misreadings, especially in verses 3, 6, 7, 8, 9, 11, 12, 13, and 15, along with a number of errors in the interlinear glosses. All his striving to make sense of my misreadings of the Sanskrit have been to no avail; his interpretations and analysis (Brunnhölzl, ibid. pp. 288–300 ) based on these errors need to be fundamentally revised. I have since made improvements to the Sanskrit edition and translation, and this is reflected in the differences between his published translation and the one I offer here.[1] (Kano, preface, 1–2)
Notes
1. I am grateful for a number of suggestions and improvements of my critical edition of Sajjana's Mahāyānottaratantraśāstropadeśa to Prof. Harunaga Isaacson, Prof. Diwakar Acharya, Prof. Lambert Schmithausen, Dr. Pascale Hugon, and all participants of a workshop “From Kashmir to Tibet: A set of proto-Śāradā palm leaves and two works on the Ratnagotravibhāga” held on 21. April 2015 at Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften Institut für Kultur-und Geistesgeschichte Asiens. I would like to thank to Dr. David Reigle and Mr. Philip Pierce for much valuable information regarding difficult points of the text and English proof-reading of my translation.looks at us with complete love, we can allow it in and feel the same.
Tonglen, which means taking and sending, is a meditation practice that cultivates unconditional compassion and love. In Tonglen, as we open to our own or others' suffering and allow it to be transformed into compassion, we awaken to the compassion and love that is at the core of who we are. We first bring loving awareness to ourselves, and then we exchange self for others. Taking and sending for ourselves can unearth feelings of self-hatred, low self-worth, deficiency, and unworthiness, among others. As we gradually work through these feelings and open to increased kindness and compassion for ourselves, it helps heal our core wounds and loosens our self-fixation, facilitating a deeper opening into compassion and love. (Read more here)In Dzogchen practice, the most important thing is the recognition of inner space or emptiness. If you can practice this, then whatever phenomena of samsara arise are dissolved into wisdom mind. For this to happen, your recognition of mind nature has to be unwaver-ing. If you can achieve this, then anything that arises in your mind-stream-any emotions, thoughts, likes, dislikes, perceptions of good and bad, and so on-is naturally released without effort.
The problem is, when phenomena arise from confusion and igno-rance, they dominate your perception and result in suffering. However, habitual negative emotions like fear can be naturally liberated by allowing them to dissolve into the inner space of mind. You can do this because the essence of these habitual emotions is actually wisdom.
The key point is to let go of the grasping within the emotion and see its true nature. When habitual emotions arise, you neither sup-press nor get caught up in them. You do not get carried away by clinging to self and other. If you just allow the emotion to dissolve, the energy trapped within it is released and blossoms as wisdom. (Read more here)OverviewSlides.2FBuddhaNature