The Lute That Makes No Sound by Itself

"Furthermore, good son, how does the bodhisattva-mahāsattva who cultivates this subtle and wondrous scripture of the great nirvāṇa accomplish and fully complete the ninth merit? Good son, the bodhisattva-mahāsattva who cultivates this subtle and wondrous scripture of the great nirvāṇa fully accomplishes five matters at the very outset. What are these five? Faith, an upright mind, moral discipline, drawing near to a good friend, and vast learning. What is meant by faith? The bodhisattva-mahāsattva has faith in the Three Jewels, that giving bears its fruit, and in the two truths; he has faith that the one vehicle's own path leads to no other destination at all, and that, for the sake of beings' swift liberation, every buddha and bodhisattva divides it into three; he has faith in the ultimate meaning, and faith in skillful means — this is what is meant by faith. Faith of this kind cannot be destroyed by any śramaṇa, any brahmin, any god, Māra, or Brahmā, nor by any being at all. Through this very faith, he attains the nature of a noble one. Whether he practices giving greatly or slightly, he draws near, in every case, to this great nirvāṇa, and does not fall into birth-and-death. It is exactly the same with moral discipline, learning, and wisdom. This is what is meant by faith. And yet, though he possesses this faith, he does not, on that account, see buddha-nature directly — this is what is meant by the bodhisattva who cultivates this great nirvāṇa accomplishing the very first of these matters."

"What is meant by an upright mind? The bodhisattva-mahāsattva holds a mind of genuine, unaffected uprightness toward every being. Every being, upon encountering the right cause and condition, gives rise to flattery and deceit — the bodhisattva is not like this. Why is this? Because he understands well that everything arises from cause and condition. The bodhisattva-mahāsattva, though he sees every kind of fault and error in beings, never, in the end, speaks of it. Why is this? For fear of giving rise to affliction — should affliction arise, he would fall into an evil destiny. And should this same bodhisattva see even the slightest wholesome deed in a being, he praises it at once. What is meant by 'wholesome' here? Namely, buddha-nature itself. Through praising this very buddha-nature, he causes beings to give rise to the mind of unsurpassed, complete awakening." At that time, the bodhisattva-mahāsattva Bright Virtuous King of Universal Illumination said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, as the Buddha has taught, the bodhisattva-mahāsattva, by praising buddha-nature, causes immeasurable beings to give rise to the mind of unsurpassed, complete awakening — this does not seem correct. Why is this? When the Tathāgata first opened this Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra, he taught that there are three kinds of patients: first, one who, whether he obtains a good physician's medicine and an attendant or not, is easily cured if he obtains them, and cannot be healed at all if he does not; second, one who, whether he obtains them or not, cannot be cured in either case; and third, one who, whether he obtains them or not, can be cured in either case. Every being is exactly the same: should he encounter a good friend, a buddha, or a bodhisattva, and hear a wondrous teaching expounded, he thereby gives rise to the mind of unsurpassed, complete awakening; and, should he not encounter this, he is unable to give rise to it — this describes the stream-enterer, the once-returner, the non-returner, the arhat, and the pratyekabuddha. As for the second kind: though he encounters a good friend, a buddha, or a bodhisattva, and hears a wondrous teaching expounded, he is, likewise, unable to give rise to this mind; and, should he not encounter this, he is, likewise, unable to give rise to it — this describes the icchantika. And, as for the third kind: whether he encounters this or not, he is, in every case, able to give rise to the mind of unsurpassed, complete awakening — this describes the bodhisattva. Should it be said that whether one encounters this or not, one gives rise, in every case, to the mind of unsurpassed, complete awakening, how, then, can the Tathāgata now say that it is through praising buddha-nature that beings are caused to give rise to the mind of unsurpassed, complete awakening?"

"World-Honored One, should it be that, whether one encounters a good friend, a buddha, or a bodhisattva, and hears a wondrous teaching, or does not encounter this, one is, in either case, unable to give rise to the mind of unsurpassed, complete awakening — know that this, too, does not seem correct. Why is this? Because a person of this kind must, in the end, attain unsurpassed, complete awakening all the same. The icchantika, on account of buddha-nature, whether he hears the teaching or not, must likewise, in the end, attain unsurpassed, complete awakening. World-Honored One, as the Buddha has taught, what, exactly, is meant by 'icchantika'? It is said to mean one who has severed his own wholesome roots. This, too, does not seem correct. Why is this? Because buddha-nature itself is never severed. Since buddha-nature is, by its very principle, incapable of being severed, how, then, can the Buddha say that every wholesome root is severed?… World-Honored One, should the mind of unsurpassed, complete awakening arise on account of buddha-nature, why, then, does the Tathāgata expound the twelve divisions of scripture so extensively for the sake of beings? World-Honored One, it is like the four great rivers that flow forth from Lake Anavatapta — should any god, any human, any buddha, any world-honored one say that these rivers do not flow into the great ocean, but instead return to their own source, this could not possibly be so. The bodhi-mind is exactly the same: whoever possesses buddha-nature, whether he hears the teaching or not, whether he keeps the precepts or not, whether he gives or not, whether he cultivates or not, whether he is wise or not, must, in every case, attain unsurpassed, complete awakening. World-Honored One, it is like Mount Udayagiri, from which the sun rises and travels to due south — should the sun think to itself, 'I shall not reach the west, but shall return instead to the east,' this could not possibly be so. Buddha-nature is exactly the same: should it be that one who does not hear the teaching, does not keep the precepts, does not give, does not cultivate, and is not wise, fails to attain unsurpassed, complete awakening, this, too, could not possibly be so. World-Honored One, every buddha, every tathāgata, teaches that the nature of cause and effect is neither existent nor non-existent — this, too, does not seem correct. Why is this? Just as, should there be no nature of curds within milk, there could be no curds at all; and just as, should a banyan seed possess no nature capable of a tree eighty feet tall, it could never produce a form eighty feet tall — should there be no tree of unsurpassed, complete awakening within buddha-nature itself, how, then, could it ever produce this very tree of unsurpassed, complete awakening? It is for this very reason that this teaching of cause and effect being neither existent nor non-existent does not seem to hold together at all — how, then, could this very teaching possibly be correct?"

At that time, the World-Honored One praised him: "Excellent, excellent, good son! There are, in this world, two kinds of people who are exceedingly rare, like the udumbara flower: one who commits no evil act at all, and one who, having committed a crime, is able to repent it — people of these two kinds are exceedingly rare… Good son, it is through a good question of exactly this kind that the unsurpassed Dharma-wheel is turned, the great tree of the twelve links of dependent origination is withered, the boundless great river of birth-and-death is crossed, war is waged against the demon king Māra himself, and the victory banner Māra has raised is thrown down. Good son, as I said before, that the three kinds of patients, whether they encounter a good physician, fine medicine, and an attendant or not, are, in every case, cured of their illness — what is the meaning of this? As for those who are cured whether they obtain these or not, this describes a fixed lifespan. Why is this? Such a person has, throughout immeasurable past lives, cultivated three kinds of wholesome deed — upper, middling, and lower — and, through cultivating these three kinds of wholesome deed, has thereby attained a fixed lifespan, just as the people of Uttarakuru live for a full thousand years — should such a person fall ill, whether he obtains a good physician, fine medicine, and an attendant or not, he is, in every case, cured. Why is this? Because he has attained a fixed lifespan. Good son, as I said, that a patient who encounters a good physician, fine medicine, and an attendant is thereby cured, and, failing to encounter these, is not cured — what is the meaning of this? Good son, a person of this kind has an unfixed lifespan. Though his own allotted life is not yet exhausted, there are nine causes and conditions able to cut it short prematurely… It is on account of causes such as these that I say a patient who encounters medicine can be cured, and, failing to encounter it, cannot be healed at all. Good son, as I said before, that some, whether they encounter these or not, cannot be cured in either case — what is the meaning of this? There are those whose own allotted life is already exhausted, and who, whether they encounter these or not, cannot be cured in either case. Why is this? Because their life is already exhausted. It is for this very reason that I say a patient of this kind, whether he encounters medicine or not, cannot be cured in either case. Beings are exactly the same: one who gives rise to the bodhi-mind, whether he encounters a good friend, a buddha, or a bodhisattva, and consults and receives the profound teaching, or fails to encounter this, shall, in every case, come to accomplish it. Why is this? Because he is able to give rise to the bodhi-mind, just as the people of Uttarakuru have attained a fixed lifespan."

"As I said before, that whether one encounters a good friend, a buddha, or a bodhisattva, and hears the profound teaching, or fails to encounter it, one is, in either case, unable to give rise to this mind — what is the meaning of this? Good son, the icchantika, whether he encounters a good friend, a buddha, or a bodhisattva, and hears the profound teaching, or fails to encounter it, is, in either case, unable to leave behind his own icchantika-mind. Why is this? Because his wholesome dharmas are severed. And yet the icchantika, too, shall attain unsurpassed, complete awakening. Why is this? Because, should he be able to give rise to the bodhi-mind, he is no longer, on that very account, named an icchantika at all… Good son, 'icchan' means faith, and 'tika' means incomplete — being incomplete in faith, he is named an icchantika. Buddha-nature is not faith, and beings are not the completion of it — and, this incompleteness pertaining only to faith, how, then, could buddha-nature itself be severed? 'Icchan' means skillful means, and 'tika' means incomplete — being incomplete in cultivating skillful means, he is named an icchantika. Buddha-nature is not the cultivation of skillful means, and beings are not its completion — how, then, could it be severed? 'Icchan' means diligence, and 'tika' means incomplete — being incomplete in diligence, he is named an icchantika. Buddha-nature is not diligence, and beings are not its completion — how, then, could it be severed? 'Icchan' means mindfulness, and 'tika' means incomplete — being incomplete in mindfulness, he is named an icchantika. Buddha-nature is not mindfulness, and beings are not its completion — how, then, could it be severed? 'Icchan' means concentration, and 'tika' means incomplete — being incomplete in concentration, he is named an icchantika. Buddha-nature is not concentration, and beings are not its completion — how, then, could it be severed? 'Icchan' means wisdom, and 'tika' means incomplete — being incomplete in wisdom, he is named an icchantika. Buddha-nature is not wisdom, and beings are not its completion — how, then, could it be severed? 'Icchan' means impermanent goodness, and 'tika' means incomplete — being incomplete in impermanent goodness, he is named an icchantika. Buddha-nature is permanent, neither wholesome nor unwholesome. Why is this? Because a wholesome dharma must be attained through skillful means, and buddha-nature is not attained through skillful means — it is for this reason that it is not wholesome. And why, further, is it named 'not unwholesome'? Because it is able to yield a wholesome fruit, and this wholesome fruit is itself unsurpassed, complete awakening. And, further, a wholesome dharma is one attained only after having first arisen, while buddha-nature is not attained only after having first arisen — it is for this reason, too, that it is not wholesome. It is on account of severing every wholesome dharma that is attained only after having first arisen that one is named an icchantika."

"Good son, as you have said, should the icchantika truly possess buddha-nature, why, then, does this not prevent the crime that leads to hell? Good son, the icchantika himself, in this very sense, does not possess buddha-nature at all. Good son, it is like a king who, hearing the sound of a lute, its tone pure and subtle, becomes at once enthralled, filled with joy and longing, unable to part from it, and says to his minister: 'From where does this wondrous sound come?' The minister answers: 'This wondrous sound comes from the lute.' The king says further: 'Bring me this very sound.' The minister then brings the lute and places it before the king, saying: 'Great king, know that this itself is the sound.' The king says to the lute: 'Make your sound! Make your sound!' And yet the lute produces no sound at all. The king then cuts its strings, and still no sound comes forth; he takes apart its skin and its wood, splitting them entirely, seeking the sound throughout, and yet is never, in the end, able to find it anywhere. The king then grows angry at his minister: 'Why have you told me such a lie?' The minister says to the king: 'Obtaining this very sound does not work in the way you suppose — it is only through a combination of many conditions, and skillful means, that the sound comes forth at all.' A being's own buddha-nature is exactly the same: it has no fixed dwelling place at all, and it is only through skillful means that it comes to be seen — and it is through this very seeing that unsurpassed, complete awakening is attained. The icchantika does not see buddha-nature — how, then, could it prevent the crime that leads to the three evil destinies? Good son, should the icchantika believe that he possesses buddha-nature, know that this very person would not fall to the three evil destinies at all — and, on that very account, he would no longer be named an icchantika. It is precisely because he does not himself believe he possesses buddha-nature that he falls into the three evil destinies — and it is because he falls into the three evil destinies that he is named an icchantika."

"Good son, as you yourself have said, should there be no nature of curds within milk, curds could never come from it at all; and should a banyan seed lack a nature capable of an eighty-foot form, it could never possess a form eighty feet tall. It is only a foolish person who would say such a thing — a person of wisdom would never, in the end, utter words such as these. Why is this? Because there is, in fact, no such fixed nature there at all. Good son, should milk truly already possess the nature of curds within it, it should never need to depend further on the power of many conditions at all. Good son, it is like water mixed with milk, which, left standing for an entire month, never turns into curds at all — and yet, should a single drop of the sap of the phalgu tree be added to it, it turns into curds at once. Were curds already originally present, why would it need to wait upon any condition at all? A being's own buddha-nature is exactly the same: it is only by depending upon many conditions that it comes to be seen at all, and it is only by depending upon many conditions that unsurpassed, complete awakening is accomplished. Should it be accomplished only after depending upon many conditions, this is itself the very meaning of having no fixed nature — and it is precisely because it has no fixed nature that unsurpassed, complete awakening can be attained at all. Good son, it is for this very reason that the bodhisattva-mahāsattva forever praises what is wholesome in another, and never broadcasts his own shortcoming — this is what is named the upright mind."

"Furthermore, good son, what is meant by the bodhisattva's own upright mind? The bodhisattva-mahāsattva forever commits no evil, and, should any fault arise, confesses it at once, never concealing it from his own teacher or fellow students, feeling shame and remorse, reproaching himself, and never daring to commit it again, holding even the lightest transgression to be exceedingly grave. Should anyone question him about it, he answers that he has indeed transgressed. Should he be asked further whether this transgression is good or not good, he answers that it is not good. Should he be asked further whether this transgression is wholesome or unwholesome, he answers that it is unwholesome. Should he be asked further whether this transgression yields a wholesome fruit or not, he answers that this transgression, in truth, yields no wholesome fruit at all. And should he be asked, further, who committed this transgression — surely not the Buddha, the Dharma, or the Saṅgha? — he answers that it was not the Buddha, the Dharma, or the Saṅgha, but he himself who committed it, arising entirely from the accumulation of his own affliction. Through this very uprightness of mind, he has faith that he possesses buddha-nature, and, through this very faith in buddha-nature, he can no longer be named an icchantika at all. It is through this very uprightness of mind that he is named a disciple of the Buddha — and, should he then receive clothing, food, bedding, and medicine from beings, even a thousand or ten thousand kinds of each, this would still not be too much for him to accept. This is what is meant by the bodhisattva's own upright mind. What is meant by the bodhisattva cultivating and perfecting moral discipline? The bodhisattva-mahāsattva upholds the restraining precepts neither for the sake of being reborn in heaven nor out of fear — he does not even uphold the precept of a dog, a rooster, an ox, or a pheasant; he does not commit a breach of the precepts, a deficiency in them, a flaw in them, or a mixture of them, nor does he uphold merely the precepts of the śrāvaka, but upholds instead the precepts of the bodhisattva-mahāsattva, the perfection of moral discipline itself, attaining the precepts in their fullest completion, giving rise to no arrogance at all — this is what is meant by the bodhisattva who cultivates this great nirvāṇa accomplishing the third of these matters, moral discipline."

"What is meant by the bodhisattva drawing near to a good friend? The bodhisattva-mahāsattva forever teaches beings of the wholesome path, and does not teach the evil path, nor speak of the evil path as bearing anything but an unwholesome fruit. Good son, I myself am the true good and wise friend of every being — it is for this very reason that I am able to sever every wrong view held by the brahmin Pudgala. Good son, should any being draw near to me, though he may possess a cause and condition leading to rebirth in hell, he thereupon attains rebirth in heaven instead. It was just so with Sunakṣatra and others, who should have fallen into hell, but who, through seeing me, thereupon came to sever the very cause and condition leading to hell, and were reborn instead among the gods of the form realm. And yet, even such disciples as Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana cannot be named a being's own true good and wise friend. Why is this? Because they may, in certain cases, give rise to the very cause and condition of an icchantika-mind in another. Good son, when I once dwelt in the kingdom of Vārāṇasī, Śāriputra taught two of his own disciples — one to contemplate a skeleton, and one to count the breath. Throughout many years, neither of them attained concentration, and, on account of this, wrong view arose in them, saying: 'There is no such thing as nirvāṇa, no dharma free of outflow at all — and, were there such a thing, I myself should have attained it, since I am able to uphold well the precepts I have received.' At that time, I, seeing that these monks had given rise to this very wrong mind, summoned Śāriputra and rebuked him: 'You have not taught well — why have you taught these two disciples in such an upside-down way? These two disciples of yours differ entirely in their own nature — one is a launderer by trade, and the other a goldsmith. The goldsmith's son should be taught to count the breath, and the launderer should be taught to contemplate the skeleton. Through your own mistaken teaching, you have caused these two men to give rise to evil wrong views.' I then, at that time, taught the Dharma for these two men exactly as was fitting for each, and, hearing it, both attained the fruit of arhatship. It is for this very reason that I am the true good and wise friend of every being, and not Śāriputra or Maudgalyāyana."

"Good son, should any being carry an exceedingly grave fetter, and come to encounter me, I employ skillful means and sever it for him at once. My own brother Nanda, for instance, harbored exceedingly grave desire, and I, through every kind of skillful means, removed and severed it for him. Aṅgulimāla harbored grave anger, and, through seeing me, his anger was at once put to rest. King Ajātaśatru harbored grave delusion, and, through seeing me, his deluded mind was at once extinguished. The elder Vākkali, who had cultivated and accumulated exceedingly grave affliction throughout immeasurable kalpas, had it severed and extinguished at once through seeing me. Should even a wicked, base, and lowly person draw near to me and become my own disciple, he would, on that very account, come to be revered and cherished by every human and god alike. Śrīgupta's own wrong view blazed fiercely, and, through seeing me, this wrong view was extinguished at once. Through seeing me, one severs the cause leading to hell, and creates instead the condition for rebirth in heaven — as with the caṇḍāla Vāyusa. At the very point of death, through seeing me, one's own life is restored — as with Kauśika. A mind deranged and confused, through seeing me, is restored to its own original state — as with the emaciated Gautamī. A butcher's own son, forever engaged in evil karma, through seeing me, casts it off at once — as with the icchantika-monk. Through seeing me, one would rather cast off body and life itself than transgress the restraining precepts — as with the grass-bound monk. It is for this very reason that, though the monk Ānanda speaks of half of the holy conduct as constituting a good and wise friend, I say this is not so — it is the complete fullness of holy conduct alone that is truly named a good and wise friend. This is what is meant by the bodhisattva who cultivates this great nirvāṇa accomplishing the fourth of these matters, drawing near to a good and wise friend."

"What is meant by the bodhisattva fully complete in vast learning? The bodhisattva-mahāsattva, for the sake of this great nirvāṇa, copies out, recites, and distinguishes and expounds the twelve divisions of scripture — this is what is meant by the bodhisattva fully complete in vast learning. Setting aside eleven of these divisions, and upholding, reciting, copying out, and expounding only the Vaipulya division alone, is likewise named the bodhisattva fully complete in vast learning. Setting aside all twelve divisions of scripture, should he be able to uphold this great Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra alone, copying it out, reciting it, and distinguishing and expounding it, this, too, is named the bodhisattva fully complete in vast learning. Setting aside this scripture in its full entirety, should he be able to uphold a single four-line verse of it — and, setting aside even this verse, should he be able to uphold simply that the Tathāgata is ever-abiding, his own nature never changing — this, too, is named the bodhisattva fully complete in vast learning. And, setting aside even this matter, should he know simply that the Tathāgata never, in fact, speaks any dharma at all, this, too, is named the bodhisattva fully complete in vast learning. Why is this? Because no dharma possesses any fixed nature of its own at all. Though the Tathāgata expounds every dharma, he forever, in reality, expounds nothing at all. This is what is meant by the bodhisattva who cultivates this great nirvāṇa accomplishing the fifth of these matters, being fully complete in vast learning."

"Good son, should any good son or good daughter, for the sake of this great nirvāṇa, fully accomplish these five matters, he is able to do what is difficult to do, to endure what is difficult to endure, and to give what is difficult to give. What is meant by the bodhisattva doing what is difficult to do? Should he hear that a certain person, by eating but a single sesame seed each day, attained unsurpassed, complete awakening, and, believing these very words, himself eats but a single sesame seed each day for immeasurable, incalculable kalpas; or should he hear that entering fire leads to unsurpassed, complete awakening, and, for immeasurable kalpas, enters the blazing mass of fire within the Avīci hell itself — this is what is meant by the bodhisattva doing what is difficult to do. What is meant by the bodhisattva enduring what is difficult to endure? Should he hear that undergoing suffering — being struck by staff, blade, or stone — leads to this great nirvāṇa, and, throughout immeasurable, incalculable kalpas, undergoes this in his own body fully, without counting it as suffering at all — this is what is meant by the bodhisattva enduring what is difficult to endure. What is meant by the bodhisattva giving what is difficult to give? Should he hear that giving away his own kingdom, city, wife, children, head, eyes, marrow, and brain to another leads to unsurpassed, complete awakening, and, throughout immeasurable, incalculable kalpas, gives away whatever kingdom, city, wife, children, head, eyes, marrow, and brain he possesses to others — this is what is meant by the bodhisattva giving what is difficult to give. Though the bodhisattva does what is difficult to do in this way, he never, in the end, thinks, 'This is something I have done' — and it is exactly the same with giving what is difficult to give. Good son, it is like parents who have but a single child, whom they love with the utmost depth, providing him fine clothing and the most exquisite delicacies, nurturing him according to the season, so that he lacks nothing at all. Should this child, before these very parents, give rise to a mind of contempt, and revile and insult them with harsh words, the parents, out of their own love, give rise to no anger or resentment at all, nor do they even think, 'I have given this child clothing and food.' The bodhisattva-mahāsattva is exactly the same: he regards every being as though they were his own only child, and, should this child fall ill, the parents, too, fall ill along with him, diligently seeking medicine and treating him, and, once the illness is cured, never, in the end, think, 'I have treated and cured this child's own illness.' The bodhisattva is exactly the same: seeing beings afflicted by the illness of their own affliction, he gives rise to a mind of loving affection, and expounds the Dharma for their sake, and, through hearing this Dharma, their every affliction is severed — and, once this affliction is severed, he never, in the end, thinks, 'I have severed this affliction for the sake of beings.' Should he give rise to a thought of this kind, he would never, in the end, accomplish unsurpassed, complete awakening at all. He holds only this thought: 'There is not a single being for whom I have expounded the Dharma, causing his affliction to be severed.' The bodhisattva-mahāsattva feels neither anger nor joy toward any being at all. Why is this? Because he skillfully cultivates the concentration on emptiness. Should the bodhisattva cultivate the concentration on emptiness, toward whom, then, could he give rise to anger or joy at all? Good son, it is like a mountain forest consumed by a raging fire, or felled by an axe, or swept away by a flood — toward whom, then, could this very forest give rise to anger or joy? The bodhisattva-mahāsattva is exactly the same: he holds neither anger nor joy toward any being at all. Why is this? Because he cultivates the concentration on emptiness."

At that time, the bodhisattva-mahāsattva Bright Virtuous King of Universal Illumination said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, is every dharma empty by its own inherent nature — empty because emptiness is itself empty? Should it be empty by its own inherent nature, one should not need to cultivate emptiness first and only then come to see this emptiness — how, then, can the Tathāgata say that it is through cultivating emptiness that one comes to see emptiness? And should its nature not, in fact, be empty at all, then, however much one cultivates emptiness, it could never be made empty at all." "Good son, every dharma's own nature is, from the very beginning, empty. Why is this? Because the nature of every dharma can never actually be grasped at all. Good son, the nature of form can never be grasped. What is the nature of form? The nature of form is neither earth, water, fire, nor wind, and yet is not apart from earth, water, fire, and wind; it is neither blue, yellow, red, nor white, and yet is not apart from blue, yellow, red, and white; it is neither existent nor non-existent — how, then, could it be said that form possesses any fixed nature of its own at all? Because its own nature can never be grasped, it is said to be empty. Every dharma is exactly the same — and yet, on account of their own seemingly similar continuity, ordinary beings, seeing them, say that the nature of every dharma is not, in fact, empty and still at all. The bodhisattva-mahāsattva, fully accomplished in these five matters, therefore sees that the very nature of every dharma is, from the beginning, empty and still."

Bright Virtuous King of Universal Illumination said further: "World-Honored One, should the concentration on emptiness cause salt to become sweet, know that this concentration is neither good nor subtle, its very nature inverted. And should the concentration on emptiness reveal only emptiness itself, this emptiness would then be nothing at all — so what, exactly, is there for it to reveal?" "Good son, this concentration on emptiness reveals precisely what is not itself empty, and causes it to become empty and still — and yet this is not an inversion at all. It is like how salt does not truly turn sweetness into saltiness — this concentration on emptiness is exactly the same, not truly turning what is not empty into emptiness. Good son, craving possesses a real, existent nature — it is not itself empty by nature. Were craving truly empty, beings should not fall into hell on account of it; and, since they do indeed fall into hell, how, then, could craving's own nature be said to be empty at all?… Good son, every ordinary being, seeing a woman, at once gives rise to the mark of a woman; the bodhisattva is not like this — though he sees a woman, he gives rise to no mark of a woman at all, and, because this mark does not arise, craving, too, does not arise on that account, and it is for this reason that this is no inversion at all. It is only because people of the world see the mark of a woman there that the bodhisattva, following their own convention, speaks of there being a woman — but should he, seeing a man, speak of him as a woman, this would indeed be an inversion… Good son, every bodhisattva who abides at the ninth ground still sees a fixed nature in dharmas, and, because of this very seeing, does not yet see buddha-nature — but should he see buddha-nature, he no longer sees the nature of any dharma at all. It is through cultivating this very concentration on emptiness that he no longer sees the nature of dharmas, and it is because he no longer sees it that he thereby sees buddha-nature instead. Every buddha and bodhisattva teaches in two ways: one, that a nature exists, and, two, that no nature exists — for the sake of beings, they teach that the nature of dharmas exists; for the sake of every sage and noble one, they teach that no such nature exists at all."

"Good son, as you have said — should emptiness be seen, and emptiness be nothing at all, then what, exactly, is there to see? Good son, just so, just so — the bodhisattva-mahāsattva, in reality, sees nothing at all. What is seen as nothing is itself the very absence of anything, and this very absence of anything is itself every dharma. The bodhisattva-mahāsattva, cultivating this great nirvāṇa, sees nothing at all with regard to any dharma. Should there be one who sees something, he does not see buddha-nature, is unable to cultivate the perfection of wisdom, and cannot enter this great nirvāṇa — it is for this very reason that the bodhisattva sees the very nature of every dharma as possessing nothing at all. Good son, the bodhisattva does not see emptiness only through the concentration on it — the perfection of wisdom, too, is empty; the perfection of meditative absorption, too, is empty; the perfection of diligence, too, is empty; the perfection of patience, too, is empty; the perfection of moral discipline, too, is empty; the perfection of giving, too, is empty; form, too, is empty; the eye, too, is empty; consciousness, too, is empty; the Tathāgata, too, is empty; and this great nirvāṇa, too, is empty — it is for this very reason that the bodhisattva sees that every single dharma, without exception, is empty. It was for this very reason that I, at the city of Kapilavastu, said to Ānanda: 'Do not give yourself over to sorrow, grief, and weeping.' Ānanda said at once: 'Tathāgata, World-Honored One! My own kin have all now perished — how could I possibly avoid sorrow and weeping? The Tathāgata was born together with me in this very city, of the very same Śākya clan, our own kin and relatives alike — why, then, does the Tathāgata alone feel no sorrow at all, his own countenance shining more brightly still?' Good son, I answered him further: 'Ānanda, you see Kapilavastu as genuinely, truly existing — I see it as empty and still, possessing nothing at all. You see the Śākya clan as entirely your own kin — I, cultivating emptiness, see nothing at all there. It is on account of this very difference that you give rise to sorrow and suffering, while my own body and countenance shine only more brightly still.' Every buddha and bodhisattva, through cultivating this very concentration on emptiness, gives rise to no sorrow or affliction at all — this is what is meant by the bodhisattva who cultivates this subtle and wondrous scripture of the great nirvāṇa accomplishing and fully completing the ninth merit."

"Good son, how does the bodhisattva who cultivates this subtle and wondrous scripture of the great nirvāṇa accomplish and fully complete the very last, tenth merit? Good son, the bodhisattva cultivates the thirty-seven factors of awakening, enters this great nirvāṇa's own permanence, bliss, self, and purity, and expounds this great Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra distinctly for the sake of beings, revealing buddha-nature to them. Should the stream-enterer, the once-returner, the non-returner, the arhat, the pratyekabuddha, or the bodhisattva believe these words, they shall, in every case, come to enter this great nirvāṇa; and should they not believe them, they turn endlessly through birth-and-death instead." At that time, Bright Virtuous King of Universal Illumination said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, what kind of beings hold no reverence at all for this sūtra?" "Good son, after my own parinirvāṇa, there shall be śrāvaka disciples, foolish and precept-breaking, delighting in contention, who cast aside the twelve divisions of scripture and instead read and recite every kind of treatise, verse, and writing belonging to other paths, accepting and keeping every kind of impure object, and claiming that the Buddha has permitted it. People of this kind trade fine sandalwood for common wood, gold for brass, silver for pewter, silk for coarse wool, and the flavor of ambrosia for deadly poison. What is meant by trading sandalwood for common wood? It is like my own disciples who, for the sake of receiving offerings, expound the teaching of the scriptures for lay believers — the lay believers, indolent by disposition, take no pleasure in listening, and, seated in a place of honor while the monk sits below them, are provided with every kind of fine food and drink besides, and yet still refuse to listen — this is what is meant by trading sandalwood for common wood. What is meant by trading gold for brass? Brass is a likeness for form, sound, fragrance, flavor, and touch, and gold is a likeness for moral discipline. My own disciples, on account of form, break the very precepts they have received — this is what is meant by trading gold for brass. What is meant by trading silver for pewter? Silver is a likeness for the ten wholesome deeds, and pewter is a likeness for the ten evil deeds. My own disciples cast aside the ten wholesome deeds and practice instead the ten evil deeds — this is what is meant by trading silver for pewter. What is meant by trading silk for coarse wool? Coarse wool is a likeness for shamelessness and lack of remorse, and silk is a likeness for shame and remorse. My own disciples cast aside shame and remorse and cultivate instead shamelessness — this is what is meant by trading silk for coarse wool. What is meant by trading ambrosia for poison? Poison is a likeness for every kind of personal gain, and ambrosia is a likeness for every dharma free of outflow. My own disciples, for the sake of personal gain, proclaim to lay believers, praising themselves, that they have attained freedom from outflow — this is what is meant by trading ambrosia for poison."

"On account of evil monks of exactly this kind, this subtle and wondrous scripture of the great nirvāṇa shall nonetheless spread widely throughout Jambudvīpa. At that very time, there shall be disciples who uphold, recite, copy out, and broadly expound and spread this very sūtra, and they shall be killed by these evil monks on that very account. These evil monks, gathering together, shall establish a strict decree: 'Should anyone uphold, copy out, recite, or distinctly expound this Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra, no one at all is to dwell together, sit together, or converse with him. Why is this? Because this Nirvāṇa Sūtra was never taught by the Buddha at all, but fabricated by wrong view, and those of wrong view are none other than the six teachers themselves — the scriptures of the six teachers are not the Buddha's own scriptures. Why is this? Every buddha teaches that every dharma is impermanent, without self, without bliss, and without purity — should it be taught, instead, that every dharma possesses permanence, bliss, self, and purity, how, then, could this possibly be a scripture the Buddha himself taught? Every buddha and bodhisattva permits monks to keep various possessions, while the six teachers do not permit their own disciples to keep anything at all — how, then, could a teaching of this kind possibly be what the Buddha himself taught? Every buddha and bodhisattva does not forbid disciples the five products of the cow, nor the eating of meat, while the six teachers do not permit the eating of the five kinds of salt, the five products of the cow, fat, or blood — should this sūtra forbid these very things, how, then, could it possibly be the Buddha's own true scripture? Every buddha and bodhisattva teaches the three vehicles, while this very sūtra teaches only the one vehicle alone, namely, this great nirvāṇa — how, then, could words of this kind possibly be the Buddha's own true scripture? Every buddha, in the end, enters nirvāṇa, while this very sūtra says that the Buddha possesses permanence, bliss, self, and purity, and does not enter nirvāṇa at all, and this sūtra is not counted among the twelve divisions of scripture at all — it is, in fact, Māra's own teaching, not the Buddha's own teaching.' Good son, people of this kind, though they are my own disciples, are unable to believe and follow this very Nirvāṇa Sūtra. Good son, at that very time, should any being believe even so much as half a verse of this sūtra, know that this very person is truly my own disciple — through this very faith, he thereby sees buddha-nature, and enters nirvāṇa." At that time, Bright Virtuous King of Universal Illumination said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, excellent, excellent! The Tathāgata has, this very day, skillfully revealed this Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra. World-Honored One, through this very teaching, I have come to awaken to and understand a single verse, even half a verse, of this Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra — and, through understanding this single verse, this half verse, I have seen a portion of buddha-nature. As the Buddha has taught, I, too, shall come to enter this great nirvāṇa." "This is what is meant by the bodhisattva who cultivates this subtle and wondrous scripture of the great nirvāṇa accomplishing and fully completing the tenth merit."