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Attachment to Deep Emptiness Leads to Demonic Possession

What does this deep emptiness mean? Within his mind, he has grown utterly disgusted with every appearance of attainment. He longs to plunge into the realm of tranquil extinction, to merge completely with conditionless causes and conditio...

What does this deep emptiness mean? Within his mind, he has grown utterly disgusted with every appearance of attainment. He longs to plunge into the realm of tranquil extinction, to merge completely with conditionless causes and conditions. Once we look at the passage from the sutra, the meaning of "greed for deep emptiness" becomes easy to grasp.

Arising of Love and Seeking in Samadhi

Furthermore, good man, when the skandhas of form and feeling have been thoroughly overcome and no false thoughts intrude, the consummate samadhi shines forth brilliantly—and yet within that samadhi his mind comes to love entering extinction. He investigates the nature of transformation and greedily seeks deep emptiness.

This person is no ordinary individual. He has completely broken through the skandhas of form and feeling and has realized the wondrous samadhi of perfect penetration—he has a genuine foundation in cultivation. Yet within his utterly still mind, a sudden delusive thought arises: the mind loves entering extinction. He finds the appearance of arising and ceasing deeply repugnant and craves instead this state of quiet cessation, this unconditioned realm. Not content with this delusion, he goes further, investigating the nature of transformation. He keeps examining the very essence of change in all things: where does it originate? Why do our bodies undergo birth, aging, sickness, and death? Why do our minds undergo arising, abiding, changing, and ceasing? Where do these appearances of transformation come from? The end result of all this seeking is that he greedily pursues deep emptiness, hoping to make his body, his mind, his whole world swiftly enter a state of quiet, empty extinction.

Of course, true suchness is already fully present. If you simply cultivate diligently, it will reveal itself naturally. When no thought arises, the whole is manifest. But the trouble is that the moment you greedily grasp at it, everything collapses. A single thought stirs, dark clouds cover the sky, and you fall into sympathetic resonance with the demon king.

The next two passages make this clear.

The Demon Takes Advantage and Possesses

At that moment, the demon king, watching for his opportunity, sent his spirit to possess a person, who then spoke the Dharma from his mouth.

The Master Becomes Bewildered

The practitioner never realized he was possessed by a demon. He claimed he had attained supreme nirvana, and he went to sit before the good man who was seeking emptiness, set up a seat, and expounded the Dharma.

So while this practitioner of śamatha and vipaśyanā sat in a moment of stillness, with greed for deep emptiness welling up within, the demon king saw his chance. He dispatched his sprites and specters to possess a person who would speak the Dharma, in order to lure the cultivator. What method did he use? The next passage makes it plain.

Displaying Deceptive Phenomena

In the midst of the assembly, his form suddenly vanished into empty space, becoming invisible to everyone. Then from empty space he suddenly reappeared, coming and going freely. Sometimes his body appeared transparent as crystal; sometimes his hands and feet emitted the fragrance of sandalwood; sometimes his excrement smelled as sweet as thick rock candy. He slandered the precepts and looked down on the monastic life.

This practitioner's fundamental delusion is his greed for deep emptiness—he longs to chase after this conditionless realm of quiet cessation. The demon king therefore goes along with his inclinations and dispatches this speaker of Dharma. In the middle of a great Dharma assembly, while he is teaching, he suddenly vanishes into empty space. No one in the assembly can see him. Just moments ago he had been sitting there expounding the Dharma; now he has completely disappeared. Not long after, his physical body suddenly reappears out of empty space. His body can come and go at will—appearing when it wishes, vanishing when it wishes. What does this demonstrate? That this person has grasped the principle that true emptiness is wondrous existence, wondrous existence is true emptiness, and has touched the non-duality of emptiness and existence. That is the implication.

Sometimes his body appeared transparent as crystal. Our physical body is normally opaque and obstructive, isn't it? Even a single layer of belly skin prevents us from seeing our own internal organs. Yet this Dharma speaker, while expounding, suddenly allowed everyone to see the structure of his body, as though looking through clear crystal. This too reflects the principle of unobstructed emptiness and existence.

Sometimes his hands and feet emitted the fragrance of sandalwood. Hands and feet are part of what we call this stinking hide-bag. How could they suddenly produce the fragrance of sandalwood? He had not burned any sandalwood incense, yet his body naturally released its scent. Sometimes his excrement smelled as sweet as thick rock candy. Excrement is foul and filthy, yet if you tasted it, it would be as sweet as rock candy. This is the non-duality of defilement and purity—within the appearance of defilement, the virtuous marks of purity appear.

He slandered the precepts and looked down on the monastic life. He proclaimed that keeping precepts is a Hīnayāna teaching, and that the monastic life is also a Hīnayāna path. These are the extraordinary phenomena of the non-duality of emptiness and existence, and the non-duality of defilement and purity, that he displayed.

Now let us look at the Dharma he taught:

Speaking Delusive Words

He constantly declared that there is no cause and no effect, that death is permanent extinction with no future body, and that there is no distinction between ordinary beings and sages. Although he spoke of emptiness and stillness, he secretly indulged his desires. Those who submitted to his lust also gained an "empty mind" and used it to deny cause and effect.

He constantly declared that in the world there is no such thing as cause and effect. Performing good deeds, he said, brings no happy result; performing evil brings no suffering. Life in this world is mere chance. Why does a person suffer? Because of bad luck. Why is a person happy? Also without cause or condition. There is no cause, and no effect. And so for a person, death is permanent extinction, with no future body, and no distinction between ordinary beings and sages. Human life exists only once. When a person dies, it is like a candle that has burned up—once it goes out, life never appears again. So what does this lead to? Without belief in a future life, a person is driven to seize pleasure in the moment—this is the nihilistic emptiness of annihilation. Since there is no future life, the work of cutting off evil and cultivating good, the effort of study and practice, becomes meaningless. With no future life, there is no distinction between ordinary beings and sages, and the nihilistic view of annihilation takes hold.

Although he spoke of emptiness and stillness, he secretly indulged his desires. His mouth proclaimed that all dharmas are empty, yet he indulged his own appetites and engaged in sexual misconduct. Why? Because the "emptiness" he taught empties external causes and conditions, empties external cause and effect. With cause and effect emptied, committing evil brings no retributive suffering, and so he begins to act with abandon.

Those who submitted to his lust also gained an "empty mind." After disciples engaged in sexual acts with him, their minds naturally took on the view of nihilistic emptiness. They took sexual indulgence as a child of the Dharma, used the emptiness of annihilation to establish their doctrine of denying cause and effect. Of course, all of these teachings were tailored to the earlier cultivator's inclinations, since he delighted in the realm of quiet cessation and unconditioned emptiness. The demon accommodated his wishes, teaching a counterfeit Dharma to entice him into transgression.

Let us continue:

Identifying the Name and Showing the Harm

This being is the essence of sun and moon during an eclipse—the vital energy of gold and jade, of lingzhi and herbs, of the qilin, phoenix, tortoise, and crane, which through myriads of years without death becomes a spirit, is born into the world, and in old age becomes a demon, to afflict and disturb this person. When the demon's appetite is satisfied, he departs from that body. Disciples and teacher alike often fall into the king's punishment.

Teaching to Awaken and Warning Against Delusion

You should first awaken and not enter the cycle of rebirth. Bewildered and unaware, you will fall into the unintermittent hell.

What kind of demon is this? The Buddha identifies it by name: it is the essence of sun and moon during an eclipse. Both sun and moon possess vital essence—the sun is called the yang essence, the moon the yin essence. This essence can be wicked or righteous: the wicked is black vapor, the righteous is white. When this essence is wicked, it produces what are called thinning and eclipse. What is thinning? It is when the wicked essence presses against the sun and moon, partially obscuring them—that is called thinning.

If the power of the black vapor grows stronger, it completely covers the sun and moon so that nothing can be seen of them—that is called eclipse. The light of sun and moon normally shines upon all things equally and universally, but when they undergo thinning or eclipse, their energy becomes concentrated, plunging directly from the heavens to the earth. Suppose it strikes gold or jade—precious metals and stones—or lingzhi and other herbs, or various creatures such as the qilin, phoenix, tortoise, or white crane. These creatures can then live for myriads of years without dying, attaining long life and becoming spirit-immortals. In the case of minerals, gold and jade become "object-immortals"; in the case of animals, they become "beast-immortals." Born into the world, they can live for myriads of years without dying, because they have directly absorbed the concentrated essence of the sun and moon. Such sprites and specters, in old age, become demons who afflict and disturb this person. Finally, when the demon's appetite is satisfied, he departs from that body, and disciples and teacher alike often fall into the king's punishment. If we cannot turn the light inward and reflect upon ourselves, we create evil and fall into the unintermittent hell.

One point in this section is worth noting: when the demon king emerges, he must speak Dharma. What he teaches is a counterfeit Dharma, but counterfeit Dharmas at the outset can be very hard to discern. For example, the demon might say, "I was your teacher in a past life. I once guided you to liberation, and now I will continue to guide you. Follow me and study." This kind of claim is very hard to judge—true or false, it is extremely difficult to determine. But in this passage, the counterfeit is the denial of cause and effect. Any Buddhist disciple with even a basic foundation holds to the belief in a future life. Surely you only undertake practice because you believe in a future life. If there were no future life, why would you practice at all? It is precisely by establishing an immeasurable view of life that you can, in this very life, give up sleep, sacrifice the time you might have spent in ease and pleasure, and willingly devote yourself to cultivation—all for the sake of creating a beautiful future life. The view presented here is utterly outrageous—it denies cause and effect. Yet this person still believes it. You can see that the master has become utterly bewildered, his mind completely inverted, inverted to such a degree. This is truly a perverse Dharma.