Cibei Shuichan Fa

This Repentance of Samādhi Water came about because the Tang-dynasty National Master Wuda, Zhixuan, encountered the Venerable Kanaka, and was washed clean with the water of samādhi of grievances and enmities accumulated across many lifetimes. Zhixuan then set forth the essential meaning of great awakening and composed it as a text of repentance, meant to benefit all who came after — a truly great-hearted work, whose merit and virtue can have no bound or shore. What is called "samādhi" here is another name for "right reception." Not being carried away by any of the sensations — this is right reception: a true emptiness, a still concentration, in which the mind does not stir. Its essential point is simply that one seek it in oneself, and nothing more. For when a person is born into this world, unless he is of the very highest wisdom, how could he fail to commit some fault by mistake, or else find himself bound by karmic enmities from past lives? The Tathāgata, extending his vast thought of compassion, opened the gate of repentance — so that if one can, with a pure and undivided mind, repent and turn toward good, the crimes accumulated over lifetimes may melt away in a single morning, like ice. Compare it to water: a body that is soiled, once washed, cannot fail to become clean; clothing that is stained, once laundered, cannot fail to become pure; a vessel that is filthy, once rinsed, cannot fail to become clear — and the whole mechanism of it does not exceed the space of one's own heart. Hence it is said: the mind is the numinous intelligence of the body. What it does as good is answered by good; what it does as evil is answered by evil, following it as a shadow follows a form, as an echo follows a sound — and the speed of that effect never misses by so much as a hair's breadth. This is why the making of this Repentance of Samādhi Water benefits people so greatly — its merit is broad indeed. Consider: if Zhixuan, though a monk of high virtue across ten lifetimes, still bore an unpaid karmic debt from the past, how much more so an ordinary person! Long ago, Sun Hao defiled a golden image and secretly incurred punishment for it; when he confessed and repented, the disaster at once dissolved. The Vinaya master Fazuo, careless even in solitude, was severely reproached by his own teacher, and through repentance won release. Cases like these are, in truth, many. How could any ordinary person, examining his own heart, be without some cause for shame? Apart from repentance, how else could such stains be washed away? If one can truly advance along the good path, and let not a single thread of an evil thought sprout in the mind, then calamity will quietly dissolve and merit will grow — like rain nourishing the many plants, so that their life and growth flourish. Though the eye cannot see it, many receive its benefit in secret and prosper. Samādhi, then, lies only in the human mind, and need not be sought anywhere else. We have therefore written this to place at the head of this text, and had it carved into printing blocks as a further convenient benefit to others — a drawing-up of the samādhi of the great ocean, to pervade and wash through the dust-laden kalpas throughout realms as numerous as the sands of the river. Let those who look upon this still take care in which direction they turn. The first day of the seventh month, in the fourteenth year of the Yongle era. [1416 CE]

It is my humble view that, beyond what was translated at the assemblies for rendering the sacred teachings — sūtra, vinaya, and abhidharma — the works composed afterward by the many worthies were never made without some cause that moved their authors to it. Were one to set these apart and list them item by item, it would not be easy to record them all to their limit. As for this numinous text called the Water Repentance, allow me to explain its origin. Long ago, in the court of Emperor Yizong of the Tang, there was the National Master Wuda, Zhixuan. Before he had risen to fame, he once chanced to meet a monk in the capital — the place where the monk was lodging has been forgotten. This monk suffered from a disease of kāmalā, and everyone loathed him. But Zhixuan, lodging beside him, called on him again and again, without the least sign of disgust. When at last they parted ways, the monk, moved by Zhixuan's noble bearing, gave him this blessing: "Should you meet with difficulty in time to come, seek me out at Mount Chalong, in Pengzhou, in the western region of Shu — two pine trees will mark the spot." Afterward, National Master Wuda came to reside at Anguo Monastery, his virtue and the Way shining brightly, so that Emperor Yizong himself attended his Dharma seat and bestowed on him a throne of aloeswood — the emperor's favor was exceedingly generous. From that time, a human-faced sore suddenly grew on his knee, complete with eyebrows, eyes, mouth, and teeth; whenever it was fed, it would open its mouth and swallow the food exactly as a person does. He summoned physicians of every renown, but all of them stood by in silence, at a loss. Remembering the words of the monk he had once lodged beside, he finally went into the mountains to seek him out. By the time he arrived the sky had already grown dark; wandering and looking about on every side, he at last caught sight of two pines rising among the mist and clouds — the appointed sign had proven true — and he hurried toward the place. There stood lofty towers and broad halls, gold and blue-green glinting against one another, and the monk stood at the gate to receive him with great joy. He was invited to stay the night, and told the monk of his suffering. The monk said: "There is no harm in it. Beneath the cliff there is a spring — wash in it tomorrow morning, and you will be healed at once." At dawn, a boy attendant led him to the spring. Just as he was about to scoop up the water, the human-faced sore suddenly cried out: "Not yet may you wash! Your understanding reaches far and deep, and you have studied both past and present — have you ever read the account of Yuan Ang and Chao Cuo in the History of the Former Han?" He answered: "I have read it." "Since you have read it, surely you know that Yuan Ang had Chao Cuo put to death? You are Yuan Ang, and I am Chao Cuo. Chao Cuo was cut in two at the waist in the eastern marketplace — how great was that injustice! Life after life I have sought vengeance upon you, but for ten lifetimes you were a monk of high virtue, strict and pure in the precepts, and I could find no opening for my revenge. Now that you have received excessive favor and honor from the ruler of men, and thoughts of fame and gain have arisen in you, your virtue has suffered loss — and so I have finally been able to harm you. Now, through the kindness of the Venerable Kanaka, who has washed me with the Dharma-water of samādhi, from this time on I will no longer hold this enmity against you." Hearing this, Wuda was struck with dread, his spirit hardly able to stay within his body; he hurried to scoop up the water and wash the sore. The pain went through to the marrow, and he fainted and then revived; when he came to himself again, the sore had vanished. He then knew that a sage had mingled among ordinary traces, in a manner no worldly feeling could have fathomed. When he turned to look back in reverence once more, the monastery buildings could no longer be seen at all. He therefore built a hermitage on that very spot, which in time grew into a monastery. By the Zhidao era of our own Song dynasty, it was granted the name Zhide Chan Monastery, and the eminent monk Xin Shigu wrote a record of the matter in great detail. Wuda, moved at the time by this extraordinary encounter, reflected deeply that an enmity carried across so many lifetimes could never have been resolved except by meeting a sage. He therefore composed this as a rite of repentance, reciting it morning and evening, and it was later transmitted throughout the world. The text of repentance in three fascicles that exists today is this very work. Since it takes as its meaning the washing away of karmic enmity with the water of samādhi, it was named the Water Repentance. This, then, is simply Wuda's response to his extraordinary encounter with the Venerable Kanaka — rightly naming the work and establishing its meaning in gratitude for its source. I have here ventured to set down this true account and make plain what came before it, so that whoever opens this text to bow before it or recite it may know the origin from which the deeds of these earlier worthies arose, and see clearly the causes and effects that run unobscured across many kalpas.