Chapter IV. Unusual Deaths and Extraordinary Deaths
Some of you may ask this: How can death be wonderful and extraordinary? If we pause for a moment and think through this carefully, we will discover that the notion of a wonderful death is not at all far-fetched. When we have a correct understanding of the Buddha's teachings, we will see through the cloak of mystery about death and be totally at peace with both life and death.
The Ch'an master Shan-chao of Fen-yang said it well, "One lives for all beings and dies for all beings."
There is a wonderful story about the way in which Shan-chao passed away.
When Shan-chao was alive, there was a powerful magistrate by the name of Lee Hou.
Lee had always wanted Shan-chao to become the abbot of Cheng-tien Temple and offered the position to the master on three separate occasions. When the master repeatedly declined the offer, Lee was furious. So, he ordered a messenger to go to the master and personally escort the master to the temple. As the messenger was about to leave, the magistrate told him explicitly, "Listen carefully, if you do not come back with the master, your life will not be spared!"
The messenger was petrified. He went to the Ch'an master and begged him to leave with him for Cheng-tien Temple.
When the master learned of the predicament of the messenger, he realized he did not have much of a choice. He gathered all his disciples and told them, "On the one hand, I do not want to leave you all here to become the abbot of Cheng-tien Temple. On the other hand, if I take you all along, I am afraid you will not be able to keep up with me."
One of the disciples came up and said, "Master, I want to go with you. I can walk eighty miles a day."
The master shook his head and sighed, "Too slow. You cannot keep up with me."
Another disciple called out, "I will go; I can walk one hundred and twenty miles a day."
The master also shook his head and said, "Too slow, too slow."
The disciples looked at each other in puzzlement. They wondered: How fast can the master travel? At that moment, another disciple quietly came forward. He bowed to the master and said, "Master, I understand. I will go with you."
The master asked, "How fast can you walk?"
The disciple replied, "However fast you can travel, I can too."
Hearing this, the master smiled and said, "Very well, let's go!"
Smiling and without so much of a stir, the Ch'an master passed away. The disciple who had volunteered stood respectfully beside the master and passed away, too. How carefree it is to leave this world at will!
The Ch'an master Te-pu of the Sung dynasty was equally charming when he passed away.
One day, he gathered his disciples around him and said, "I am about to leave you.
Though I am curious about the kind of funeral arrangements you will prepare for me, I am not sure if I have the time to come back and enjoy your offerings. Rather than we all worrying about each other after I depart, why don't we spend some time together and enjoy the offerings now."
The disciples felt their teacher was acting very strangely, but they dared not disobey their teacher. They prepared the funeral service and paid their respects to their teacher thinking it was all a joke. The next day, Te-pu did indeed pass away.
Some of you may think it is very strange to have the funeral service before one passes away, but it is actually quite humorous and practical.
There is an old Chinese saying which captures this sentiment well. It goes like this, "Offering a drop of water to a person while he is alive is better than offering him fountains of water after he departs the world." It is better that we are respectful to our parents while they are alive than to give them an elaborate funeral service when they pass away.
The Ch'an master Tsung-yuan of the Sung dynasty also looked at death without attachment. He was eighty-three when he attained enlightenment and was neither attached to life nor to death. When he felt it was time for him to leave this world, he did it with grace and dignity. He even composed an elegy for himself:
In this world, none of us should live beyond our time,
For after death, we all eventually become dusts in the grave.
As I am now eighty and three;
I write this elegy to bid my body farewell.
The manner in which the Ch'an master Hsing-kung passed away is also legendary.
At that time, there was a ferocious bandit by the name of Hsu Ming. He killed many people and caused a great deal of suffering. Hsing-kung could not bear to see the villagers suffer, so he decided to go and plead with the bandit.
Though he realized that his life was in great danger, he had no fear.
While he ate his meal with the bandit, he wrote this elegy for himself:
Faced with calamity in the midst of upheaval, I am a jolly and fearless fellow.
There is no time more perfect than now, Cut me in half if you please.
Hsing-kung's compassion and courage converted the bandit, and many lives were saved because of him. Later, when the master realized the end of his life was at hand, he told his disciples that he wanted to die floating on the river. His disciples prepared him a tub and punched a hole at the bottom of the tub. The master climbed in with a flute in his hand. The tub floated down the river amid the music of the flute. The master also left behind a poem about why he chose to leave the world this way. The poem goes like this:
A sitting or standing death cannot compare to a floating departure.
It saves firewood and the ground is not disturbed.
Leaving empty-handed is quite free and joyous.
Who can understand me? Venerable Chuan-tzu can.
At the turn of the century, there was a monk in Rangoon, Burma by the name of Miao-shan. In 1934, Miao-shan became ill with heat stroke and malnutrition.
Huge boils grew on his feet and back.
Even so, he continued to make prostrations to the Buddha on the hot cobblestones. The boils opened and became infected, with pus and blood oozing out. He was unfazed by his condition and refused medical treatment. He did not even want to take a bath, and nobody knew what to do. On the day of his death, one of his disciples again suggested that he should take a bath.
This time, the venerable nodded and replied, "I am glad that you asked me to take a bath; it is time." Having said this, he went into the bathroom and happily took his bath. The disciple, who was worried about the venerable, stood by the door and urged the venerable to take a real good bath to cool off his body. The venerable chuckled and replied through the door, "I know. I will take a good bath today as this is my last bath."
Several hours passed. His disciple could only hear the sound of running water, but the venerable was nowhere in sight. He pushed the door open, only to discover that the venerable had passed away. The venerable was still standing, but his heart had stopped. When we can let go of our attachments, we will no longer fear death.
There are many more examples of Ch'an masters dying peaceful deaths.
The Ch'an master Tan-hsia Tien-jan died leaning on his walking staff.
Venerable Hui-hsiang died kneeling down with a sutra in his hand.
The Ch'an master Liang-chieh of the Tang dynasty had complete control over the timing of his death; he was asked to stay alive for seven more days and he did. The Ch'an master Yu-an came back to life after he had been in his coffin for three days.
The Ch'an master Ku-ling Shen-tsan asked his disciples, "Do you know what soundless samadhi means?"
When his disciples answered their master in the negative, the master closed his lips tightly and died instantly. The ways in which Pang Yun and his family passed away were even more varied and interesting. His daughter Ling-chao sat on her father's chair and passed away, while Pang Yun himself lay down to die.
When his son, who was working in the fields, heard of their passing away, he put down his plow and died while standing. The wife of Pang Yun saw that all of them had passed away, so she pushed open a gap in a boulder and went inside.
Before she went into the boulder, she left behind this verse:
To die while sitting, lying down, or standing is not unusual Mrs. Pang simply let go and departed.
With both hands she pushed open a seamless rock and left without a trace for others to see.
When we have the wisdom to see through life and death, we, too, can pass away as painlessly and effortlessly as some of the Ch'an masters we talked about today. With birth comes death.
Whether we are Buddhists or not, we still have to face death one day.
Hopefully, with the Buddha's teachings, we can understand life, and therefore death. We should not be fearful of death, for death is nothing but a natural phenomenon. When we are prepared in life, then we are hopeful of what follows after death.
We make provisions for everything in life. We keep a flashlight in case of emergency or blackout. We have an umbrella for rainy days.
We pack food for long trips, and we change our wardrobes for the coming of a new season.
Likewise, we should prepare ourselves spiritually for the day when death comes knocking on our door.
Not only should we rest our hopes in the present, we should also be mindful of life after death. Amid the impermanence of life and death, we should keep in mind that the Dharma-body is eternal and the wisdom-life is timeless. Our buddha nature is everlasting!
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chan_Buddhism
https://taiwantoday.tw/news.php?post=25692&unit=20,29,35,45
4th November, 2022
No comments:
Post a Comment