Lectures on the Universal Gateway of Guanyin Bodhisattva by Master Xiandun

Author: Venerable Xian Dun

Preface

Only when all sentient beings are liberated can one awaken to bodhi; only when the hell realms are emptied does one vow to attain Buddhahood. This vow is the very embodiment of the vow-power of Avalokiteśvara and Kṣitigarbha, and the foundational reason the Buddha appears in the world to teach. It is the ultimate principle of compassion at the heart of Buddhism; all thousands of sutras and countless doctrines are fully contained within this single saying.

The Avalokiteśvara chapter of the Śūraṅgama Sūtra and the Universal Gateway chapter of the Lotus Sūtra are the final teachings of the Buddha’s Five Periods and Eight Doctrinal Categories. They are the crystallization of the Buddha’s entire lifetime of teaching, the universal path for all sentient beings to enter the Buddhist gate.

The Universal Gateway has three defining features: first, no lintel, so even those of high status and noble standing may enter; second, no doorposts, so even the wealthy and privileged may pass through; third, no threshold, so even the poor, lowly, and humble may step inside. Thus, these teachings suit practitioners of all capacities—superior, middling, and inferior alike.

Avalokiteśvara manifests in thirty-three forms, and expounds the Dharma on nineteen distinct occasions, leaving no detail unaddressed and reaching every nook and cranny. The gateway of all Buddhas’ wisdom unites provisional teachings with ultimate truth; both ordinary beings and holy ones can grasp it. Enter through this opening, and the moment you encounter any phenomenon, you directly realize mind itself: the innate landscape of your true nature shines clear, and you fully awaken to the mind-only Pure Land.

I offer these simple, everyday words as a brick to cast before jade, hoping that esteemed virtuous monks and wise scholars will smile at them kindly. This concludes the preface. Written by the humble student Xian Dun in the quiet chamber of Longyun Chan Temple, on the ninth day of the fifth lunar month in the renxu year, the 71st year of the Republic of China.

Introduction

Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva attained Buddhahood countless kalpas ago, bearing the name Right Dharma Brightness. But moved by an ardent resolve to liberate beings and a heart breaking with compassion, this Bodhisattva continues to manifest in limitless forms, extending mercy through the six realms to deliver all who suffer. Whenever people fall ill or meet with disaster, calling Avalokiteśvara's name with a sincere and reverent heart will draw a response in keeping with the depth of their devotion.

The holy name is known to everyone, without exception, throughout China, Japan, and Korea. Avalokiteśvara's compassionate light is like a bright, pure full moon suspended in the night sky, illuminating the whole earth, protecting suffering beings, and sprinkling the sweet dew of the Dharma into every corner of the world. Hence the saying: "In every household, Amitābha; in every home, Avalokiteśvara!"

The Universal Gate of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva is one of the twenty-eight chapters of the Lotus Sūtra—the twenty-fifth, to be precise. Its content wholly explains Avalokiteśvara's universal benefits, so people often recite this chapter on its own. Some in the secular world call it the "Avalokiteśvara Sūtra," but that's just the Universal Gate chapter. "Universal Gate" is the short form; the more complete title would be "The Universal Gate of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva Chapter of the Lotus Sūtra."

This Lotus Sūtra was principally expounded by our teacher, Śākyamuni Buddha. Śākyamuni was born in the Lumbini Garden in India more than 2,500 years ago. In truth, examining the scriptures, we find he'd already attained Buddhahood countless kalpas before.

So why did he appear again in India? For the sake of delivering all of us sentient beings. As the sutra says, "for the sake of one great cause." What is that one great cause? To enable beings to escape the suffering of the six realms and realize the bliss of Nirvāṇa. The sutra puts it this way: "[The Buddha appears in the world] so that sentient beings may open, reveal, awaken to, and enter the Buddha's wisdom." To open the Buddha's wisdom; to reveal the Buddha's wisdom to beings; to awaken beings to the Buddha's wisdom; and to wish that beings enter the Buddha's wisdom—this is what "open, reveal, awaken to, and enter" means. Put differently, it means helping those who haven't yet planted roots of goodness to plant them quickly, and those who have planted such roots to grow them, so they may swiftly escape worldly suffering and enter the fruit of Bodhi.

That's why the Buddha appeared again—born among humans, growing up among humans, attaining Buddhahood among humans—demonstrating he was no different from ordinary people. He too had to pass through birth, aging, sickness, and death, and to practice through countless hardships before realizing the ultimate truth of the universe.

During his lifetime, the Buddha taught for forty-nine years, expounding the sutras in more than three hundred assemblies. These teachings were later compiled into the Tripiṭaka, the sacred canon in twelve divisions. Through the Tiantai Master Zhizhe, who received the transmission at Vulture Peak and achieved his great awakening at Mount Su, the teachings were organized into the system of the Five Periods and Eight Teachings. This system classifies and explicates the entire teaching of the Thus Come One with such clarity that nothing is left unilluminated—as brilliant as the sun and moon.

The Five Periods and Eight Teachings form the great framework and order of the Buddha's teachings (the Five Periods being the chronological order, the Eight Teachings the doctrinal order). Simply put, the sequential way the Thus Come One adapted his teachings to suit beings' capacities divides into five periods in time and eight teachings in doctrine. Let's look at the Five Periods first, then the Eight Teachings.

The Five Periods refer to the order in which the Buddha, after attaining enlightenment, expounded the Dharma over forty-nine years. They are:

(1) The Avataṃsaka Period. When the World-Honored One first attained perfect enlightenment, he manifested a thousand-zhang Vairocana body (the Buddha's reward body, translated as "Pure Fullness"—afflictions purified, merit and wisdom fully complete). For bodhisattvas of great capacity, he expounded the Dharma of his own realization and discoursed on the Avataṃsaka realm, suited only to sharp-facultied bodhisattvas of the Mahāyāna. Like the sun's first rays lighting the highest peaks. This is the Avataṃsaka Period.

(2) The Āgama Period. The Avataṃsaka period benefited only those of great capacity; many with duller faculties in the Hīnayāna could not comprehend it—they were like deaf and mute. So the Buddha concealed his Vairocana body, took the form of an aged bhikṣu, and at the Deer Park expounded the Āgama Sūtras of the Hīnayāna, guiding those dull-facultied beings to turn from the lesser vehicle toward the greater, and to transcend the ordinary and enter sainthood. This is the Āgama Period.

(3) The Vaipulya Period. "Vaipulya" is the general name for all Mahāyāna sutras. "Fāng" means extensive, "děng" means equal—broadly expounding the teachings of both vehicles so all may equally benefit. "Equal" also means "equitable"—advocating the Mahāyāna principle of equality between ultimate and conventional truth. During the eight years after the Āgama period, the Buddha, to benefit all beings universally, expounded the Vimalakīrti Sūtra, the Saṃdhinirmocana Sūtra, the Golden Light Sūtra, the Siyi Sūtra, the Mahāsaṃnipāta Sūtra, and others. He praised the Mahāyāna and reproved the Hīnayāna, shaming those attached to the lesser vehicle and inspiring them to turn toward the supreme. This is the Vaipulya Period.

(4) The Prajñā Period. To eradicate attachment, the Buddha, in four locations across sixteen assemblies, expounded the Prajñāpāramitā teachings. The Hīnayāna practitioners, though reproached during the Vaipulya assemblies and though their minds now aspired to the Mahāyāna, still hadn't dissolved their emotional attachments; their views hadn't died. They didn't dare take direct responsibility and had no joy in the Pure Land. So the Thus Come One, over twenty-two years, expounded the Prajñāpāramitā Sūtras to break through the false and reveal the true, to show emptiness within form, and to lead beings into the gate of the Middle Way and Suchness. This is the Prajñā Period.

(5) The Lotus Sūtra and Nirvāṇa Period. This refers to the time when the Lotus Sūtra and the Nirvāṇa Sūtra were expounded. After the Vaipulya reproaches and Prajñā sifting, the conditions had ripened. At the assembly on Vulture Peak, the Buddha directly revealed the Buddha's wisdom. The Hīnayāna practitioners all received predictions of their future Buddhahood. The provisional teachings of the three vehicles were gathered into the single vehicle of truth—like the sun at high noon, casting no shadow. This is the Lotus Sūtra and Nirvāṇa Period.

That covers the Five Periods in brief. Now the Eight Teachings.

The eight types of teaching divide into two groups of four: the Four Teachings of the Manner of Teaching and the Four Teachings of the Substance of Teaching, totaling eight. The Four Teachings of the Manner of Teaching come first: the Sudden, the Gradual, the Secret, and the Indeterminate. These refer to the modalities the Buddha used in teaching beings—like the prescriptions of worldly medicine.

(1) The Sudden Teaching. "Sudden" means a direct leap into truth, bypassing graded stages. For those of superior faculties and great wisdom, a single hearing of the Buddha's Dharma can bring immediate awakening and Buddhahood. Hence the name. The Avataṃsaka Sūtra is an example.

(2) The Gradual Teaching. "Gradual" means practicing in stages, progressing step by step from the Hīnayāna to the Mahāyāna. This is for those of dull faculties who can't directly receive the great Dharma and must be led forward little by little. The Āgama Sūtras are an example.

(3) The Secret Teaching. "Secret" means not revealed. Since beings have different faculties, when they receive the Buddha's teaching together at one assembly, the Buddha—by the inconceivable power of the three mysteries (body, speech, and mind)—expounds the perfect sound fluently. According to each being's faculty, they each receive what benefits them. Though they hear the Dharma at the same assembly, some hear the Sudden Teaching, others hear the Gradual. Each attains a different realization, unaware of what others have understood. This is the Secret Teaching.

(4) The Indeterminate Teaching. This and the Secret Teaching are both cases of "same hearing, different understandings." The Thus Come One expounds the same teaching, but because beings have different faculties, they understand it differently. When listeners in a "same hearing, different understanding" situation are unaware of one another, it's the Secret Teaching; when they're aware, it's the Indeterminate Teaching. The two are fundamentally one—the disclosed form is the Indeterminate, the undisclosed form the Secret. There's also another dimension: when the Buddha teaches in an assembly, he adapts to each person's faculty, so each receives benefit individually. Some may awaken to the principle of the Sudden within the Gradual, or to the principle of the Gradual within the Sudden—grandly speaking, hearing the Mahāyāna yet realizing the Hīnayāna principle, or hearing the Hīnayāna principle yet realizing the Mahāyāna. Since the result isn't fixed, it's called the Indeterminate Teaching.

That concludes the brief explanation of the Four Teachings of the Manner of Teaching. Now the Four Teachings of the Substance of Teaching: the Tripiṭaka Teaching, the Common Teaching, the Distinctive Teaching, and the Perfect Teaching. These refer to the doctrinal content the World-Honored One used in teaching beings—hence "Substance of Teaching" (like the flavor of worldly medicine).

(1) The Tripiṭaka Teaching. In full, this should be called the Hīnayāna Tripiṭaka Teaching. It's exclusively for instructing the Two Vehicles (Śrāvakas and Pratyekabuddhas) and is purely Hīnayāna. It expounds for dull-facultied beings within the Three Realms, clarifying the Four Noble Truths of Production and Destruction, the Twelve Links of Dependent Origination, and the practical Six Pāramitās. It cultivates the analytical contemplation of emptiness, cuts off views and thoughts, attains the wisdom of all modes, perceives only the principle of emptiness, transcends the birth-and-death of segmented existence, and realizes the partial Nirvāṇa of truth. This is the meaning of the Tripiṭaka Teaching.

(2) The Common Teaching. "Common" means "shared." Because all three vehicles receive this teaching, it's called "Common." Those of dull faculties share it with the previous Tripiṭaka Teaching; those of sharp faculties share it with the subsequent Distinctive and Perfect Teachings—hence the name. This teaching instructs sharp-facultied beings within the Three Realms, primarily teaching bodhisattvas and secondarily the Two Vehicles. It clarifies the Four Noble Truths of Non-Production, the Twelve Links of Dependent Origination of Neither Production Nor Destruction, and the theoretical Six Pāramitās. It cultivates contemplation of the empty nature itself, fully cuts off the views and thoughts of the Three Realms, and erodes habitual tendencies. It attains the wisdom of all modes, perceives the principle of true reality, transcends the segmented birth-and-death, and realizes the Nirvāṇa of truth. This is the meaning of the Common Teaching.

(3) The Distinctive Teaching. "Distinctive" means "set apart from what comes before and after." Its doctrinal content is exclusively for bodhisattvas and doesn't apply to śrāvakas or pratyekabuddhas. It distinguishes itself from the previous Tripiṭaka and Common Teachings (showing it isn't Hīnayāna) and from the subsequent Perfect Teaching (showing it isn't the Buddha vehicle). Since it's neither the Two Vehicles nor the Buddha vehicle, it's called the Distinctive Teaching. This teaching expounds for dull-facultied bodhisattvas beyond the Three Realms, clarifying the Immeasurable Four Noble Truths, the Inconceivable Twelve Links of Dependent Origination, and the Inconceivable Six and Ten Pāramitās. It cultivates the three contemplations in sequence, cuts off the views and thoughts of the Three Realms, the two delusions of dust and sand, and the twelve grades of ignorance. It attains the wisdom of the knowledge of the path, perceives the principle of conventional truth, and partially realizes the principle of middle truth. It transcends the two kinds of birth-and-death—segmented and transformed—and realizes the Nirvāṇa of the Middle Way without abode. This is the meaning of the Distinctive Teaching.

(4) The Perfect Teaching. "Perfect" means "lacking nothing"—referring to the teaching that is fully complete and ultimately leads to Buddhahood, hence called "Perfect." This teaching expounds for the most superior sharp-facultied bodhisattvas beyond the Three Realms, clarifying the Unconditioned Four Noble Truths, the Inconceivable Twelve Links of Dependent Origination, and the Six and Ten Pāramitās in accordance with one's own nature. It teaches the Middle Way and Suchness, where phenomena and principle are perfectly harmonized. It cultivates the three contemplations in one mind, perfectly cutting off the three categories of afflictions. It attains the wisdom that knows all modes in their totality, perceives the principle of the one realm of truth, perfectly transcends the two kinds of birth-and-death, and perfectly realizes the Nirvāṇa of the three virtues. This is the meaning of the Perfect Teaching.

That concludes the brief explanation of the Five Periods and Eight Teachings. From this we can see that the Lotus Sūtra is the king of all sutras because it reveals the One Buddha Vehicle.

The sutra is divided into twenty-eight chapters. The first fourteen chapters deal with the World-Honored One's manifest traces and may be called the "Trace Gate"; the latter fourteen, expounded based on the World-Honored One's fundamental ground, are the "Origin Gate." All of these are the verbal teachings he gave during his appearance in this world.

The first chapter of the Lotus Sūtra takes Mañjuśrī Bodhisattva as the assembly's foremost. (Mañjuśrī, translated as "Wonderful Virtue," possesses inconceivable wisdom and virtue—he's the Bodhisattva of Great Wisdom.) The final chapter is headed by Samantabhadra Bodhisattva, a bodhisattva of great practice. This is the Buddha's instruction to us: in anything we do, we must first have wisdom as our guide, and then a persevering heart for what we undertake, carrying out our work step by step to achieve what we aspire to. This is the great guideline Buddhism offers beings.

The twenty-fifth chapter, the Universal Gate of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva (Avalokiteśvara, who perceives the sounds of all worlds and rescues all beings with great compassion—he's the Bodhisattva of Great Compassion), represents the Buddha's compassion. So in expounding the Universal Gate chapter, I hope everyone will give rise to the Bodhi mind, emulate the worthy, take Avalokiteśvara's heart as your own, take Avalokiteśvara's deeds as your own, and pray that in future lives each of you may become an Avalokiteśvara admired by all.

The Praise of the Willow Branch and Pure Water is usually printed at the beginning of every copy of the Universal Gate chapter, and it's especially a must-sing hymn when reciting the chapter. Taking this opportunity, I'll explain it for you. The hymn:

"Willow branches and pure water,
Sprinkled throughout the three-thousand [world-systems],
The eight virtues of the nature of emptiness benefit humans and gods;
Hungry ghosts are spared the needle-throat [suffering].
(Fortune and longevity are greatly extended.)
Offenses are extinguished, transgressions dissolved,
The flames of hell transform into red lotuses.
Homage to the Bodhisattva-Mahāsattva of the Cool Ground."

The fourth line, as commonly recited, is "Fortune and longevity are greatly extended." But the actual text should be "Hungry ghosts are spared the needle-throat suffering."

A willow branch is a branch of the willow tree. There are two kinds: the weeping willow and the water willow. What's the difference? The water willow is more of the "yáng" (poplar) variety and so is called the willow; the weeping willow, more of the "liǔ" (willow) variety, is called the weeping willow. The heart of the water willow points upward, while the branches of the weeping willow hang downward. In India, a willow branch is one of the most important gifts given to honored guests (this custom doesn't exist in Taiwan). Giving a willow branch to a guest signifies sincerity. I remember receiving the precepts on the mainland; the preceptor master taught us to take a willow branch about a foot long, place it in our mouths, chew it into pulp, and use it to brush our teeth instead of a toothbrush. The taste is somewhat bitter, and it removes the poisonous qi from the mouth. So when Indians give willow branches to guests, it's a sincere wish for their health and longevity. Why? By brushing with a willow branch, the teeth stay clean and free of decay. With strong, healthy teeth, one regulates how much one eats, digests well, falls ill less often, and stays naturally healthy.

Why, in the Praise recited to invite the Buddha, is a willow branch used to sprinkle water? There are three meanings. First, every morning upon rising, chewing a willow branch cleanses the mouth, after which one makes offerings to the Buddha and bows to the sutras, expressing reverence. Second, the water willow's heart points upward, symbolizing the bodhisattva's diligent cultivation of the path to realize the supreme Buddha-fruit; the weeping willow's leaves hang down, symbolizing that although the bodhisattva earnestly seeks the Buddha-path, they never forget to extend compassion and rescue suffering beings. Third, Avalokiteśvara, holding a willow branch, can eradicate the three calamities and eight difficulties of beings, transforming the fivefold turbid evil world into a pure land. These three points give the meaning of "willow branch."

Pure water is water that is clean and clear. "Clean" means the water isn't murky; "pure" means the water isn't rippling. Avalokiteśvara is like a bright moon suspended in the sky; their compassionate light reaches everywhere. As disciples of the Buddha, our minds must be open and bright, free of delusive thoughts and idle notions. We should treat others with sincerity, and with a reverent heart, single-mindedly bow to the Buddha. Then we'll naturally receive the response of the Buddhas and bodhisattvas. This is like a thousand streams of pure river water reflecting a thousand bright moons—as the saying goes, "When a thousand rivers have water, a thousand moons appear; when ten thousand miles have no clouds, ten thousand miles of sky are clear." If the water is turbid or rippling, the moon won't be reflected.

How vast an area must be sprinkled and cleansed with the willow branch and pure water at the place of worshipping the Buddha? It must be as vast as the three-thousand great-thousand world-systems. What does that mean? One thousand Earths like ours make a small-thousand world-system; one thousand small-thousand world-systems make a medium-thousand world-system; one thousand medium-thousand world-systems make a great-thousand world-system. A three-thousand great-thousand world-system signifies that this great-thousand world is formed by three kinds of thousands—small, medium, and great—and so it's called the three-thousand great-thousand world-system. Avalokiteśvara uses the pure willow-branch water to sprinkle these three-thousand great-thousand world-systems, rendering them pure and untainted.

At this point, I want to especially remind everyone: if you have Buddhas or bodhisattvas enshrined at home, wipe the Buddhist altar and offerings clean every day. Don't let dust accumulate and only clean them once a year. As the saying goes, "Gods dwell in purity, filthy spirits in dirt." If you wish to worship the Buddha, you must diligently tidy your hall, and likewise diligently wipe away the stains of the mind to adorn your character. The purpose of the willow branch and pure water is to cleanse the karmic obstacles accumulated by beings since countless kalpas, enabling all beings to increase their goodness, cultivate wisdom, and together realize Bodhi.

"The eight virtues of the nature of emptiness benefit humans and gods": "Nature of emptiness" refers to the originally empty nature of water. First, water does not self-generate—if water could generate itself, then pouring a cup of water tonight would make it two cups by morning. Second, water is not generated by another—water can't be generated by some other thing in its place.

Three, Water Is Not Produced Without Cause. As a rule, every phenomenon has its cause. Buddhism teaches that all things arise through conditions—without a cause, no result can come about, and water is no exception.

Four, Water Is Not Co-produced. Water cannot arise from a combination of self and other. Water and stone, for instance, can never produce water. Therefore, the nature of water is empty.

The Eight Virtues: Water possesses eight merits.

1. The Virtue of Clarity and Purity: Crystal clear and pristine, free of filth and defilement.

2. The Virtue of Coolness: Deep, refreshing, and cool, without feverish heat.

3. The Virtue of Sweetness: Water is sweet by nature, possessing a supreme flavor.

4. The Virtue of Lightness and Softness: Light and pliant, able to rise or descend.

5. The Virtue of Moisture and Nourishment: Moist and smooth, never parched or coarse.

6. The Virtue of Peace and Gentleness: Calm and gentle, without the dangers of surging floods.

7. The Virtue of Quenching Hunger and Thirst: Water's power is abundant—not merely quenching thirst, but also relieving hunger.

8. The Virtue of Nurturing the Sense Faculties: The sense faculties refer to our bodies. This water can grow and nourish our whole being, keeping it moist and healthy.

The water of eight virtues exists only in the Buddha's Pure Land. Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva uses this water of merit to nourish sentient beings, helping them let go of the three poisons—greed, hatred, and delusion—and to cultivate the threefold training of precepts, concentration, and wisdom.

The Praise of Willow Branch and Pure Water has only twenty-nine characters, yet it contains a great deal of meaning. Though it looks like a simple verse in praise of pure water, it actually includes ten kinds of offering. Let me explain them one by one.

1. Offering of Incense

Incense can open the channels, calm the spirit, and carry one into different states. On a deeper level, sandalwood incense is burned so that its fragrance may reach others, even at the cost of burning itself out. When incense is lit, the incense is consumed while the fragrance is left for others—this is the Buddhist spirit of self-giving.

Incense also stands for what Buddhism calls the "fivefold incense," namely:

(1) The Incense of Precepts. One who keeps the precepts is admired by all; a good name spreads everywhere. A person who holds to the precepts naturally develops a steady mind, and so precepts are a kind of incense.

(2) The Incense of Concentration. From keeping the precepts comes meditative absorption. Those who cultivate concentration are respected and praised by others, and so concentration too is a kind of incense.

(3) The Incense of Wisdom. Wisdom arises from concentration. As the Confucians put it, "All things, viewed in stillness, are self-satisfied." Only a calm mind can do real work and awaken wisdom. Whatever one undertakes, one should never act in haste; one must think it through calmly, using wisdom to analyze and judge. Only then can anything be brought to completion.

(4) The Incense of Liberation. A person with the spirit of liberation can let go of anything, holding to nothing. Such freedom is itself a kind of incense.

(5) The Incense of Right View. A wise person has foresight—knowing when to act and when to stop, with clear thought and correct view, all that one does is right. This too is a kind of incense.

There is also a fragrance with no substance and no smell—reputation. To make one's name fragrant, one must follow the Buddha's guidance, take the Buddha's heart as one's own, and meet others with compassion, joy, generosity, and forgiveness. This is the true meaning of the fivefold incense.

2. Offering of Flowers

Flowers clear the mind and rest the eyes. No wonder scholars like to place a vase of flowers on their desk to enhance the pleasure of reading. Offering flowers to the Buddha adorns the hall; placing fresh flowers in a vase each day, their fragrance lifts the heart and gladdens the eyes. A few quiet, fragrant flowers in a dignified Buddha hall naturally bring forth a reverent spirit.

Among the ten offerings, flowers represent material offering. In Buddhism we often hear that the Buddha, "holding up a flower, smiled" at Vulture Peak—testimony to how closely flowers are tied to the Dharma. Since this has come up, let me share the origin of that story.

According to the Sutra in which the Great Brahmā Asks the Buddha to Resolve His Doubts: "The Brahmā King came to Vulture Peak and offered a golden Pāricchaka flower to the Buddha, giving his own body as a seat and asking the Buddha to teach the Dharma. The World-Honored One ascended the seat, held up the flower before the assembly, and remained silent. The hundred thousands of gods and humans present were all at a loss—only the golden-headed ascetic broke into a smile. The World-Honored One said: 'I have the treasury of the true Dharma-eye, the wondrous mind of nirvāṇa, true reality beyond form, the subtle Dharma-gate, independent of words and letters, a special transmission outside the teachings, entrusted to Mahākāśyapa.'"

This is the origin of the patriarchal transmission of the Zen school. If we trace the school even further back, the seed was already there when Śākyamuni Buddha, sitting beneath the Bodhi tree, gazed upon the morning star at night and attained supreme enlightenment. The hallmark of Zen is "mind sealing mind," pointing directly to the human mind, that one may see one's nature and become a Buddha.

From the passage above you can see how closely "holding up a flower, smiling" is bound up with the Zen school. That is why flowers are listed among the offerings to the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas.

3. Offering of Lamps

Lamps here don't only mean electric lights—anything that can dispel darkness and bring brightness, like candles and oil lamps, falls under the offering of lamps. In Buddhism, passing on the Dharma is also called "passing the lamp." It is like a father passing wealth to his son, but the meaning is different. When wealth is passed on, what one has must decrease; but when the Buddha passes on the Dharma, it is like one lamp lighting another—each lamp shines, and the lamps never run out. As the saying goes, "One lamp can keep a thousand lamps alight." It does not diminish oneself, yet it benefits others. From this we can see that passing on the Dharma in Buddhism and passing on wealth in the world may look the same, but are in fact quite different.

A lamp means turning from darkness toward light. May each of us be a lamp on a dark road, dispelling the gloom of the world and bringing brightness to the universe and the earth.

4. Offering of Water (塗 tu)

The character 塗 is a transliteration from Sanskrit meaning "water." The scriptures say, "Water can wash away defilement and bring coolness." Water not only cleanses filth and makes things pure, it also has a harmonizing nature. Whether from great rivers or small streams, whether clear or murky, when waters gather in one place they merge into one, and no one can tell where each came from.

When we offer water to the Buddha, we wash away the defilements of our own mind, and the karmic obstacles of past, present, and future are all swept clean. Once the mind is pure, the self-nature appears—so why lament that the way to Buddhahood is far? All of us should learn from water's harmony and equality, with no distinctions. Then, in our dealings with others and in handling affairs, we can be worthy before heaven, worthy before others, and worthy before our own conscience. Our days will pass in peace of mind, light and free.

5. Offering of Fruit

On the surface, "fruit" means fruit. On a deeper level, it means "result." Whatever we begin, we must carry through to the end and not give up halfway. The one who plants fruit trees must be willing to do the hard work—planting, fertilizing, watering. Only when the tree blossoms and bears fruit is the harvest rich, and only then has the labor paid off.

A practitioner of the way should be the same. We must give rise to the great mind, press on diligently, unafraid of hardship, undismayed by obstacles, and never let the mind of the way falter and yield no fruit. What a pity that would be.

6. Offering of Tea

Tea can drive away the demon of drowsiness. When a person feels sleepy, a good cup of tea brings boundless energy. This is a hint to practitioners: we must not grow dull or drowsy. We should keep examining ourselves, looking within each day to see whether our thoughts and actions are correct. If our principles are unclear, if we don't understand the Buddha's teaching, if we are muddled about everything, we are like someone sleeping all day without waking—wasting our precious time, failing our own lives.

7. Offering of Food

Offering rice and dishes to the Buddha expresses a reverent heart, and the meaning runs deep. When Buddhist disciples make a food offering, they set out seven grains of rice and recite:

"The power of Dharma is inconceivable, Compassion knows no obstruction; Seven grains reach the ten directions, Bestowed on all within the Dharma realm."

Then they recite a mantra three times, expressing that the principle of the Buddha's Dharma is so deep and wonderful it cannot be grasped by thought, and its workings are so extraordinary they cannot be put into words. The Buddha, with great compassion, gives joy to all beings; with great compassion, he lifts the suffering of all beings. Through the power of this compassion, the ten directions are open and unobstructed. With seven tiny grains, the ten directions are filled; with a small fresh offering, the Dharma realm is reached—we can see how inconceivable the power of Dharma is, and how mighty the sacred mantras.

In the world, whether sentient beings or insentient plants and trees, none can do without "food." Don't flowers and trees also need the nourishment of dew and soil? Beyond physical food, human beings need something even more important: virtue to adorn our character, virtue to uphold an enduring spirit, so that it may shine through the ages and never fade.

8. Offering of Treasures

Gold, silver, and other treasures can be used anywhere. If a person has "faith"—faith in oneself, keeping faith with teachers and friends, integrity even in a dark room, peace of conscience even when alone—then others will revere them as if they were a god, and treat them as honored guests.

9. Offering of Pearls

Pearls stand for roundness. Practitioners of the way should carry out their work thoroughly, treat others with harmony, and avoid lopsidedness or incompleteness.

10. Offering of Clothing

This means using garments to make offerings to the Three Jewels. "Clothing" here extends to the sense of "relying on." In practice, clothing must be worn on the body to show its quality; in principle, practitioners of the way must rely on the Buddha, rely on the Buddhist scriptures, and rely on those who have left the household. By following the path the Buddha has pointed out, one can attain ultimate liberation.

Pure Water: Pure water is one of the ten offerings. Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva uses this pure water to wash away the three calamities and eight difficulties. This is why the Praise of Willow Branch and Pure Water is placed before the Universal Gateway chapter.

Next, I'd like to talk about the meaning of the three characters 利人天, "benefiting humans and heavens." Earlier I spoke of water's empty nature and the uses of the eight-virtue water. Now I will speak of water's benefits—how this water can benefit the six realms of gods and humans. What are the six realms?

1. The Deva realm
2. The Human realm
3. The Asura realm
4. The Animal realm
5. The Hungry Ghost realm
6. The Hell realm

The upper three are called the three wholesome paths, because the karma they create and the conditions in which they live are relatively favorable; the lower three are called the three unwholesome paths, because the karma they create and the conditions in which they live are relatively dire.

(1) The Deva Realm

The heavens are the foremost of the three wholesome paths, twenty-eight in all. An ordinary person who keeps the five precepts and practices the ten wholesome deeds will, at the end of life, be reborn in the heavens as a deva. Devas enjoy bliss without suffering. But heavenly blessings are conditioned; when the merit is used up, they must still fall, receiving their retribution according to past lives, never escaping saṃsāra.

When a deva's heavenly blessings are about to run out, five signs appear, known as the five signs of decline:

1. Filthy, Greasy Garments. While the blessings remain, clothing and food are not lacking and look splendid and new; when the blessings are exhausted, the garments become soiled, ragged, and unbearable.

2. Withering of the Head-Flower. Devas wear fresh flowers on their heads as adornment, and these flowers never wilt. When the blessings are exhausted, the flowers begin to wither.

3. Foul Smell of the Body. As long as a deva's heavenly lifespan remains, the body gives off a clean fragrance, without any foul odor. When the lifespan ends, the body gives off all kinds of unpleasant odors.

4. Sweat from the Armpits. A deva's body does not give off foul sweat, but when the blessings are exhausted, sweat appears from the armpits.

5. Discomfort in the Seat. Each deva has his or her own seat. While the lifespan is not yet finished, they sit peacefully; when the lifespan is about to end, they can no longer settle in their seat.

(2) The Human Realm

To be reborn in the human realm is neither the harsh oppression of the three unwholesome paths nor the bliss of the heavens. Human life is a mixture of suffering and joy—sometimes suffering, sometimes joy, alternating without warning. For cultivators of the Buddha's Dharma, however, this is an excellent environment. The unwholesome realms are too full of suffering to leave any leisure for cultivation; the heavens are too blissful, their denizens lost in enjoyment, with wisdom steadily dulling—neither is in tune with the Dharma.

In the human realm it is like sharpening a knife on a stone—the more it is sharpened, the sharper it becomes. Being born in the heavens is like cutting into earth with a knife—the more it cuts, the duller it grows. Among the six realms, the human realm is the "pivot of rising and falling." Rebirth in the heavens comes from the wholesome karma accumulated in the human form, and from the cultivation of meditative absorption. To leave the household, keep the precepts, cultivate, put an end to birth and death, and become a Buddha—only human beings can do these things. Falling into the unwholesome paths is also, in most cases, the result of evil karma made in the human form. A human being doing evil can sink to the lowest extreme; a human being doing good can rise to the highest. As the scriptures say, "Hard it is to obtain a human life, hard it is to hear the Buddha's Dharma." We ordinary beings should be vigilant—practice goodness, cultivate wisdom, and not let slip the human form and fall into the unwholesome paths.

(3) The Asura Realm

"Asura" is translated as "without beauty," referring to their ugly appearance. It is also translated as "without wine," because in their realm wine cannot be brewed. It is also translated as "non-god," because they have the blessings of gods but lack the virtue of gods. Within the human and deva realms, there are also Asura beings. Those who, in a former life, did not break the precepts and could practice giving, but never let go of anger, whose fire of hatred blazed fiercely, whose pride and ill thoughts were never removed, and who were by nature combative—these are the beings of this path.

(4) The Animal Realm

All animals spoken of in modern times (human beings excepted) belong to the animal realm. Their forms, colors, dwellings, lifestyles, and lifespans are all different. Birds, insects, fish, and beasts—some live in the sea, in water, on land, or in the air. The main suffering of the animal realm is mutual killing and devouring. Big fish eat small fish, big insects eat small insects—we can see this everywhere. Human beings too have the bad habit of killing and devouring animals: slaughtering chickens and ducks to satisfy the appetite, whipping oxen and horses, forcing them to work without a moment of freedom. Being born in this realm is one of the three unwholesome paths, and the suffering here is second only to that of hell.

(5) The Hungry Ghost Realm

The hungry ghosts of the three unwholesome realms, as the name suggests, are beings tormented by hunger and thirst. In the Flaming Mouth ritual text, there is a passage describing the main cause of the origin of the rite, which depicts the appearance of hungry ghosts:

"Their forms are ugly and hideous, their limbs creak like a broken cart, the fire of hunger blazes within, their throats are as thin as the point of a needle."

The cause is always the evil karma of a former life: stinginess and greed, failure to give, breaking the precepts, violating Bodhisattva vows. The teachings say that hungry ghosts fall into three main kinds: those without wealth, those with little wealth, and those with abundant wealth. Those who cannot get food or drink are the wealthless ghosts. Those with some dignity and virtue are the spirits of mountains, forests, tombs, and temples, who can receive offerings or food discarded by humans—they are the wealthy ghosts. Since hungry ghosts suffer as the fruit of stingy greed and broken precepts, we should give rise to a mind of joy and giving to help the poor, give rise to a firm mind to uphold the precepts, pray for rebirth in the wholesome paths, and aspire further to be born in the Buddha's Pure Land.

(6) The Hell Realm

Hell is divided into four categories, totaling eighteen hells. These eighteen hells within their four categories are the most painful and most dire places of retribution within the three unwholesome paths. As long as we have not yet escaped birth and death, every one of us may fall into this path. We should give rise to a heart of great fear and not create evil karma.

The six realms have been outlined in brief. I trust a picture of the six realms has formed in your minds. But everyone should remember—"Hard it is to obtain a human life." Hold this body firmly, cultivate diligently, and never create karma that would cast you down into the unwholesome paths.

Earlier we discussed the empty nature, the eight virtues, and the benefit to gods and humans. How, exactly, does the willow branch and pure water benefit the six realms of gods and humans?

• It benefits the heavens, so that the five signs of decline do not appear.
• It benefits humans, so that the four marks all become empty.
• It benefits Asuras, so that the angry mind never arises.
• It benefits animals, sparing them the suffering of wearing fur and growing horns.
• It benefits hungry ghosts, sparing them the suffering of needle-thin throats and burning hunger and thirst.
• It benefits the denizens of hell, freeing them from the punishments of knife-mountains and sword-trees.

"Hungry ghosts escape the needle-thin throat" was already touched on above. They are reborn as hungry ghosts because of greed, suffering the torment of hunger and thirst, a pain beyond endurance. The only way out is to "seek the Dharma diligently and practice giving generously"—only then can greed and stinginess be utterly extinguished.

Next, I will discuss the fifth line of the praise text, 滅罪消愆—"extinguishing transgressions and dissolving faults." This line refers to extinguishing the transgression of animals being born wearing fur and growing horns.

Most people who live in ignorance and refuse to wake up, who reject the guidance of sages and good teachers, who insist on their own views and act recklessly—these people will inevitably fall into this realm after death. To be born as an animal means not only enduring the hardship of bearing fur and horns, being yoked to plow the fields, and suffering under the whip, but after death one must also undergo the torment of boiling water and being butchered on the block. So as human beings we should rightly take refuge in Buddhism and become people who observe the Dharma and keep faith, who understand reason and comprehend righteousness. Never try to take advantage of others or fail to repay what we owe. Know that cause and effect never miss their mark, not even by the slightest fraction. This foolish debt will have to be cleared sooner or later.

The final line—"The flames transform into red lotuses"—refers to hell. The sutras tell us that the hells include the "eight cold, eight hot, neighboring, isolated, and suspended upside-down" and so forth, where countless offenders suffer. These offenders, because of the unwholesome karma they created during their lives, fall into hell upon death and undergo every manner of punishment. Some who commit the five heinous offenses and the ten evils are destined, upon dying, to fall into the Avici Hell, eighty-three thousand yojanas beneath the earth's surface, where they endure suffering for measureless kalpas. This is what is meant by "hell."

We often hear people say, "Hell has measureless suffering, but no one has seen it—who would believe it?" In fact, if you pay attention and reflect carefully, you can already see the face of hell right here in the fivefold turbid evil world we all share. There are people who spend their whole lives in poverty and misery—clothing insufficient to cover their bodies, never knowing when they will eat, with no fixed dwelling, wandering the streets and alleys. In summer they endure the blazing sun; in winter they are buffeted by the bitter north wind, shivering ceaselessly. Are such lives really any different from dwelling in hell? Then there are those who break the law and end up behind bars. They need not worry about food or shelter, but their spirits are crushed, their freedom of movement is gone, and they have tasted enough of life behind iron bars—is this not like hell itself? When you go to the market to buy food and look up, the chickens and ducks hung upside down, the pigs and sheep with their bellies slit and entrails exposed—are these not like the hell of sword trees and knife mountains, of flaying and dismemberment? Narrowing the scope further, within every person's own heart there is also a hell. When someone constantly thinks of doing evil, constantly seeks to bring others down, when the mind is full of greed, when the fires of anger blaze, and when jealousy consumes them—that is hell. When someone is never content, blaming Heaven and resenting others, always discontent with their position no matter what, troubled and uneasy, with not a single moment of peace within—that too is hell. Where is hell? Hell is within the human heart. As it is said, "The three realms are only mind; the myriad dharmas are only consciousness." Every good deed and every evil deed originates in the mind. When the mind gives rise to a thought of good or evil, the deeds of body and speech proceed to carry it out. When an evil thought arises and evil karma is created, an actual hell will manifest to make us suffer. Therefore, at the very instant a thought arises, we should govern it well, so that we will not, because of a single errant thought, fall into a state from which we cannot recover for ten thousand kalpas.

What has been explained above—hungry ghosts, animals, and hell—all belong to the three evil realms. Faced with these three destinies, sentient beings must cultivate a mind of awe and dread, abandon the heterodox and return to the proper, turn from delusion back to enlightenment. Practice the Buddha-Dharma and cultivate giving—and after giving, harbor no expectation of return, achieving "no self who gives, no person who receives, and no object that is given." This is called giving with the three wheels empty, the true meaning of giving. By practicing giving, one can eliminate greed and stinginess and avoid the suffering of hungry ghosts. By studying the Buddha-Dharma and understanding its profound meaning, one can remove self-clinging and self-view, brighten wisdom, heal the illness of ignorance, and escape the suffering of animals. By cultivating the threefold training of precepts, meditation, and wisdom, every stirring of mind and every movement of thought becomes wholesome; the body commits no evil, the mouth utters no evil speech, and one avoids falling into hell to undergo its manifold sufferings. The sutra states: "Taking refuge in the Buddha, one will not fall into hell; taking refuge in the Dharma, one will not fall into the realm of hungry ghosts; taking refuge in the Sangha, one will not fall into the animal realm." This is its meaning.

The intent of the willow branch and pure water has now been fully explained.

Namo Qingliang Di Bodhisattva Mahasattva Namo Qingliang Di Bodhisattva Mahasattva Namo Qingliang Di Bodhisattva Mahasattva

Below the verse of praise, one must chant "Namo Qingliang Di Bodhisattva Mahasattva" three times. "Namo" is a Sanskrit word, pronounced nà-mó, and translated into Chinese it means "reverence," "taking refuge with one's life," and "ferry me across," representing the spirit of sincere faith and trust. "Bodhisattva" refers to a being of great resolve who cultivates the six perfections—generosity, moral discipline, patience, diligence, meditation, and wisdom—together with the ten thousand practices, and who generates the great vow of seeking Buddhahood above while transforming sentient beings below. "Mahasattva" has two meanings: first, it refers to a great bodhisattva among bodhisattvas, as when we say Guanyin Bodhisattva Mahasattva, referring to a single person; second, it is used more broadly to refer to bodhisattvas or great bodhisattvas in general. Taken together, the phrase means "the great-vowed sage who, for the entirety of his life, takes refuge and attains the status of coolness and freedom, who seeks Buddhahood above and transforms sentient beings below." Generally, before reciting the Universal Gateway Chapter, one must join palms together and chant "Namo Guanyin Bodhisattva" three times. "Namo" has already been explained; "Guanyin" was also touched on earlier. Guanyin Bodhisattva is one of great compassion, a bestower of fearlessness who illuminates the world. This bodhisattva is in truth the Tathagata Zhengfa Ming of the past, who, observing the suffering of sentient beings, manifested a bodhisattva form and assumed countless bodies to rescue them. Therefore, we should "take refuge in and rely upon the awakened one who, with vast benevolence, vast compassion, and great pity, observes the sounds of suffering in the world and gives rise to the mind of saving those who cry out."

Not only must we take refuge in and rely upon Guanyin Bodhisattva, we must further emulate the spirit of the bodhisattva—keeping a compassionate heart, treating foes and loved ones with equal regard, arousing the wish to pity, relieve, and rescue all sentient beings, and not allowing the three poisons of greed, hatred, and ignorance to corrode us or obscure our originally luminous inner nature.

Opening Verse of the Sutra:

The supreme, profound, and wondrous Dharma— In a hundred, thousand, ten thousand kalpas it is hard to encounter. Now that I see it, hear it, and receive and uphold it, I vow to comprehend the Tathagata's true meaning.

This is the supreme, most exalted, profound, subtle, and wondrous principle that leads to Buddhahood—the Dharma itself. The Dharma can teach you to understand cause and recognize effect. What is the benefit of understanding cause and effect? Once you understand it, you will face your own fortunes of poverty and prosperity with calm equanimity, accepting adversity and going along with what is favorable. You will not be tempted by acts of villainy or wrongdoing. The principle of cause and effect can comfort us and inspire us; every action then has a standard, so we will not overstep the bounds and break the law. The Dharma can help us cut off evil and turn toward goodness. Buddhism encompasses both worldly and supramundane teachings: it cherishes the world and delivers sentient beings universally, and it also cultivates supramundane paths and attains liberation. That is why Buddhism is richer than any other religion or philosophy. The Dharma is not merely something to have faith in—it is a path that equally emphasizes practice and understanding. So once we have taken faith in Buddhism and heard the true Dharma, we let our daily conduct stay within the proper bounds, and we can cut off every evil dharma and cultivate wholesome ones.

The Dharma can help us leave suffering and attain happiness. Those who have heard the Dharma take it as their support everywhere; they do not blame Heaven nor find fault with others, they constantly maintain wholesome thoughts, harbor no mind of affliction or harm, no mind of jealousy or rage. Gradually, body and mind become at ease and expansive, and every unwholesome thought and deed departs far away. In this way, afflictions do not arise. Without afflictions there is no suffering, and without suffering—is that not the moment when happiness arrives?

The Dharma can transform ordinary beings into sages. After hearing the Dharma, one can study what the Buddha studied and practice what the Buddha practiced. The aim of cultivation is to forever escape the bonds of birth and death and realize the state of Nirvana, where there is neither birth nor death. If one does not believe in Buddhism and does not hear the unsurpassed wondrous Dharma, how could one turn from an ordinary being into a sage, from delusion into enlightenment? Sentient beings have wandered through a thousand, ten thousand lives, cycling through birth and death, yet because of the depth and weight of their karmic obstacles, it is difficult to encounter the Dharma. In this life, I am fortunate enough to behold the Buddhist sutras, to hear in person the wondrous principles of the Dharma, to receive its benefits, and to uphold this rare sacred scripture. Still, this is only an understanding through words and letters, not the ultimate understanding. Therefore, I vow to generate the great resolve, to give rise to an aspiring mind, to seek to comprehend the true meaning and principle of the Dharma, and then to cultivate diligently, following the teachings in practice, in order to attain the Buddha way.

The opening verse has now been briefly explained. Next, we will briefly clarify the title of this sutra.

Sutra Title:

The full title of this sutra is "The Universal Gateway of the Bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara Chapter of the Lotus Sutra of the Wonderful Dharma," thirteen characters in all. The text itself contains 2,062 characters. Sutra titles are given in no more than seven ways:

1. Named after a person: the Amitābha Sūtra, for example, takes a person's name as its title.

2. Named after a dharma: the Pratyutpanna Samādhi Sūtra, for instance. Pratyutpanna samādhi is a method of cultivation, and the sūtra is named for the dharma it teaches.

3. Named after a metaphor: the Sūtra of the Reed Wisp, where the reed wisp stands as a metaphor for conditioned arising—a single-metaphor naming.

4. Named after a person and a dharma: the "Universal Worthy's Practices and Vows" chapter, which contains both a figure and a dharma.

5. Named after a person and a metaphor: the Tathāgata's Lion's Roar Sūtra, where the Tathāgata is the person and the lion's roar is the metaphor.

6. Named after a dharma and a metaphor: the Lotus Sūtra of the Wonderful Dharma. "Wonderful Dharma" is the dharma; "lotus" is the metaphor—hence a dharma-metaphor naming.

7. Named after a person, a dharma, and a metaphor: the Mahāvaipulya Buddha Avataṃsaka Sūtra. Mahāvaipulya ("vast and great") is the dharma; Buddha is the person; Avataṃsaka ("flower ornament") is the metaphor. All three—person, dharma, and metaphor—are complete.

The Lotus Sūtra of the Wonderful Dharma falls into the dharma-metaphor category. Its original Sanskrit name is Saddharma Puṇḍarīka Sūtra: saddharma translated into Chinese as 妙法 (wonderful dharma), puṇḍarīka as 莲华 (lotus), and sūtra as 经. The meaning of these four characters is genuinely vast and deep when examined closely. The Tiantai patriarch Master Zhizhe once spoke on the single character "wonderful" (妙) for ninety days—known as the "nine ten-day periods on the wonderful." For lack of time, we can only offer a brief explanation here.

The sutra is called the Lotus Sūtra of the Wonderful Dharma because the teachings throughout are profound and subtle. "Dharma" in Sanskrit is dharma, which carries the sense of "not falling." There is an old story: a villager heard the Dharma but could not understand the meaning of the teaching, so he asked the master, "I can't fully follow the Dharma you teach. Tomorrow, when you come, would you bring a 'dharma' along so I can see it?" The Dharma is something whose benefit is received through hearing, contemplating, and cultivating. What method could be used to show this villager what "dharma" means? The next day, the master brought a tumbler doll and said, "The Buddha-Dharma is just like this tumbler—it stands forever without toppling." From this we see that the Dharma is unchanging across past and present, ever fresh through countless kalpas; it can overturn all false teachings yet remains unbroken by any falsehood. So whoever walks in step with the Buddha-Dharma will stand upright like a tumbler, never falling in any place or circumstance.

The word "dharma" in "wonderful dharma" also covers every dharma in both worldly and supramundane realms—dharmas with outflows and without, conditioned and unconditioned, the dharmas of ordinary beings and the dharmas of sages. To spell each one out in detail is neither possible nor necessary, so the teachings group these countless boundless dharmas into three great categories: the dharma of mind, the dharma of sentient beings, and the dharma of Buddha. Every category is exceedingly wonderful, hence "wonderful dharma." As a sūtra says, "Mind, Buddha, and sentient beings—the three are not different." The wonder of dharmas lies precisely here. The principle runs deep and isn't easy to grasp, yet this inconceivable wonderful dharma is inherent in everyone. Sentient beings are sentient beings because they've grown confused about it; the Buddhas are Buddhas because they've awakened to it. A little distinction, then, is necessary.

Why is the dharma of mind wonderful? Take the human realm as the starting point: the present momentary mind is the center, and everyone with a mind cannot help but give rise to thoughts, each one different from the last. A fleeting thought of greed drops you into the realm of hungry ghosts; a thought of anger, into hell; a thought of ignorance, into the animal realm; jealousy lands you among the asuras; a wholesome moral thought places you in the human realm; ten good thoughts carry you to the heavens; a thought of self-emptiness places you among the śrāvakas; a thought of conditioned arising, among the pratyekabuddhas; a great thought of bodhicitta places you in the bodhisattva realm; a thought of compassion and equality places you in the Buddha realm. The human realm contains these ten, and the other nine realms each contain the same ten. The realms mutually contain one another, making a hundred realms—and all of them fit within a single thought. The dharma of mind is inconceivable, which is why it's called wonderful.

Within a single thought of a sentient being, the ten dharma realms are already present. So we can see that the so-called Buddha and bodhisattva are right within our own minds. Hence the common Mahāyāna saying: "It is this mind that becomes a Buddha; it is this mind that is Buddha." And again: "It is this mind that is a bodhisattva; it is this mind that becomes a bodhisattva." By the same token, if you want to rise to heaven or fall into hell, it's all created by your own mind. If your mind wants to rise, no one can drag you down to hell; if your mind wants to fall, no one can haul you up to heaven. As the saying goes: "This mind holds hell within it; this mind creates hell; this mind holds heaven; this mind creates heaven." Whether we take the standpoint of supramundane dharma or sit within worldly dharma, a single human thought can't be thought out or spoken aloud. That's the wonderfulness of mind-dharma. The ancient masters put it this way: "If you know the mind, not an inch of earth remains on the great earth." The most important thing in life is to come to know the mind in your own breast—and that kind of knowing takes patient refining. That's why the Buddha tells us to "cultivate the mind at all times, never letting it grow lax."

Why is the dharma of sentient beings wonderful? All living things in the world are called "sentient beings." Their activity comes down to the three karmas of body, speech, and mind. Whatever these three karmas do, good or bad, is driven by afflictions (delusions), and through them beings create all kinds of good and evil karma. Pushed along by that karma, they wander through the six realms and reap the consequences. Think it over, and you'll see that this world is nothing but the turning wheel of delusion, karma, and suffering. So why call it wonderful? You need to understand: the supreme Buddha-fruit we seek, the tathāgatagarbha nature we already possess—where would we look for it if not in these very three? When delusion and karma no longer arise, we needn't undergo the suffering of birth and death. Once greed, anger, and ignorance are exhausted, the wisdom and virtue inherent in us appear right before us. That's why the sacred texts say, "Samsāra is itself nirvāṇa; afflictions are themselves bodhi." To abandon afflictions and search for bodhi elsewhere is like looking for a rabbit's horn—there's simply nothing there.

Why is the Buddha-dharma wonderful? A Buddha is a great awakened one whose awakening is complete in self, in others, and in the conduct of awakening. Looking through the Buddha-eye, everything is subtle and beyond conception. Sentient beings are the sentient beings within the Buddha's mind; the myriad things are the myriad things within the Buddha's mind. Every dharma is suchness; every dharma is prajñā. There's no high or low, no far or near. The Buddha has no other dharma to attain; what the Buddha attains is the very dharma of sentient beings' minds. The Buddha is the great awakened one—"awakened" simply means undeluded. Our own present thought, so long as it isn't deluded by worldly conditions, is already the Buddha. As a sūtra says, "When a single thought does not arise, that is the thusness Buddha"—precisely the point. That's the wonderfulness of Buddha-dharma.

Because it holds the wonderfulness of Buddha-dharma, of sentient-beings dharma, and of mind-dharma, it's called the wonderful dharma. This wonderful dharma cannot be thought out, cannot be put into words. It is inherently present, not sought from elsewhere—hence "wonderful dharma." Every being with a mind has it; whether you realize it or not depends on the effort you yourself put in.

What about "lotus" (莲华)? The meaning of the two characters was touched on earlier; let me go into a little more detail now. The original Sanskrit of the Lotus Sūtra of the Wonderful Dharma is Saddharma Puṇḍarīka Sūtra. Saddharma is short for sad-dharma; puṇḍarīka was originally puṇḍarīkā. Properly speaking, puṇḍarīkā should be translated as "white lotus," so the sutra ought to be called the "Wonderful Dharma White Lotus Sūtra," shortened to "Lotus Sūtra of the Wonderful Dharma." The reason it carries the name "Lotus Sūtra of the Wonderful Dharma" is that it draws on both the lotus itself and the lotus as a metaphor.

The lotus itself draws on the lotus's quality of sinking into the mud yet staying unstained. The wonderful dharma is originally pure and untouched by the world's filth. Just as the Buddha-nature within delusion isn't stained by dust, the lotus within the mud isn't dirtied by murk—hence the "pure wonderful flower." The metaphorical lotus draws on the fact that the flower and the fruit appear together. Most plants flower first and fruit later; the lotus is different—even before the flower opens, the fruit is already there. The lotus, with flower and fruit simultaneous, stands as a metaphor for the non-duality of cause and effect in the wonderful dharma, the non-duality of sentient beings and Buddhas. When the lotus opens, the fruit appears at the same time—signifying how the true suchness of dharmas reveals itself in keeping with each being's capacity. When the lotus drops away, the fruit reaches full ripeness—signifying how, once illusion is cleared away, the true suchness inherent in us, along with every wonderful virtue and wisdom and the supreme fruit of the One Vehicle, comes to full completeness. The lotus of simultaneous flower and fruit stands for the non-duality of cause and effect: for the nine realms of sentient beings, delusion is the cause; for the Buddha-realm, awakening is the fruit. By the principle explained earlier—that each of the ten realms contains the ten realms—the Buddha-realm contains the sentient-being realm, and the sentient-being realm contains the Buddha-realm. Within the cause is the fruit; within the fruit is the cause. Cause and fruit arise together, just as the lotus produces flower and fruit at once. That is the meaning of the metaphorical lotus.

And what of "sūtra" (经)? In Sanskrit, "sūtra" is sūtra, properly translated as "accordance sūtra" (契经)—it accords above with the truth of all Buddhas, and accords below with the capacities of sentient beings. Sūtras are spoken by the Buddhas to point out a direct path of practice, so they must accord with both principle (li) and the capacities of beings (genji). Only by meeting beings where they are can they inspire faith and practice; only by meeting the truth of the Buddhas can they free us from inverted and false views. Ordinary people telling jokes or singing folk songs can meet people where they are, drawing out laughter or response—but all of that comes from deluded minds and scattered thoughts. It may meet the capacities, but it doesn't meet the principle, and so it offers no real benefit. Only the sūtras of the Buddha flow forth from great compassion, observed by the Buddha's eye of wisdom. They not only meet the capacities of sentient beings but guide us along the road to Buddhahood.

The sūtra has five meanings:

1. Gushing spring (涌泉): The principles within the sūtras are like a spring, gushing forth inexhaustibly. There's no end to what it offers, and drinking from it is like sweet dew, cool beyond compare.

2. Giving birth (出生): It gives birth to all good dharmas. The Buddha's wonderful dharma comes through the principles of the sūtras; practicing in line with the teaching, one cuts off all evil and cultivates every good dharma.

3. Displaying (显示): The Buddha's sacred texts clearly display the right principle, teaching us to enter the path of sages and worthies, never straying off the road.

4. Plumb line (绳墨): The Buddha's teachings can tell right from wrong, straighten what is crooked, and serve as the standard for all we do, without the slightest deviation.

5. Threading through and holding (贯穿摄持): The teaching of the Tathāgata threads through the meaning of his words so that nothing is lost—and his meaning, from the start, is of one piece. "Holding" means the Tathāgata universally transforms and guides sentient beings, keeping them from falling into the three evil paths. The teachings proclaimed from the Tathāgata's golden mouth are unchanging across past and present, and can serve as the path by which we become Buddhas and ancestors. That is why it's called a sūtra.

Regarding the source of the title "Lotus Sūtra of the Wonderful Dharma," the Expedient Means chapter of the Lotus Sūtra says: "These various Tathāgata Buddhas proclaim it only at the right time, just as the udumbara flower appears but once." The "udumbara flower" is translated as "blue lotus"—an auspicious blossom. In this Sahā world we know of it only from the sūtras, never having seen its seed, which shows how rare and precious it is. The Tathāgata's unfolding of the Lotus Sūtra's wonderful dharma is like the blooming of this rare flower, as the Expedient Means chapter explains in great detail.

The Universal Gateway of the Bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara Chapter

This chapter is called "The Universal Gateway of the Bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara Chapter." Avalokiteśvara is the person; the Universal Gateway is the dharma. Avalokiteśvara is the one who realizes; the Universal Gateway is what is realized. So this chapter is named for a person and a dharma. The three characters "Avalokiteśvara" (观世音) form a specific title—only Avalokiteśvara is addressed this way. The two characters "bodhisattva" (菩萨) are a general term—anyone who gives rise to bodhicitta and walks the bodhisattva path can be called a bodhisattva; it isn't the exclusive title of any one being.

The Bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara was touched on briefly earlier. Now let's turn to the two characters "Universal Gateway" (普门). Because this bodhisattva appears throughout the ten directions, observing the capacities of sentient beings and working to transform and save them, expounding many dharmas with hundreds of different emanation-bodies—not restricted to a single dharma or a single gate—the name "Universal Gateway" fits.

The Universal Gateway has ten aspects:

1. The Universal Gateway of Compassion (慈悲普门): Compassion is a central dharma gate in Buddhism. The bodhisattva, with a single thought of compassion, relieves and saves all sentient beings without distinction—self and other, wise and foolish, worthy and unworthy—taking the suffering of sentient beings as one's own suffering and their joy as one's own joy, with no separation between those one loves and those one resents. This is the "great unaffectioned loving-kindness, great shared compassion."

2. The Universal Gateway of Vows (誓愿普门): The bodhisattva vows to save all sentient beings, inspiring great faith in those who've never placed their trust in the Buddha's teaching, granting great wisdom to those who don't yet understand the sūtras so they can grasp the Buddha's meaning—and then urging them to cut off evil and cultivate good, bringing all beings onto the great way of nirvāṇa and liberation.

3. The Universal Gateway of Practice (修行普门): It lets every sentient being fulfill what they cultivate, right up to the perfectly pure Buddha-ground of the Mahāyāna.

4. The Universal Gateway of Severing Delusions (断惑普门): The bodhisattva of perfect awakening gazes on the middle way and shatters ignorance. Only when ignorance is shattered are the three categories of delusion cut off. By gradual practice, one severs them gradually. Now, through the power of compassion and vow, the bodhisattva lets every cultivator cut off all delusions at once—untroubled by them and transcending the sacred stages in a single leap.

5. The Universal Gateway of Entering the Dharma Gates (入法门普门): The bodhisattva perfectly cultivates the six pāramitās without distinction of greater or lesser, opening a vast gate to welcome sentient beings and lead them onward toward bodhi.

6. The Universal Gateway of Spiritual Powers (神通普门): The bodhisattva is fully endowed with the six spiritual powers, whose reach is vast and boundless. There is nothing the bodhisattva does not see, nowhere the bodhisattva does not appear.

7. The Universal Gateway of Expedient Means (方便普门): The bodhisattva observes each being's capacity and meets them with the right teaching, taking on forms suited to each type, manifesting through countless expedient means to rescue and benefit beings in the various realms.

8. The Universal Gateway of Teaching the Dharma (说法普门): With a single sound the bodhisattva expounds the Dharma, and each sentient being understands according to their own type. Because Avalokiteśvara possesses profound and wonderful wisdom, when teaching within a single Dharma assembly, different dharmas are spoken at once, so that everyone present can understand in keeping with their own wisdom and faculties and gain the true benefit of the Buddha-Dharma. That is why this is called the Universal Gateway of Teaching the Dharma.

9. The Universal Gateway of Making Offerings to All Buddhas (供养诸佛普门): As the saying goes, "Choosing a Buddha, burn incense"—the bodhisattva does not work that way. Whether the Buddhas of the present, past, or future, the bodhisattva offers to each with single-minded sincerity, with no discrimination at all.

10. The Universal Gateway of Accomplishing Sentient Beings (成就众生普门): The bodhisattva benefits all sentient beings and helps all that they do come to fulfillment. Just as the sky sends down rain and dew and every living thing on the earth receives its share, all beings share together in the blessing of the Dharma.

The ten aspects of the Universal Gateway have been briefly explained.

Translator:

The sutra was translated by the Tripitaka Master Kumarajiva of the Yao Qin dynasty. A Tripitaka Master is one who is thoroughly versed in the three collections—the Sūtras, the Vinaya, and the Abhidharma—and who uses this knowledge to benefit both self and others, teaching sentient beings, and so becoming a model for us all. Kumarajiva is the greatest translator in the history of Chinese Buddhist translation. He was born in Kucha, a small kingdom in Central Asia, south of the Tianshan Mountains.

His father, Kumarayana, came from a distinguished Indian family in central India. He traveled to Kucha, where his virtue and learning so impressed the king that the king gave him his own daughter in marriage. Kumarajiva was born to them soon after. From childhood, he showed exceptional intelligence and was mature beyond his years—his very name, rendered in Chinese as 童寿, means "Youthful Longevity." At the age of seven, he accompanied his mother on a long journey to visit eminent teachers and study the teachings in depth, eventually arriving in the kingdom of Kaśmīra.

One day, while visiting a temple with his mother, young Kumarajiva noticed a large ceremonial bronze chime hanging in the Buddha hall. Out of curiosity, he lifted it onto his head—and felt no weight at all. Then a thought struck him: "The chime is so large and I am so small. How can I possibly support it, yet feel nothing?" The moment this delusive thought arose, the chime suddenly grew heavy on his head. From this experience, he awakened to the principle that "all things are created by the mind alone."

Kaśmīra was a stronghold of the early Buddhist teachings, and Kumarajiva studied there. He later passed through the kingdom of Shule, where a prince named Shache had renounced his royal life to devote himself to the Dharma, focusing on the Mahayana teachings. One day, while reciting the Prajñāpāramitā Sūtra, Shache kept insisting that "emptiness is unattainable," which stood in sharp contrast to the Hinayana emphasis on "existence." Curious, Kumarajiva challenged him to a debate between the Mahayana and Hinayana positions—and was defeated. He became Shache's student and took up the study of Mahayana wisdom and śūnyatā. Before long, he had developed his own profound insights into the Mahayana teaching of emptiness, becoming its most powerful advocate. Even his former Hinayana teachers were converted by him, giving rise to the saying: "The teachers of the Mahayana and the Hinayana were each other's teachers."

Kumarajiva came to China more than fifteen hundred years ago, during the chaotic period of the Five Hu and Sixteen Kingdoms. The Jin dynasty had been pushed south by invading forces from the northwest and had set up its capital at Jianye on the lower Yangtze, becoming the Eastern Jin. Meanwhile, in the Yellow River basin, the formidable Fu Jian had established himself as ruler of Qin in Chang'an. A devout Buddhist, Fu Jian had heard of Kumarajiva's reputation and, filled with admiration, sent his great general Lü Guang with a large army to escort the master to China. But before this could happen, Fu Jian was struck by a stray arrow and killed at the Battle of Fei River. After the fall of Former Qin, Yao Chang seized power in the Guanzhong region and established the Later Qin—known as the Yao Qin.

Lü Guang, who had already secured Kumarajiva, heard of these changes on the return journey. He declared independence in Liangzhou and founded the kingdom of Liang. Fearing that Kumarajiva's brilliance might be turned against him, he kept the master in Liangzhou and refused to let him proceed to Guanzhong. Years later, Yao Xing—the second ruler of the Yao Qin, a devout Buddhist—invited Kumarajiva with great ceremony and generous offerings. In the third year of the Hongshi era, Kumarajiva finally arrived in Chang'an. Yao Xing gave him the Ximing Pavilion of the imperial court as his residence and established the Xiaoyao Garden as the place for translating Buddhist scriptures—shedding a brilliant new light on the history of Buddhism in China.

Yao Xing both revered and worried about his translator. "Master," he said, "your intelligence and understanding are matchless under heaven. If one day you should pass away, would that not cut off the dharma-seed altogether?" With that, he sent ten beautiful women to Kumarajiva and insisted he accept them. From then on, Kumarajiva no longer lived in the monastic quarters but set up a separate residence for himself. This naturally raised eyebrows among the monks, and some began to look down on him. Kumarajiva often told the assembly: "It is like a lotus growing in stinking mud—pluck the lotus, and leave the mud alone."

Some disciples, assuming the master was permitted to keep a wife, began to imitate him. Realizing how serious this had become, Kumarajiva decided he had to make his position clear. He gathered all his disciples, gave a teaching, and sat down to eat with them. The others had rice in their bowls; his held a bowl of steel needles—some two inches long, some one inch long. Before everyone's eyes, he ate the bowl of needles. The disciples were stunned. Afterward, he said to them: "If any of you wish to imitate me, first swallow a bowl of steel needles before following my example. Otherwise, devote yourselves single-mindedly to the Way, and do not rashly give rise to doubts or contempt."

From his arrival in Chang'an until his passing in the eleventh year of the Hongshi era, Kumarajiva spent about nine years engaged in translation. He translated a total of seventy-four scriptures, comprising more than 380 fascicles. His translations are noted for their elegant language and the clear, fluent expression of the principles they convey. At the peak of his activity, more than three thousand monks from all directions came to study with him. Among the works he translated are the Sūtra of Samādhi of Sitting in Meditation, the Amitābha Sūtra, the Large Prajñāpāramitā Sūtra, the Mahāprajñāpāramitā Śāstra, the Saddharma Puṇḍarīka Sūtra, the Vajracchedikā Prajñāpāramitā Sūtra, the Madhyamaka Śāstra, the Śata Śāstra, the Dvādaśadvāra Śāstra, the Satyasiddhi Śāstra, and many others.

The Lotus Sūtra was translated in the sixth year after Kumarajiva's arrival in Chang'an—corresponding to the second year of the Anxi era of Emperor An of the Eastern Jin (406 CE), or the eighth year of the Hongshi era of the Yao Qin. Kumarajiva's translation originally contained only twenty-seven chapters. About eighty years later, in the eighth year of the Chengming era of Emperor Wu of Qi, the chapter on Devadatta was added by the translators Dharmamati and Faxian, bringing the total to twenty-eight. Kumarajiva's version also contained only prose, with no verses. More than 180 years later, during the Sui dynasty, Jñānagupta translated the verses and added them in, producing the Saddharma Puṇḍarīka Sūtra that circulates today.

On the twenty-first day of the eighth lunar month in the eleventh year of the Hongshi era, Kumarajiva passed away in Chang'an. Sensing that his time had come, he gathered his disciples to say farewell. "My worldly affinities have come to an end," he told them. "I can no longer study the Dharma with you. I know my own wisdom is insufficient and my understanding dim, and I have presumptuously undertaken the work of translation. Over these years, I have translated more than three hundred fascicles of scriptures. If there is not the slightest error in what I have translated, then when my body is cremated, my tongue will not be burned." After his passing, the firewood burned out and his body turned to ashes—but his tongue alone remained whole and lifelike. This is held to prove the accuracy and fidelity of his translations.

We should be deeply grateful to this great saint of Buddhist translation, place our trust without reservation in the scriptures he rendered, and put them into practice with faith. Among Kumarajiva's disciples were Daosheng, Sengzhao, Daorong, Sengrui, Daoheng, Tanying, Huiguan, and Huiyan—known as the Eight Outstanding Disciples of the Master's Gate. The four most distinguished of them—Daosheng, Daorong, Sengrui, and Sengzhao—were honored by later generations as the Four Sages of the Master's Gate.

Main Explanation of the Sutra Text

At that time, Bodhisattva Akṣayamati rose from his seat, bared his right shoulder, joined his palms toward the Buddha, and said: "World-Honored One! By what cause and condition is Bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara called Avalokiteśvara?"

These words belong to Bodhisattva Akṣayamati and can also be regarded as the prelude to this chapter. "At that time" admits of several explanations. As previously noted, this is the twenty-fifth chapter of the Lotus Sūtra. "At that time" refers to the moment when Śākyamuni Buddha had just finished the "Wonderful Sound Bodhisattva" chapter and was about to begin the "Universal Gateway of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva" chapter. Another interpretation holds that after the assembly heard the "Wonderful Sound Bodhisattva Coming and Going" chapter, they longed to hear more about Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva's aspirational resolve, hoping it would awaken their own goodness. In this reading, "at that time" refers to that very moment of collective longing. When the "Universal Gateway" chapter is recited on its own, "at that time" can also mean the moment when the Buddha, observing his audience's capacity, saw that conditions had ripened for them to receive this teaching.

"Bodhisattva Akṣayamati" is the representative questioner of this chapter. When the World-Honored One finished the "Wonderful Sound Bodhisattva" chapter, Akṣayamati rose on behalf of the assembly to request the teaching. Akṣayamati serves as the next-in-succession bodhisattva under Samantabhadra Tathāgata, the teaching lord of the eastern land of Aśaṅkṣa. This eastern realm is a bodhisattva land—there are no śrāvakas or pratyekabuddhas there. Akṣayamati assists Samantabhadra Tathāgata in teaching and guiding the beings of that land. Given that he is a great bodhisattva of the east, why did he come to the Sahā world to hear the World-Honored One's teaching? He had been dispatched by the Tathāgata's compassionate command to assist Śākyamuni Buddha in teaching and transforming beings here. That is why he appeared at the Lotus Sūtra assembly on Vulture Peak. His role as the one who requests the teaching carries profound significance.

"Akṣayamati" means immeasurable, boundless, inexhaustible. This bodhisattva perceives that worlds are inexhaustible, beings are inexhaustible, karmic consequences are inexhaustible—and his compassionate vow to liberate beings is likewise inexhaustible. Hence he is called Akṣayamati, "Inexhaustible Meaning."

"Rose from his seat"—to request the Dharma on behalf of the assembly, Akṣayamati stood up from his seat. As the saying goes: "The mind intending to request the Dharma, therefore he rose from his seat." Taken literally, the phrase is straightforward enough. But interpreted through the Tiantai practice of contemplating the mind, its meaning becomes profound and subtle. The Tiantai contemplative explanation states: "Emptiness is the seat; to be unstained by anything within this emptiness is called rising." This bodhisattva constantly takes the emptiness of all dharmas as his seat. The emptiness of all dharmas is the gate of equality. A practitioner must transcend the two extremes of emptiness and existence to realize the true wisdom of the Middle Way. Now, at the Lotus assembly, Akṣayamati responded to the occasion by raising his question—rising from the seat of equal emptiness to manifest the gate of differentiated existence for ordinary beings. Hence "rose from his seat."

"Bared his right shoulder"—an ordained monk covers his left shoulder with the kāṣāya and exposes the right, signifying compliance with one's teacher and respectful dignity. When we pay reverence to Buddhas and bodhisattvas, or when requesting or expounding the Dharma, we drape the kāṣāya to show proper decorum. In the contemplative explanation, baring the right shoulder and covering the left represent the two wisdoms—provisional and real—corresponding to the two truths. The truth of emptiness is real wisdom, and because real wisdom cannot be captured in words and letters, it is represented by the covered left shoulder. The conventional truth is provisional wisdom—it contemplates the myriad phenomena of the universe, teaches the Dharma for the multitude, and points out the path of practice. This is the wisdom of skillful means, represented by the exposed right shoulder. It is also said that the left shoulder represents samādhi and the right shoulder represents wisdom. Baring the right shoulder means rising from samādhi to radiate the light of wisdom.

"Joined his palms toward the Buddha"—bringing both hands together while facing the Buddha. Joining palms is an Indian gesture of respect toward one's elders. Going deeper, the ten fingers correspond to the ten dharma-realms. Bringing them together into one represents the unity of the ten realms, signifying that beings and Buddha, delusion and enlightenment, are neither identical nor different.

"And made this declaration"—after displaying the proper courtesy for requesting the Dharma, Akṣayamati posed his question, hoping the Buddha would expound the deeds of Bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara. The several phrases above, from "at that time" to "and made this declaration," constitute the chapter's prelude. Within these lines, the activities of body, speech, and mind are all present: rising from the seat is bodily action; making the declaration is verbal action; joining palms toward the Buddha is mental action. With pure, undefiled body, speech, and mind, Akṣayamati reverently requested the Dharma on behalf of the assembly.

"World-Honored One! By what cause and condition is Bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara called Avalokiteśvara?" Here Akṣayamati formally poses his question. He asks the Buddha: "Bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara—by what cause and condition is he called Avalokiteśvara?"

"World-Honored One" refers to Śākyamuni Buddha. He is the teacher of the three realms and the compassionate father of all beings—supreme and peerless in both worldly and supramundane respects, revered by all. Hence he is called the World-Honored One. He possesses ten epithets: Tathāgata, Arhat, Saṃyaksaṃbuddha, Vidyācaraṇa-saṃpanna, Sugata, Lokavid, Anuttara, Puruṣa-damya-sārathi, Śāstā devamanuṣyāṇāṃ, and Buddha. These ten are established on the virtue of the Tathāgata, and "World-Honored One" is their collective designation.

Tathāgata—one who corresponds to true reality and comes according to the capacities of beings, to transform and liberate beings throughout the lands of the ten directions.

Arhat—the Buddha's merit and wisdom are complete; he is worthy of offerings from beings of the nine realms.

Saṃyaksaṃbuddha—he has attained equal, perfect enlightenment; there is nothing he does not know.

Vidyācaraṇa-saṃpanna—illuminated and liberated, his wondrous practice is complete.

Sugata—"gone well." "Gone" means severed. With his wondrous virtue and wisdom, he severs inexhaustible afflictions.

Lokavid—he possesses both worldly and supramundane wisdom; there is nothing he does not understand. Therefore he knows suffering, cuts off its accumulation, and proceeds toward bodhi.

Anuttara—"unexcelled one." The Chinese character 士 (scholar/gentleman) is actually 十 (ten) combined with 一 (one)—from ten, pushing toward one. The myriad dharmas of the world, pursued to their very bottom, never depart from this one and never exceed the correct principle. Even a jade mountain, however tall, begins from a single grain of sand. Any "gentleman" can understand worldly learning and affairs, but the World-Honored One transcends all sentient beings—he is supreme, unexcelled. Hence, Anuttara.

Puruṣa-damya-sārathi—his virtue and learning are peerless in the world. He is the great man who can tame and guide all ignorance and demonic obstacles.

Śāstā devamanuṣyāṇāṃ—the model teacher for all humans and gods.

Buddha—from Sanskrit, meaning "Enlightened One." Enlightenment has three aspects: self-enlightenment, enlightening others, and perfected enlightenment. Self-enlightenment means one has personally awakened and attained the wondrous fruit of nirvāṇa. Enlightening others means turning the truth one has realized into teaching for others to practice. When both self-enlightenment and enlightening others are complete, this is perfected enlightenment. With all three aspects complete and the myriad virtues fully present—one is called Buddha.

Here I should also introduce three further kinds of enlightenment: original, initial, and ultimate. "Original enlightenment" is the Buddha-nature we have all inherently possessed since beginningless time. "Initial enlightenment" occurs when this original enlightenment, long buried within the five aggregates, begins to surface through pure practice—as the deluded mind gradually subsides, awakening arises. "Ultimate enlightenment" is when initial enlightenment reaches its extreme and becomes one with original enlightenment—the complete, ultimate awakening of great practice, which is to say, Buddhahood.

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The Buddha told Bodhisattva Akṣayamati: "Good man, if there should be immeasurable hundreds, thousands, ten thousands, millions of beings who suffer various afflictions, and who hear of Bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara and single-heartedly recite his name, then Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva will immediately perceive the sound of their cries, and all of them will gain deliverance!"

This passage is the Buddha's general answer—the overarching outline of the Universal Gateway chapter, its very essence.

"The Buddha told Bodhisattva Akṣayamati"—in response to the question just asked, the Buddha answered him: "Good man." A gentle, sincere man of deep virtue is called a "good man"; here it refers directly to Akṣayamati.

"If there should be immeasurable hundreds, thousands, ten thousands, millions of beings who suffer various afflictions"—this identifies those whom Avalokiteśvara comes to save. The phrase describes beings so numerous they defy calculation. "Beings" translates the Sanskrit sattva, a general term for all who possess life. Master Xuanzang's later translation rendered it as "sentient beings" (有情), distinguishing them from inanimate things. The older translation "beings" (众生), by Kumārajīva, carries three layers of meaning: first, born together with all beings in the world; second, born from the convergence of myriad conditions; third, taking birth in many different places. These immeasurable beings—denizens of the hells, hungry ghosts, animals, asuras, and those born from eggs, wombs, moisture, and transformation—suffer boundless afflictions without end.

"Suffering various afflictions"—the mind troubled by worry, the body enduring pain; hence "affliction." Born into this world, we suffer the four sufferings, the eight sufferings, the seven perils, and the three poisons (to be explained later), enduring boundless suffering without a moment's rest. We simply bear it, reluctant to let go, sometimes even mistaking suffering for pleasure—entirely unaware.

"Hear of Bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara"—beings hear the name of Avalokiteśvara and recite it; Avalokiteśvara hears the cries of beings and grants them liberation from all suffering. Bodhisattva and beings hear and respond to one another, revealing the wondrous communion of stimulus and response. Because the ear perceives sound, bodhisattva and beings can resonate and merge—hence this is called "the perfect penetration of the ear-root." The word "hear" contains three truths. First, the truth of pervasion: unlike the eye, which cannot see through walls, the ear can hear sounds from a mile away. Second, the truth of completeness: the eye sees only what is before it, but the ear hears in all eight directions. Third, the truth of constancy: the eye sees only the present and cannot behold antiquity, but the ear not only hears today's news—it can also know events from many generations past and transmit the present into the future unchanged. These three are the ear-root's wondrous excellence.

"Single-heartedly recite his name; Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva will immediately perceive the sound of their cries, and all shall gain deliverance." If beings can single-heartedly recite Avalokiteśvara's name, he will instantly trace the sound of their suffering to its source, go to that place, and rescue them from distress, granting deliverance. Of these four lines, what matters most is "single-heartedly." Single-heartedness means that quality of mindfulness held within the heart—reciting Avalokiteśvara thought after thought, without the slightest admixture of other thoughts. "Recite his name" means to invoke "Namo Mahā-karuṇā Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva." The mind's recitation is fundamental. One should recite until "I am Avalokiteśvara, Avalokiteśvara is me"—the two merged into one—so that the name flows from the lips without one even noticing. That is the true voice of recitation. To uphold Avalokiteśvara's sacred name with a single heart, dissolving self-clinging through equanimity and breaking the chains of affliction through compassion—to reach this point is to shed impurity and attain purity. This is Avalokiteśvara's compassionate deliverance, the very method by which he liberates you from suffering.

If a person refuses to face a bright mirror, how can they see their own blemishes? If you cannot let go of delusive thoughts and instead recite the bodhisattva's name with a scattered mind—like turning your back to a mirror—how will you ever see your own face clearly? How will you receive the bodhisattva's response? I urge all of you: recite single-heartedly. Let each recitation resonate with the bodhisattva's mind. Hold to it constantly, without letting it slip—only then can you attain pure liberation.

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"If anyone upholds the name of Bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara, and should they fall into a great fire, the fire cannot burn them—due to the awe-inspiring spiritual power of that bodhisattva." If someone upholds this bodhisattva's name, even caught in a blazing inferno, they will not be burned. Through upholding Avalokiteśvara's sacred name, the bodhisattva's majestic virtue and spiritual power protect and bless them in unseen ways.

This passage addresses the seven perils among the "unseen benefits." The seven perils are fire, water, blades, wind, ghosts, imprisonment, and bandits. Let me first explain the peril of fire in terms of concrete events. I'd like to cite a true story that demonstrates Avalokiteśvara's miraculous response is indeed real.

In the eleventh year of the Republic of China (1922), Japan suffered a devastating earthquake. Representatives of the Chinese Buddhist Society for Disaster Relief in Japan—Bao Chengzhi, Yang Shuji, and others—traveled there to offer condolences. Their report stated that Japan lost over three hundred thousand lives. Skeletons were piled like mountains. Tokyo's Asakusa district was practically reduced to scorched earth. In the Asakusa district there was a park where even the pond water had boiled away. Inside the park stood a Guanyin hall—an old Japanese-style building divided into three rooms. Refugees hemmed in by fire on all sides had nowhere to flee; everyone rushed into the park. Gathered together, they numbered over thirty thousand. Moved by the sight of the Guanyin hall, they cried out in unison, reciting Guanyin's sacred name, begging the bodhisattva to save them from peril and suffering. Their hearts were, of course, far more devout than in ordinary times. Strangely enough, not a single refugee was injured. Even those three old rooms stand preserved to this day as a memorial of this sacred site—no visitor to Japan fails to make a pilgrimage there. From this we can see that Avalokiteśvara's compassionate response leaves no one unsaved.

From the standpoint of principle: "When the fire of anger blazes forth, it burns through the three realms; let a single thought turn toward goodness and a great coolness pervades—through the bodhisattva's awe-inspiring power of patience." These words mean that the fire of anger can consume the three realms, destroying our merit and dharma-treasure. Yet if in a single thought we turn toward goodness, it transforms into the cool water of a clear pond and the fire of anger subsides at once. This comes about through the bodhisattva's awe-inspiring virtue and spiritual power of patience.

Where does the fire of anger come from? It does not arise from outside—it comes from our own grasping and arrogance. Once, a man said to the renowned Master Pan-gui: "I've long heard your great name. They say you can cure all kinds of ailments! I have a naturally hot temper—I can't get three sentences into a conversation with anyone before I'm scowling and glaring. Could you give me a prescription for this inborn affliction?"

The master replied: "My, that's a strange-sounding ailment. I've treated many people, but never once heard of an inborn one. How fascinating! This old monk has never seen what a hot temper looks like. Could you produce this hot temper and show it to me?"

The man was thoroughly flustered. "Master! That's impossible! How could anyone produce such a thing?"

"You see," said the master, "I asked you to produce it and you can't. That should tell you your irascibility isn't inborn at all. It arises from your excessive self-clinging and the blazing fire of anger."

The man was struck dumb. Something clicked. And he mended his hot temper from then on.

From this exchange we can see that anger too is a fire. To control the fire of anger, reciting Avalokiteśvara's sacred name is one of the best methods. It grants you concentration, and through cultivating patience, it checks the spread of anger's flames.

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"If one is carried away by great water and recites that bodhisattva's name, one shall reach a shallow place." This is the second of the seven perils—the peril of water. Should someone be swept away by floodwaters, carried into the depths, their life in danger—if they can single-heartedly recite the bodhisattva's sacred name, they will immediately drift to shallows, escaping the threat of drowning.

During the Song dynasty, there was a Mr. Xu who made his living as a private tutor. His mother, née Cheng, was a devout Buddhist who devoted herself to reciting Guanyin's sacred name.

One day, Mr. Xu brought two young boys to the city where he taught, and they sat in on his classes. As the New Year approached, he set off with them to bring them home for the holiday. Boats were scarce and passengers many, so they had to take a night ferry. Midway across the river the boat struck a hidden reef. The waves were high, the hull was unstable, and water began seeping in. On a dark, starless night it looked as if everyone aboard would be swallowed by the waves.

Mr. Xu looked at the two boys beside him, thought of his elderly mother at home, and felt a deep anxiety. Suddenly he recalled how his mother used to recite the holy name of Guanyin, so he began to chant the Bodhisattva's name with sincere devotion. A moment later the hull steadied. All the passengers caught sight of a tall mulberry tree on the riverbank, and the boat drifted with the current into shallower water. Together they managed to tie the boat to the tree.

At dawn the next morning, as the light grew, they looked again and saw that the great mulberry tree from the night before was gone, while the boat rested on a sandbar. They knew then that they had been saved by Guanyin Bodhisattva.

As Mr. Xu neared home, he saw his mother Cheng smiling at the door as she waited for him. Surprised, he asked why, and she said: "Last night I dreamed that you ran into disaster on the river. Startled, I quickly recited the holy name of Guanyin. Then I saw an old man go and lead you off the boat, and I knew you would certainly come home safely." Mr. Xu told her what had happened, and they understood that Guanyin Bodhisattva had appeared to rescue them.

On the level of events, this shows that Guanyin Bodhisattva can hear the cries of beings in distress and save them from calamity. On the level of principle, there is a deeper meaning. Water here is a metaphor for greed: when the waters of greed rise, they can drown the world. Drifting on the currents of desire with no place to rest, if one can single-mindedly chant the name of Guanyin Bodhisattva, then with a single thought of contentment the sea of karma naturally dries up.

The word "water" doesn't only mean river water; it can also be taken as the great sea. Examined from the standpoint of principle: we are drifting in the great sea of birth and death. Clinging to life and fearing death are the common lot of human beings. Sentient beings in particular are sunk in the waters of love and desire, and it is this water of love and desire that most easily leads people onto the path of delusion. In this world of the five turbidities, all kinds of love and desire ceaselessly tempt us. How many have been ruined in body and reputation, families broken apart, lives lost on account of it?

The Sutra of Forty-Two Sections says: "What makes people foolish and deluded is love and desire." Where, then, does love and desire arise? It arises from a mind of fondness. Those who drown in the whirlpool of love and desire mostly do so because of a strong, stubborn self-love. If, at that moment, one recites the holy name of the Bodhisattva and arouses a single thought of contentment, compassion, and equanimity—if one can soften that intense self-love and let go of "greedy love"—then the light of one's mind becomes like a bright mirror, equal and without discrimination, and one can drift from the terrifying waves of the great sea onto the shallows.

In the time of the Buddha, he went on alms round to a village. There lived there an elder named Yinyue, a man of great wealth but with no children—a constant source of worry, for as the saying goes, "Forty and still without a son, one grinds away for the rest of one's life." Yet on that day four great joys gathered for him. What were they? First, his wife gave birth to a baby boy. Second, the horse he kept gave birth to a divine foal. Third, the ship he had sent out to gather treasure on the sea returned with a full cargo. Fourth, the king, hearing of his generosity, sent an official to bestow on him a jade seal. Delighted at these four blessings, the elder held a great banquet—hundred tables laid out—offered thanks to the gods, fulfilled his vows, and respectfully invited the Buddha and his disciples to receive his offering. The Buddha then spoke this verse:

Today, O elder, blessings fill your life; Unmatched joy has come to you all at once. The causes of form and food and other things Have ripened fully, fourfold, as their due— A meeting rare in a thousand ages, Unparalleled in this human world. The sages and the worthy all revere you: Well done, O elder, to receive such blessings! As in spring one sows, in autumn one reaps: First the act, then the reward.

The elder, overjoyed at the verse, prepared a great offering for the Buddha and his disciples.

At that time a non-Buddhist teacher named Purana Kassapa, seeing the Buddha receive such a magnificent offering, was filled with greed and jealousy. He followed the Buddha back to the monastery and said to him: "Gautama" (a common way of addressing the Buddha)—"people say you have a mind of equality, compassion, sympathetic joy, and relinquishment. Now please teach me that verse you spoke at the elder's house, so that I too may receive a great offering."

The Buddha, with his wisdom eye, saw that the man's deluded mind was heavy, his face full of greed. He knew that learning this verse would bring the man no offerings, only suffering. Gently he said: "If you want offerings, I'll gladly teach you a few other verses. Don't insist on that one." The non-Buddhist took it as stinginess and began to curse the Buddha: "Just teach it to me! Whether or not I get offerings is my own affair." The Buddha, knowing that his past karma was inescapable, taught him the verse in detail. But the man was utterly foolish—months went by and still he couldn't memorize it. When at last he had the verse by heart and was halfway to the elder's house, a fierce wind suddenly rose, a bridge collapsed, and he had to stop. More than half a month passed before he could go on.

Meanwhile, disaster had struck the elder's household. A great fire had burned his estate to the ground; the divine foal had perished in the flames; the treasure ship, battered by the fierce wind half a month before, had been swallowed by the sea along with people and cargo, leaving the family to compensate the victims' relatives; and his precious infant son had sickened and died. Stricken, the elder let fall words of complaint. Word reached the king, who demanded the jade seal back. Just as the elder was wracked with grief, anger, and sorrow, the non-Buddhist Purana came to visit. After exchanging greetings, he began to recite the verse. Because of his poor pronunciation, he rendered "blessings fill your life" (福) as "disasters fill your life" (祸), and "the sages and the worthy all revere you" (敬服) as "the sages and the worthy are all startled and dismayed" (惊服). The whole verse thus came across as gloating mockery. The elder, furious, called the household servants, who beat the man black and blue and drove him out of the village. The non-Buddhist, resentful at such unfairness, thought: "Gautama spoke the verse and received a great offering, yet this is how I'm treated!" With nowhere else to go, he limped away.

At that time the Buddha was teaching at the Deer Park monastery. His disciples, hearing what had happened, asked him about it, and the Buddha explained the cause and effect to the assembly.

Long ago, there was a king who came to the throne young, full of benevolence, who loved his people. One afternoon, as he dozed, a parrot alighted by the window and sang softly, its notes most pleasing. The half-asleep king heard the sound, and his body and mind relaxed. On waking, he ordered his attendants to chase and catch the bird. They ran five miles before bringing it back, and the parrot was kept in a golden cage, fed delicacies, and greatly beloved.

A poisonous owl, watching all this, grew jealous and decided to try the same. While the king napped, the owl lifted its head and sang—but its voice was harsh, and it startled the king awake. The king ordered it pursued. Assuming it would be treated like the parrot, the owl neither flew nor ran, only going half a mile before being caught. Seeing it was a poisonous owl, the king ordered it burned to death.

In middle age the king took a new consort. She believed in heterodox teachings, and the king, turning from the right path to the wrong, became enslaved by wine and women, neglected state affairs, and brutally oppressed his people. Before long he lost his throne and became a fugitive.

The king in that life was none other than elder Yinyue. Because in his previous life as a young man he had been benevolent and generous, the four blessings gathered in this life; but in middle age, having oppressed the people and shown contempt for the Three Jewels, he reaped suffering in return. The parrot was my own previous life, and the poisonous owl was the non-Buddhist Purana.

From the causes and effects of this story we can draw a lesson: do not be endlessly greedy, and do not, without measuring your own virtue and conduct, seek rewards you have not earned. If one is consumed by greed and stubbornly demands offerings, one will, like Purana, bring disaster upon oneself. What matters most is one's own moral character and cultivation. With genuine cultivation, one is naturally admired by others and receives offerings. Such things cannot be forced.

Living in this world of the five turbidities, nearly all of us are drifting in the sea of love and desire. The waters already nearly drown us. If we remain stubbornly deluded, with self-cherishing deep and unyielding, blind to everything, unable to turn back, then truly it is pitiable. To drift from this great sea of greed to the shallows, apart from single-mindedly reciting the holy name of Guanyin Bodhisattva and seeking the Bodhisattva's protection, there is no easy way of rescue.

"If there are hundreds of thousands of myriads of millions of beings who, seeking gold, silver, lapis lazuli, mother-of-pearl, agate, coral, amber, pearls, and other treasures, set out upon the great sea, and suppose a black wind should blow their ship and cast them into the land of the rakshasa demons; if among them there is even one person who utters the name of Guanyin Bodhisattva, all of them will be saved from the danger of the rakshasas."

This passage treats the third of the seven disasters—the disaster of wind, also called the disaster of the rakshasas. As for wind disasters, everyone has felt something of the terror of typhoons: the gale howls, sand and stones fly, houses topple, people are hurt, and the damage is grave. It is a natural calamity that even modern science cannot prevent. We can only heighten our vigilance, prepare in advance, and reduce the loss.

Suppose hundreds of thousands of myriads of millions of people, seeking the seven treasures—gold, silver, lapis lazuli, mother-of-pearl, agate, coral, amber, and pearls—board a ship and set out on the great sea (most of these treasures are produced in the sea; mother-of-pearl is a kind of precious stone). If, unluckily, they encounter a black wind halfway (according to old accounts, when a ship was sailing the sea, the sky would suddenly darken with clouds; the wind would rise violently, rain would pour down and flood the ship; the ship would sink or shatter, and the great wind would carry it to a man-eating island—such was the "black wind"), this black wind blows their ship and it drifts to the land of the rakshasa demons.

(The rakshasas, by tradition, are man-eating ghosts that dwell on islands in the sea. I have heard that in former times there was such an island; when a ship was blown near it by wind, the crew had to plug both their ears. Otherwise the bewitching music drifting from the island would cause those who heard it to dance rapturously, lose their senses, and leap into the sea.)

The treasure-seekers, having met the black wind and arrived at the rakshasa land—if even one among them takes the lead in reciting the name of Guanyin Bodhisattva, all of them can escape the disaster.

The Records of Mount Putuo record: during the reign of Emperor Huizong of the Song dynasty, there was an official of the Ministry of Revenue named Liu Da who, together with a great minister, had been sent by Huizong on a mission to Goryeo (present-day Korea). On the return voyage, as they neared a few small islands, dark clouds suddenly gathered, the bright moon lost its light, and for four days and four nights they could not see the slightest glimmer; the ship lost its bearings. Someone among them proposed that they all devoutly recite the holy name of Guanyin. Before long a brilliant light filled the sky, as bright as day, and guided by this light they finally escaped the danger.

The records also speak of the second year of Mingzhen during the Later Liang of the Five Dynasties period. By that time Chinese Buddhism had already been introduced to Japan during the Tang dynasty, and many Japanese monastics had come to China to seek the Dharma, find teachers, and inquire into the Way. Among them was a monk who crossed the distant seas, sailing to our great country of China to study the Buddhadharma. He took up residence at Tiantong Monastery in Zhejiang to study Chan. Later, when he wished to return to Japan, he saw a sacred image of the Great Being Guanyin in the monastery—so pure and majestic—and his heart was filled with admiration. He had originally wanted to discuss with the monastery's abbot the matter of taking it back to Japan for veneration, but feared that permission would not be granted, and so he took it without asking. He thought that since his motive was good—enabling the people of Japan to behold the holy image and give rise to faith—such an act surely would not violate the precept against taking what is not given in the Buddha's code of precepts. So he made up his mind and secretly took the sacred image.

Having obtained this magnificent sacred image, the monk did not dare linger on the mountain. He packed his things at once, set out on his journey, and bought passage on a ship eastbound, preparing to return to Japan. Strangely, however, no sooner had the ship set out than it met with a black wind. For three days and three nights the ship was unable to leave the area, only going round and round at a distance from Mount Putuo. The monk, terrified, knelt before the Bodhisattva and prayed: "Great Being! Your disciple saw that the Bodhisattva's sacred image was so majestic, and that in my country the Buddhadharma is not yet widespread and sacred images are few. I wished to invite the Bodhisattva back to Japan for veneration. If the sentient beings of my country are not yet fated to see you at this time, then wherever the ship points, I shall go there and establish a monastery for your veneration."

When the prayer was finished, the ship sailed peacefully to Purple Bamboo Rock of Mount Putuo and went no further. At that time, Mount Putuo was still a wild, uninhabited island, and the Japanese monk there established a temple and propagated the Dharma. This is the origin of the founding of Mount Putuo. Around the fifteenth or sixteenth year of the Republic, I once made a pilgrimage to Mount Putuo. The mountain stretches twelve li from north to south and six and a half li from east to west. There are about two hundred and eighty large and small temples and hermitages on the mountain. Every year, from February to September, pilgrims and worshippers come in an endless stream, with an average of around twenty thousand people a day. From this we can see how vast is the scope of Guanyin Bodhisattva's deliverance of beings.

To explain this passage of the sutra in terms of principle: the seven treasures such as gold and silver represent the seven dharma treasures, meaning the truth. Because one wishes to seek the seven dharma treasures of truth, one enters the great sea of the Buddhist Dharma. Because one's wisdom is insufficient, one cannot fulfill one's wishes, and the energy of ignorance arises (the black wind), which stirs and disturbs the controlling power of samadhi (blowing the ship), gradually producing the dark-faced form impermanence takes, so that one becomes a ghost-like being (drifting to the land of the rakshasa demons). If one can, in the midst of all evils, arouse a single thought of turning the light back toward what is good, and with the power of precepts, samadhi, and wisdom break through the wind of ignorance and affliction, then one can level the waves of the three poisons of greed, hatred, and delusion (if one can recite the name of Guanyin, one can be saved from the danger of the rakshasas). It is most fitting to use the visible seven treasures as a metaphor for the spiritual seven treasures of the holy ones. What are the seven dharma treasures?

1. The treasure of faith. The Treatise on the Perfection of Wisdom says: "The Buddhadharma is like the great sea; only faith can enter it." If a student of Buddhism lacks sincere faith, then they cannot obtain the precious treasures within, and cannot cross the great sea of the Buddhadharma.

2. The treasure of progress. "Progress" means advancing with vigor and determination. The Buddha-path is long; without diligence, no benefit can be gained.

3. The treasure of precepts. Precepts have the function of preventing wrong and stopping evil. Strictly upholding the precepts established by the Buddha, keeping one's conduct upright, never breaking them, and observing all the rules of both worldly and supramundane life—this is the treasure of precepts. If one does not follow the rules, one will give oneself over to indulgence; indulgence naturally leads to downfall, and one will commit all manner of improper acts. Therefore the precepts are the treasure that is the necessary rule of all right living.

4. The treasure of hearing. Hearing is the first step of knowing. If a person does not seek to learn and does not receive teaching, he is no different from a bird or beast. Only by hearing the teachings can one know the principles and practice the Way. To hear the teaching, one must be open-minded, accept the guidance of others, and then, in accordance with the teachings, put them into practice. Only then can one obtain real and lasting benefit. This refers to the threefold wisdom of hearing, contemplating, and cultivating.

5. Generosity (Dāna) Treasure: In Buddhism, loving-kindness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity are known as the Four Immeasurables. When walking the bodhisattva path, generosity is the most essential of these. One gives to all sentient beings with a joyful heart, like the warm sun shining across the earth—bathing everything without partiality or expectation of repayment. Only then can one truly embody the four immeasurables, making the "generosity" among them genuinely boundless.

6. Wisdom Treasure: The wisdom treasure is wisdom itself, also called the treasure of samādhi and wisdom. Meditative concentration gathers the mind and keeps it from restless wandering; wisdom illuminates all phenomena and dispels erroneous views. Wisdom is like our own two eyes—without the eyes of wisdom, we stumble about blindly, often abandoning light to rush headlong into darkness, suffering endless harm.

7. Conscience Treasure: "Conscience" here refers to a sense of shame and moral self-reflection. As the Abhidharma states: "Shame takes aversion to one's own wrongdoings as its essence; regret takes aversion to wrongdoings as perceived by others as its essence." If a Buddhist lacks this sense of shame and conscience, they cannot enter the path. There is nothing more beautiful than a heart that feels shame for its own faults. A person who knows no shame isn't even qualified to be an upright, honorable human being—let alone to become a Buddha or a patriarch of the tradition.

I remember a neighbor who was immensely wealthy but childless, and desperately wanted to adopt a son. His sworn brother was an honest, kindhearted man with four children, aged ten down to three. Knowing how deeply the wealthy man longed for a child, the brother decided to let him raise one of his sons. On an auspicious day, the wealthy man bought four stalks of sugarcane and brought them to his sworn brother's home, dividing them equally among the children. Just as they were happily munching away, the wealthy man caught them off guard and slapped each one across the face, shouting: "You ill-mannered little brats! Uncle buys you sugarcane and you can't even say thank you?" Some of the children kept crying even as they gnawed on, but the second child shed not a single tear. His little face flushed red. He threw his sugarcane to the ground and said: "Uncle! What terrible crime did we commit to deserve a slap for eating one stalk of sugarcane? Is that the price of a single piece of sugarcane?" With that, he turned and walked into the inner room without looking back. The wealthy man knew immediately he had to adopt this child—a young boy with such a powerful sense of shame would surely grow into someone of great character.

In summary:

• Faith (xin) is the confidence to resolutely uphold the true Dharma—the provisions for attaining Buddhahood.
• Diligence (jin) is zeal for the path to Buddhahood, pressing forward without the slightest retreat.
• Precepts (jie) are the rules of discipline. They guard against transgressions of body, speech, and mind, keeping one far from killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, and false speech—the foundation for attaining Buddhahood.
• Hearing (wen) means learning through listening to the teachings and practicing accordingly, enabling one to cultivate the three kinds of wisdom.
• Joyful giving (xishe) enables one to walk the bodhisattva path, bringing joy to sentient beings and relieving their suffering.
• Samādhi and wisdom (dinghui) belong to the categories of śamatha and vipaśyanā—stillness and insight. They subdue wandering thoughts and illuminate the dark, tangled thickets of confusion, and so they too are provisions for Buddhahood.
• Only with a sense of shame and conscience can one seek the supreme path, cut through ignorance, and attain awakening.

These seven are called the Seven Holy Treasures. Across the various sutras, there are many different interpretations of this teaching. But when you set out to obtain these seven holy treasures and enter the path of practice, if a sudden dark wind blows, that dark wind is the bewildering wind of ignorance and affliction—or the vicious wind of all demonic obstacles. Without unshakable faith, you begin to doubt; diligence gives way to lethargy; the precepts are violated as recklessness takes hold. You become grasping instead of generous, deluded instead of wise, shameless instead of conscience-stricken. The mind that could have entered the great path is driven into stormy seas, drifting helplessly to the realm of the rākṣasa demons.

Some say this dark wind is a metaphor for the wind of wealth. Countless people cannot pass the test of money. Have you heard this story? It's said that when the Monkey King (Sun Wukong) went to borrow the Banana Fan from the Eighth Precious Princess, he was blocked along the way by the Fire Boy. Luckily, the princess waved her fan, and Sun Wukong was blown beyond the thirty-three heavens, only stopping when he clutched fast to a heavenly pillar. Though this is a legendary tale, think about it carefully: what are all those countless people in the world rushing around day and night for? —Livelihood, money. From high-ranking officials and nobles down to street vendors and peddlers, few are not blinded by the sight of profit. Sun Wukong is just like our minds—a single deluded thought can carry us farther than thirty-three heavens. And when profit is right before us, the moment greed arises, it's as if the princess's fan has swept us away. People will risk their very lives, dazed and confused, scrambling for fame and fortune after a single gust of this dark wind of money!

Friends, quiet your minds and reflect honestly: can you withstand the gusting "wind of money"?

Rākṣasas are among the thirty-six demon kings of Buddhist cosmology. It's said that male rākṣasas have black bodies, red hair, and green eyes—hideous beyond words—while female rākṣasas are incomparably beautiful. But both are blood-drinking demons who threaten the lives of sentient beings. Still, you needn't be terrified of encountering some green-faced, fanged rākṣasa. In fact, there may be times when we ourselves have become a "rākṣasa" without realizing it. After hearing the following story, you can judge for yourself whether you've truly been a rākṣasa without knowing it.

During the Tang Dynasty, a prime minister retired to Xiangyang and went to visit Chan Master Daotong at Purple Cloud Mountain in Tongzhou. The master was lecturing on the Universal Gateway Chapter. When he reached the passage "If a dark wind blows their boat, casting it into the rākṣasa demon realm," the prime minister suddenly spoke up: "Master, in my view, the Buddhist scriptures are nothing but lies—not a single true word. What they describe doesn't match reality. Take this passage you just read: who can prove anyone has ever actually seen a rākṣasa or encountered a dark wind?"

The master knew full well who he was. He pointed a finger and barked: "You worthless lout! You can't even read a single character, and you dare come here spouting nonsense?" Seeing the master treat him so unceremoniously, the prime minister was incensed—smoke practically pouring from his seven orifices, teeth clenched. You're just a blind, penniless monk, he thought. How dare you call me a lout and say I'm illiterate? You have no respect for my position as prime minister! He wanted nothing more than to draw his sword and cut off the master's head.

The master smiled, held up a mirror to the prime minister's face, and said: "This right here is the reality of being blown by a dark wind into the rākṣasa demon realm." The prime minister's fury turned to shame. He hurriedly knelt down and begged forgiveness: "I now deeply understand my error in slandering the Dharma. I ask all Buddhas, bodhisattvas, and you, Master, to forgive my failings. Now I see that the rākṣasa demon is nothing but a manifestation of one's own mind—why seek for rākṣasas anywhere else?"

"All dharmas are mind-only"—and it's not just rākṣasas that the mind manifests. Even the aspiration to become a Buddha or a patriarch arises from a single wholesome thought. If greed arises, we wear the face of a hungry ghost. If delusion arises, we wear the face of an animal. The ten realms of existence are all contained within this single mind—not just the rākṣasa realm. Master Daotong seized the moment to give the prime minister further instruction. After hearing this explanation, the prime minister not only understood the meaning of the sutra passage but grew even more deeply respectful of the master. This was truly a teacher most skilled in expounding the Dharma. Had he offered any other explanation, it's an open question whether the prime minister would have understood, let alone believed and accepted it. Teaching in this way not only led to true understanding but also to deep, abiding faith!

Friends, now that you know all dharmas turn on this single mind, you must constantly guard against the mind's easy propensity for greed, anger, and delusion. Use this mind skillfully as the pivot for attaining Buddhahood; don't let the three poisons fill it.

It is for this reason that she is named Guanyin.

When the Buddha explained to Inexhaustible Intention the causes and conditions behind Guanyin Bodhisattva's name, he dispelled the doubts in sentient beings' hearts and deepened their faith, so that their recitation of the Bodhisattva's name became all the more sincere and earnest. And so the Buddha concluded: "For these reasons, she is called Guanyin."

If someone is about to be killed and calls out the name of Guanyin Bodhisattva, the blades and clubs wielded against them will shatter into pieces, and they will be freed.

This is the fourth difficulty: the difficulty of blades and clubs. Blades are edged weapons that can sever life; clubs are sticks used to beat people, causing anything from minor injury to death. In ancient times, violating state law meant facing official punishment. A death sentence meant beheading; lesser offenses might mean beatings or the cangue—all falling under the category of club punishment. To suffer blade or club punishment is to suffer a disaster—something everyone fears and tries to avoid. If, unfortunately, you break the law, are attacked by someone, or are beaten by bandits, and at that critical, life-or-death moment you can single-mindedly call upon the name of Guanyin Bodhisattva, then the blades and clubs aimed at you will shatter into pieces because of your recitation, and your life will be spared.

The word "immediately" (xun) has two interpretations: First, it means very quickly, or right away. Second, in ancient China, eight chi equaled one xun—here it could mean eight fen or eight cun. According to this second reading, the passage demonstrates the inconceivable power of Guanyin Bodhisattva's spiritual response. Think about it: when a blade or club breaks, the pieces should be of uneven lengths. How could every piece be exactly the same length? What else could this be but the power of the Bodhisattva's majestic virtue?

During the Tang Dynasty, there was a Chan master named Zhijue. Before his ordination, he had served as a prefect. During his tenure, his district was struck by an unprecedented famine. The people were so desperate they had eaten every scrap of bark and grass root, suffering to an extreme degree. Yet the government granaries held vast stores of grain. The state's reserves were meant for famine relief, but using them required prior approval from the emperor. The prefect feared that the process of petitioning would take too long—and by the time the imperial decree arrived, the people would have starved to death. So, moved by compassion, he released the grain to feed the people first, then reported to the emperor afterward. His intention was pure, but without the emperor's permission, he had broken the law. The emperor stripped him of his post and sent him to the capital for execution. But this prefect was an honest official of long-standing reputation, and the emperor knew his character. So when the execution was to take place, the emperor specially instructed the executioner to note the prefect's words and demeanor.

The prefect naturally knew he had broken the law, but he had acted to save the starving people, deliberately risking his life and long since putting thoughts of life and death aside. So when he faced execution, he showed not the slightest sign of distress. Instead he said joyfully: "I offer this one life for the benefit of all sentient beings!" The executioner found this remarkable. He stayed his hand and reported it to the emperor. The emperor immediately summoned the prefect and asked why he had done this. He answered straightforwardly: "No other reason than this—I simply could not bear to see the people suffer from hunger. It was a single impulse of compassion." Recognizing his goodness, the emperor pardoned his crime.

After this ordeal, the prefect felt that worldly life held no further meaning, so he resolved to leave home and ordain. His Dharma name was Zhijue. From this we can see: if a person who is about to be killed can bring forth even a single thought of goodness or compassion, aligning their heart with the Bodhisattva's, they can receive the Bodhisattva's deliverance and escape the disaster of blades and clubs.

So much for tangible blades and clubs. Now let's speak of the intangible ones, from the perspective of principle. These intangible blades and clubs are the clubs of arrogance, anger, and hostility, and the knives of jealousy. Arrogance is puffing oneself up; pride is lording oneself over others. Anger is the glaring eye; hostility is the raging heart. This mind of arrogance, anger, and hostility is a club that beats people. Boasting of one's own abilities, slandering others, envying those who are superior, or using cutting words—these are the knives that kill. These intangible blades and clubs of hostility, arrogance, jealousy, and harsh speech will destroy our Dharma body and the life of our wisdom. If someone uses these to oppress us and we respond with compassion, then their blades and clubs are effectively shattered—powerless to do harm. And if we ourselves habitually wield these blades and clubs against others, then from this moment on, we should turn the light inward, constantly examining and reflecting on ourselves, so that these intangible weapons don't end up destroying our own life of wisdom.

In Jiangdu, Jiangsu, there lived an old woman named Wang. She had been vegetarian and practicing Buddhism since her youth, with deep devotion to Guanyin Bodhisattva. At eighteen, she married Liu Wenzao and bore three sons and a daughter. After her husband died, she raised the children alone, taking in washing and cooking for others. She endured every hardship to bring them up, and eventually found a wife for her eldest son—a woman named Huo. Huo had been spoiled since childhood and came from a wealthy family. After entering the Liu household, she was arrogant and overbearing, showing no respect for her elders and constantly bullying Wang. From the moment she rose in the morning, she would make snide, veiled remarks; otherwise, she'd spend her days gossiping and running about, neglecting her duties as a daughter-in-law entirely. Wang never took the slightest offense. Instead, she took Guanyin's compassionate heart as her own, speaking to Huo gently, offering praise and encouragement, treating her with the utmost respect.

One day, a neighbor who couldn't stand it any longer said to old Mrs. Wang: "Your daughter-in-law—how dare she treat you so shamefully?"

"My daughter-in-law is a very good woman. There's nothing disrespectful about her behavior at all!"

Huo had just returned from visiting neighbors and overheard these words from outside the room. Her conscience was suddenly stirred. She felt deeply ashamed and filled with regret. From that day on, her blade-and-club-like mind was broken by Wang's gentle, skillful means. Where did such patience come from? It arose from a single thought of impartial, great compassion.

In the Lotus Sutra, there is a bodhisattva named Never Disrespectful, who serves as a fine example for us. When he was practicing the bodhisattva path, he bowed to everyone he met, always saying: "I would not dare disrespect you. You will all become Buddhas." Even if people insulted him or threw tiles, gravel, and stones at him, he would still call out: "I would not dare disrespect you. You will all become Buddhas." Because he was always saying this, people nicknamed him "Never Disrespectful." The phrase "you will all become Buddhas" is a genuine honoring of each person's inherent dignity—not something said in jest. When you respect others' inherent worth, arrogant and hostile thoughts simply don't arise toward them. People who are quick to anger and jealousy suffer from the very failure to respect others' worth. Even though people hurled blades, clubs, tiles, and stones at Never Disrespectful Bodhisattva, because of his respect for every person, all who encountered him were ultimately moved by his example and took refuge in Buddhism. As the old saying goes: "Softness overcomes hardness"—and it is perfectly true.

This single thought of kindness is the mind of equality. The mind of equal compassion is Guanyin's own heart. With such a heart, how could anyone impose their blades and clubs upon you? With this mind of impartial great compassion, willingly giving everything you have—even your life—for all sentient beings, the suffering of birth and death becomes, in your eyes, truly nothing at all.

"'Equal Great Compassion' is the path we walk, and it alone is the eternal right way. For its sake, we should gladly offer up our lives. Remember, with a heart of compassion and equality, we can overcome every danger. Though blades and staves may wound and kill, a compassionate heart can turn conflict into peace. Before a person of gentleness and patience, even the fiercest weapon loses all its force. So let each barrier fall away, let the fires of anger and jealousy in the heart be quenched, let the sword of the tongue be put down. Step back and reflect on the saying, 'the soft overcomes the hard,' and the mind settles into natural ease. This is the 'path of liberation.'

If in the three-thousand-fold world the whole land were filled with yakshas and rakshasas who wished to come and torment people, those evil ghosts would not even dare to look upon them with hostile eyes upon hearing them call the name of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva, much less cause them harm. Among the seven difficulties, this is the fifth: the difficulty of evil ghosts. Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva can not only save sentient beings from the difficulties of water, fire, and wind, but can also save them from the difficulty of evil ghosts. Read from the surface, this passage holds nothing especially profound. Its meaning is simply this: suppose that in the three-thousand-fold world there were many yakshas and rakshasas constantly coming to disturb people. As long as the victim single-mindedly calls the holy name of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva, the rakshasas and yakshas, upon hearing that holy name, would not dare to look upon that person with hostile eyes, let alone kill them.

A few points in the passage need brief explanation. The 'three-thousand-fold world' means the cosmos. If we take our earth, where human beings now live, as one small world, then a thousand such small worlds combined make one small-thousand-fold world. A thousand small-thousand-fold worlds combined make one middle-thousand-fold world, and a thousand middle-thousand-fold worlds combined make one great-thousand-fold world. The great-thousand-fold world, the middle-thousand-fold world, and the small-thousand-fold world together are called the three-thousand-fold world. It simply indicates the vastness and breadth of lands. Setting it as the teaching region of one Buddha is just giving concrete form to an abstract concept; there's no need to insist on a fixed number. Is the three-thousand-fold world really so vast and distant? From the deeper meaning, it isn't as remote and boundless as we imagine. Think about it: the mind of our deluded thoughts, in a single instant, undergoes three thousand transformations—hence it's called the 'mind-monkey.' Once a deluded thought arises, it's enough to leap across the three-thousand-fold world. If you reflect carefully, do you still feel it's out of reach?

'Yaksha' is a Sanskrit word meaning 'swift-footed.' They can fly not only over land but through the air. 'Rakshasa,' as mentioned before, is a man-eating ghost, translated into Chinese as 'fearful' or 'violent evil ghost.' Both belong to the class of ghosts and can fly tens of millions of miles in the blink of an eye. Mention of yakshas and rakshasas inevitably calls to mind the image of green-faced, fang-toothed ghosts—enough to make one's hair stand on end and teeth chatter. But you needn't conjure such images or tremble with fear. Perhaps you've already suffered the harassment of 'yakshas and rakshasas,' or perhaps you yourself are an incarnation of a rakshasa or yaksha. From the perspective of harming the world and poisoning people, our world is filled with yakshas and rakshasas. Have you not seen the temptations of women, wealth, and fame all around? Have you not seen how many people lose their lives for these things, their families ruined and loved ones scattered? Are these not yakshas and rakshasas? Everything in the world that tempts us is a yaksha or rakshasa—they're beyond counting! Yet countless people willingly fall prey. Some are in the midst of it without even knowing it, still trying to act tough, looking for the chance to find the green-faced, fang-toothed 'evil ghosts.' Truly pitiful and lamentable.

Where do these temptations of yakshas and rakshasas arise? Upon investigation, they arise from our own afflictions and deluded thoughts. Although afflictions are said to number eighty-four thousand, in reality the count may be even greater. A person who doesn't study the Buddhadharma, whose deluded thoughts arise without awareness, whose whole mind is filled with thoughts of women, money, and power, who day and night is tempted by these demons—this is like bandits in a country who can disturb that country. The commander of this army of a million bandits is the single thought of self-grasping. To expel the million demons of affliction, one must call the holy name of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva to be free from their harm.

Speaking of 'demons,' let me take this opportunity to introduce the types of demons. Commonly there are the four demons and the ten demons. First, the four demons:

1. The Demon of the Five Aggregates: Also translated as the five skandhas—form, feeling, perception, mental formations, and consciousness. Our physical body is formed by the accumulation of these five. Because of them, we give rise to delusion and create karma. Since the five aggregates are one of the causes that lead us to create karma, they're called 'demons.'

2. The Demon of the Three Poisons: Because of a single thought of greed or hatred, people do evil and go against reason and human feeling. They can make people lost in principles and matters, confusing right and wrong, and are therefore also called 'demons.'

3. The Demon of Death: As the saying goes, 'Human life is impermanent, in a single breath.' When that breath doesn't return, no matter how great your ability to call upon heaven and rain or move mountains and overturn seas, it can't be exercised. Human lifespan is fixed; it can't possibly let you live a hundred years and never die. In youth, one doesn't understand to study the Buddha and do good. Year after year, one rolls about in the fields of fame and profit. Once one awakens and turns back, one has already reached the final station of life, calling out in vain. Therefore death is also a demon.

4. The Heavenly Demon: Though one has heavenly blessings, one lacks heavenly virtue. The mind isn't upright, deluding and bewitching the masses, obstructing people from cultivating wholesome deeds. Therefore it's called the heavenly demon.

These four are the four demons. Added to them are:

5. The Demon of Karma: We create karma unceasingly, life after life. The evil people in the world far outnumber the good. Even if in this life we do no evil, it's hard to say that in many past lives we did no evil. Suppose the seed of evil karma from one past life ripens and appears in the present; then it's certain to obstruct the path. A verse says: 'Even after a thousand myriads of kalpas, the karma you have created is not lost. When conditions and causes meet, the fruits you experience are of your own making.' Therefore karma is a demon.

6. The Demon of the Mind: The mind gives rise to arrogance, relying on one's own abilities and looking down on others, unwilling to ask questions humbly. In everything one thinks oneself right, unwilling to listen to others' teaching—this is the demon of the mind.

7. The Demon of Wholesome Roots: Having a little wholesome root, one settles where one stands, unwilling to advance. Or having done a small good deed, one becomes self-satisfied, unwilling to give widely. This is the demon of wholesome roots.

8. The Demon of Samadhi: Samadhi means concentration. Cultivating meditation is itself diligent practice, but if one studies a little sitting meditation or gains a small accomplishment, one then considers oneself unmatched, no longer applying the mind to progress. Or, not knowing the methods of meditation, one practices blindly and recklessly. This too is a demon.

9. The Demon of Spiritual Friends: Having vast learning, one is unwilling to teach others or guide juniors, like having good medicine but refusing to save people. Therefore it's a demon.

10. The Demon of Bodhi-Wisdom: Although one can enter deeply into the scriptural treasury and benefit from the Buddhadharma, one clings to one method exclusively, unable to integrate principles and phenomena freely without obstruction. Therefore this too is a demon.

These latter six, combined with the former four, make the ten demons. In summary, anything that can obstruct the holy path and endanger our wisdom-life is called a 'demon.' When you're disturbed by various demons, what should you do? Don't forget to hold and chant the holy name of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva. With this one thought, all deluded thoughts are broken and true suchness appears before us. As it's said: when the lamp of wisdom is not extinguished, demons cannot invade; when the mirror of wisdom is always bright, dreams do not encroach. The evil eyes of evil ghosts are precisely evil views; therefore, when the light of wisdom shines, evil views are extinguished. Like a sick eye that fears the majestic light of the sun and moon and does not dare to look directly at it—this is what is meant by 'auspicious light shining through destroys a thousand illnesses.'

I once heard this story: there were two landlords, each with a hired laborer. They quarreled over water for irrigating their fields, and one of them, lifting his hoe, accidentally struck and killed the other. That laborer, seeing he'd caused a great disaster, dropped his hoe and fled. Fleeing to a remote mountain temple, he saw the compassionate countenance of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva and involuntarily knelt down to repent. From then on, he lived in seclusion in the mountains as a diligent practitioner. The deceased, it's said, couldn't rest as a wandering spirit and searched everywhere for the man who had killed him, wanting to avenge his death. He inquired of the local Earth God, who told him the man was residing at a certain temple in cultivation. The vengeful ghost searched the entire temple but couldn't find him. He went again to ask the Earth God, who told him: 'That person is now in deep meditation, so of course you can't seize him. If you truly want revenge, the only way is to go into the great hall and shake the ritual implements, because he's in charge of the hall. However, if you move the implements and he doesn't give rise to the slightest anger, you still won't be able to fulfill your wish.' The vengeful ghost, upon hearing this, transformed into a mouse and shook the offering bowl, making it emit sound. The practitioner, unable to bear the mouse's disturbance, gave rise to a single thought of anger. The vengeful ghost, taking advantage of that moment of anger, seized him. The practitioner, knowing he'd fallen into a great trap, pleaded: 'Let me first clean the great hall and bid farewell to everyone, then I'll go with you!' The ghost, suspecting nothing, released him. The practitioner quickly returned to deep meditation. The vengeful ghost, unable to find him, could only weep and complain to the Earth God. The Earth God then carefully instructed and persuaded him, acting as mediator, asking the practitioner to chant sutras to help the vengeful ghost transcend. Only then was this enmity settled.

From this story we can gain some insight, and it can also confirm the explanation I gave above: 'As long as the light of our wisdom is never extinguished, we will no longer cling to the false self of conditioned aggregates as real.' If we can call the name of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva with this understanding, evil ghosts will not be able to look upon us with hostile eyes—how much less could they harm us.

Furthermore, if there is a person, whether guilty or innocent, bound in handcuffs, shackles, cangue, and locks, confined in body, who calls the name of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva, all these will be broken and he will gain liberation. This is the sixth of the seven difficulties: the difficulty of imprisonment. 'Handcuffs, shackles, cangue, and locks': handcuffs are for the hands, shackles for the feet, the cangue is a board placed around the neck, and locks are iron chains binding the body. 'Confined in body'—to confine is to restrain, to bind is to fetter. The meaning is: the human body is originally free, but because of being bound by handcuffs, shackles, cangue, and locks, it becomes unfree. This passage says that whether you're bound because of guilt or without guilt, through the power of calling upon Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva, the handcuffs, shackles, cangue, and locks will break apart. The Fayuan Zhulin records: during the Jin Dynasty, there was a man named Dou Chuan. When he was a foot soldier in Gaochang, he was captured by Lü Hu. Altogether there were seven companions, all imprisoned in a jail, with a fixed day set for their execution. Dou Chuan in prison single-mindedly called upon Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva for three days and three nights. The shackles and locks suddenly broke open by themselves. Dou Chuan thought: although I personally have received the Bodhisattva's compassionate rescue, there are still six companions. How can I escape alone and abandon them? Therefore, he earnestly prayed to Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva to compassionately protect the other prisoners, hoping the Great Being would save them all. After he spoke this, he led his companions in order to escape, fleeing by night back to his own country.

Explaining from the surface, it is the same as the other five difficulties of Avalokiteshvara's hidden assistance mentioned above. However, from the deeper meaning, who is it that has bound you? These handcuffs, shackles, cangue, and locks are nothing but your own self-binding. If your mind harbors unwholesomeness, hidden resentment, distress, and inner unease, you cannot attain a state of freedom. Or if you're entangled by the demons of illness, or meet with adverse circumstances, blaming heaven and resenting others—such blame of others, is this not falling into self-binding? Calm down and reflect: how many invisible fetters do we bear? Nearly every person, day and night, is 'bound by handcuffs, shackles, cangue, and locks' without knowing it. Look at the handcuffs of reputation, the shackles of profit, the cangue of love and affection, the locks of self-grasping—each and every one of these binds us. Observe people in the world: how many are not led by the nose by fame and profit? For the sake of fame and profit, they spare no scheme, endure all hardships, running east and west, without the slightest view of their own. How can this be called freedom? The cangue refers to the love between man and woman: a man desires a woman, lust fills the heart, jealousy swells, not a grain of sand tolerated in the eye. If obstructed, or if emotional storms arise, a great 'tragic love story' is performed. If they marry and form a family, the man fetters the woman, the woman binds the man, neither can leave the other—what is this if not a cangue? Why do we say self-grasping is a shackle? Because one clings to this false self as the true self, runs about for the self all day, serves the self at every moment, and at the slightest dissatisfaction flies into a great rage. Therefore we say self-grasping is a shackle. A person's whole life is spent fearing gain and loss over these things, the mind never at peace. A person in such a state, suffering the same anxieties as a prisoner, even with beautiful ideals, a fortune of ten thousand strings of cash, and a far-spread reputation, still cannot taste the joy of life.

Accordingly, for people living in the world, according to the Buddhadharma, being bound by visible handcuffs, shackles, cangue, and locks is a small problem; being entangled by invisible ones is the big problem. Why? Visible fetters are imposed on us by others, so there is still a day of liberation. But invisible fetters are self-imposed; if so, then only you yourself can seek liberation of the mind, willing to leap out of the circle of fame and profit, the garden of love and affection, before there's any way to release them. Otherwise, not only in this life will there be no release, but in life after life, you must still wear these invisible fetters to keep your appointment with the six realms of samsara. The Buddha is indeed a Great Awakened One, at all times pointing out the deluded ford for sentient beings. In this passage he tells us: 'To be free from the bondage imposed by others or by oneself, to prevent internal and external conditions from binding our Dharma-body, one must understand that bondage is self-acquired. Like a silkworm spinning a cocoon, binding itself; quickly sever the mind of self-grasping, depart from the realm of afflictions, and one can be free from all handcuffs, shackles, cangue, and locks.' May we all encourage one another in this.

If in the three-thousand-fold world the whole land were filled with enemies and thieves, and a caravan leader were leading many merchants carrying precious goods through a dangerous road, one among them made this declaration: 'Good men! Do not be afraid! You should single-mindedly call the name of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva. This Bodhisattva can bestow fearlessness upon sentient beings. If you call his name, you will gain liberation from these enemies and thieves!' The merchants, upon hearing this, all cried out together, 'Namo Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva!' Because of calling his name, they immediately gained liberation. Among the seven difficulties, this is the last one, called the difficulty of enemies and thieves. Enemies are adversaries; thieves are robbers. Encountering either of these two, anyone would feel helpless and utterly unlucky. How much more so to encounter both at the same time—would this not make one's heart pound with great terror?

This passage continues to speak of the hidden benefits Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva bestows on beings, showing how to pass through the terror of enemies and bandits. Imagine a land spanning an entire three-thousand-great-thousand world system, filled with countless enemies and robbers who constantly threaten the lives and possessions of all who dwell there. Clearly such a realm would be extraordinarily dangerous—nearly a place where no one would dare to set foot. Yet suppose a caravan leader guides many merchants, each carrying treasures of immense value, and they have no choice but to pass through this dangerous road. Everyone understands how full of bandits the road is, and how a single lapse could cost their lives and wealth. As they press forward anxiously, in fear and trembling, suddenly one of the merchants addresses the others:

"Good and faithful friends! We have entered a most perilous road. Please don't give rise to fear. Calm your minds and with one mind chant the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, and the Bodhisattva will empower and rescue us from this peril. Why? Because Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva responds to the world and constantly bestows fearlessness upon all beings. If you can wholeheartedly chant the Bodhisattva's name, all the enemies and robbers throughout this three-thousand-great-thousand world system will be subdued and will not harm us in the slightest."

The merchants, hearing his words, joined their voices to chant "Namo Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva." Because of their recitation of the name, they were at once delivered from the peril of the bandits and passed freely and safely through the dangerous road.

In ancient times there was a Master Kūya (Kongya). While traveling he encountered bandits. When the Master saw them, tears welled up spontaneously from his compassionate heart. The bandits, seeing how he looked, mocked him, saying: "Look at this monk with no real cultivation! He values his worldly goods so much that we only take a little of his money, and instead of behaving like a grown man of mettle, he breaks down in tears."

"No!" Master Kūya replied. "This old monk is not grieving over the loss of his wealth. I'm thinking of people like you. You have bodies stronger than ordinary folk, and there's so much you could do in the world. What evil karma must you have committed to fall into the life of a bandit in this existence, robbing and stealing everywhere and piling up more offenses for yourselves? When I think of the painful retribution you'll receive in the future, I can't help but shed tears."

After Master Kūya spoke, his tears kept flowing. This compassionate heart so moved the bandits that they eventually abandoned their evil ways, returned to the right path, and took refuge with Master Kūya as their teacher, becoming his disciples.

In the twelfth year of the Republic of China, while I was studying at South Putuo in Xiamen, there was a Dharma friend named Guangfu, whose secular name was Lin Ziyun. He wished to travel to Quanzhou on some business, and others had asked him to bring back two taels of silver and to purchase some "soft-foot incense" (a very famous incense at the time) from Qingchun Hall as an offering to Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva. When he was halfway there, he heard someone behind him shout loudly: "Halt!" Dharma Master Guangfu was quite young at the time. Hearing this shout and realizing it was bandits, he immediately took to his heels, running and chanting the holy name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva as he fled. The bandits, unable to catch him, fired their guns. Quicker than thought, just as Dharma Master Guangfu was about to turn his body to see if the bandits were catching up, in that critical instant a bullet struck squarely into the pouch at his waist where the silver was kept. When the bandits saw that he had been hit by a shot and was still running without harm, they were filled with great fear and dared not pursue him further. Dharma Master Guangfu was thus delivered from the peril of bandits through his recitation of the Bodhisattva's name.

There was also a monk named Hengshun who had a similar story to tell. Among the older residents of Japan, this incident is fairly well known. One day, a thief came to the place where the monk lived. "Hand over your money!" the thief said, brandishing a samurai sword. The monk wasn't afraid of the sword. "Very well, very well," the monk said, and brought out all the money he had to give to him. The thief pocketed the money the monk offered and was about to slip quietly out the door. Just at that moment—"Wait a moment!"—the monk called out to him. The thief stopped in his tracks. "You demanded something from another person and were going to leave without even saying thank you. Does that make any sense? This money was originally what I intended to offer to the Buddha. All you need to do is say thank you to the Buddha." "Thank you!" said the thief, and went on his way.

Not long afterwards, the thief committed another offense elsewhere and was arrested. He confessed that he had also stolen the monk's money. The police officer took him to see the monk. When the monk saw him, he said at once: "That is correct. On the night of such-and-such a date, a man came in and asked me for money, so I gave him money. This was not something he stole; it was what I willingly gave. What evidence is there? I remember when he left, he even said 'thank you' as he went!"

The officer, hearing the monk's words, said to him: "Your words, Reverend, seem intended to save this thief. But he has committed theft many times elsewhere, his crimes are too grave, and we can't let him escape again."

After hearing the officer's words, the monk stepped forward, grasped the thief's hand, and said tearfully: "I myself am very poor. I already gave you all my money, even asking you to thank the Buddha. Yet my sincerity wasn't enough to move you, and you went on to steal elsewhere."

The thief, hearing this, said not a word, his face burning with shame. In prison, he couldn't put the monk's words out of his mind. After his release, he ran to the monk to confess his faults. From then on, he turned away from evil and embraced the right path, earnestly striving to make something of his life through wholesome endeavor.

This is the transforming power of compassion, and this is precisely the meaning of this passage of the scripture. From the standpoint of principle, our body is an illusory form composed of the four elements—earth, water, fire, and wind. It resembles a kingdom, a piece of land, a little world of its own. Outside this realm are the five consciousnesses of eye, ear, nose, tongue, and body, which together gather the eighty-four thousand bandit-robbers—namely, the afflictions. The "caravan leader" refers to the mind-king of the eighth consciousness—the ālaya-vijñāna. Ālaya is Sanskrit; translated into Chinese it means "storehouse," the place that contains all the seeds of good and evil. It is the underlying substance of all minds. The first seven consciousnesses arise from the eighth consciousness. Those that follow the mind-king and belong to the mind-king are called mental factors. The mind-king and the mental factors together comprise ninety-four dharmas, belonging to conditioned dharmas. Adding the six kinds of unconditioned dharmas gives the hundred dharmas spoken of in the Consciousness-Only school. The functions that arise from the mind and mental factors are the "merchants." This mind carries both the precious treasure of Buddhahood and the bandits of downfall and delusion. So within our mind, the bearing of treasure and the bandit serve as a metaphor. Within the ālaya-vijñāna is also hidden a priceless treasure—our own true nature. This priceless treasure is concealed within, just as when walking along a dangerous mountain road, a single lapse of care can cause one to be harmed by the bandit-rogues of delusive thoughts and to sink into the six realms of rebirth.

If you raise a single wholesome thought as your leader, don't fear the multitude of affliction-bandits. Gather the scattered thoughts into one. Raise the stabilizing power of samādhi, and proclaim the holy name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva. From concentration arises wisdom; from wisdom one departs from the panic and suffering of birth and death. Once delivered from suffering, what is there still to fear? If we can sincerely practice, taking the Bodhisattva's great compassion that shares the same essence with all beings as our master, and draw the other minds into wholesome thoughts, then we can preserve our true suchness, the Buddha-nature, and all the wealth of virtuous dharmas.

In ancient times, in Liang Mountain there was Chan Master Yan Guan who led the community in cultivation. Among the assembly was a gardener-monk who was in charge of the vegetable garden and who understood Chan principles quite well. Because his role was that of gardener, most people didn't like to hear him talk about Chan and constantly mocked him. One day, when the old gardener was again expounding Chan principles, one person in the assembly said: "Since you understand Chan principles so well, why don't you go and have a word or two with the old Chan master?" The gardener replied: "It's not that I don't dare. I'm afraid that if I ask, the old Chan master will be unable to answer me, and that would force him to step down from the great seat." Everyone laughed at his self-praise.

That day happened to be when the old Chan master ascended the hall to give teachings. The gardener donned his robe and bowed, asking: "Reverend Master, when the household thief is hard to guard against, what should one do?" The Master answered: "Recognize him, and he won't act as a foe." He asked again: "After recognizing him, what then?" The Master answered: "Recognize him and you'll be carried to the land of non-arising." He asked again: "Is this the place of settling the body and establishing the life?" The Master answered: "Still water doesn't harbor a dragon." He asked: "What is meant by living water that harbors a dragon?" The Master answered: "It raises waves without making surges." The gardener listened and asked again: "What about when suddenly it pours down like a flood overturning a mountain?" The Master replied: "Careful! Don't wet the corner of this old monk's robe."

This exchange between the old Chan master and the gardener is meant to teach one to guard the sense gates well, not to allow the six thieves to slip in through any gap, and then to advance diligently in cultivation in order to return to the land of non-arising. Even though one has attained some accomplishment in cultivation, one mustn't forget that one still needs to benefit oneself and others, save oneself and ferry others across. With a mind of compassion and a mind of vigor, one must strive to climb higher before attaining genuine liberation.

The seven difficulties discussed above are now concluded.

"Endless Intent, the awesome spiritual power of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, the Mahāsattva, is precisely thus lofty." This is the concluding passage for the seven difficulties. Mahāsattva is an abbreviation of Mahāsattvā; mahā means "great," and sattva means "sentient being" or "being." Together Mahāsattvā means "great being," signifying "first and foremost among all sentient beings." Mahāsattva may also be called "great Bodhisattva," indicating that Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva is an extraordinary great Bodhisattva, and this term is used to praise the Bodhisattva's greatness further. "Awesome spiritual power": wei (might) can overcome ten thousand difficulties; shen (spiritual) means that whatever is sought will be granted, enabling sentient beings to depart from the sea of suffering and advance toward bodhi. "Lofty" describes the awesome spiritual power of the Bodhisattva as resembling a towering, majestic mountain.

The Buddha, having spoken to this point, called out "Endless Intent" and said to him: "Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva possesses such magnificent awesome spiritual power—how could anyone fail to sincerely and constantly recite the Bodhisattva's holy name?"

The seven difficulties discussed above all concerned external circumstances. Now the discourse turns to the difficulty of the three poisons, which arise from within.

"If there are beings who are excessive in sexual desire, constantly and reverently reciting Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva's name, they will be able to depart from desire."

Greed, hatred, and delusion are called the three poisons because they can poison our body and mind. Of the three, the most intense form of greed is sexual desire, for it is what most readily poisons our body and mind and corrupts our character. Once the mind of sexual desire arises, it disregards whether the object is beast or kin, ignores propriety, and may even lead to such grave offenses as incest and the like. Sexual desire is what is commonly called the sex drive. From the standpoint of survival, it is a necessary instinct; the beings of the world for the most part rely upon it to continue their posterity. From the standpoint of morality, the relationship between husband and wife is the great Way of human ethics. Proper sexual desire isn't forbidden. However, when it goes beyond the bounds of propriety, it harms both body and mind, and the influence it exerts on social customs and education is beyond imagination.

The Buddha didn't prohibit proper sexual relations for the two assemblies of householders; this is a skillful means. If we speak of the ultimate, the Śūraṅgama Sūtra says: "If the mind of sexual desire isn't removed, the dusts cannot be transcended. Even if one has multifarious wisdom and the presence of Chan samādhi, if one doesn't cut off sexual desire, one will surely fall into the demonic path." From this we know that sexual desire is the root of saṃsāra and an obstacle to cultivating the Way. If we wish to remedy it, we must cultivate the contemplation of impurity, and the thoughts of sexual desire will naturally be calmed.

King Aśoka was a wise monarch who devoutly believed in Buddhism and followed the Buddha's teachings in all things. He had a younger brother who followed heterodox views and constantly slandered the Three Jewels. He considered sexual desire a normal part of human life and impossible to cut off, and would often say to the king: "The śramaṇas' claim to be free from desire is a false statement." Even after the king repeatedly tried to persuade him, he still wouldn't believe.

One day, the king's younger brother went out hunting and saw that beasts and birds also delighted in sexual desire. Returning to the palace, he spoke of this to the king, urging him not to believe in Buddhism or to be misled by the śramaṇas. The king smiled and said nothing in reply.

The next day, the king said to his brother: "I wish to go out. Please attend to the affairs of the palace for me." With that, he took a few attendants and left the palace. His brother in the palace, on a sudden impulse, put on the imperial dragon robe and crown, and ascended the throne to hold court. Before long, King Aśoka returned to the palace. Seeing his brother thus, he asked what was the reason. The brother knew that he had broken the law of the land and would surely receive capital punishment, so he hurriedly knelt down and begged for mercy.

King Aśoka said: "Having broken the law of the land, you can't be spared. Since you're so delighted to be king, I can grant you seven days of imperial life. After the seven days, you will be executed. I hope you'll make good use of the seven days and enjoy yourself to the fullest." Having said this, he went out again.

Before the king departed, he stationed an attendant officer outside his brother's sleeping chambers to announce the hours, once every hour. For seven days and seven nights, the time was announced without break. After seven days, the king returned to the palace. Seeing his brother with a worried and miserable face, he deliberately asked: "These past few days, you must have had a very happy time!"

The brother replied: "My royal brother doesn't know. During these seven days, I haven't touched a drop of wine nor gone near beautiful women. With death constantly on my mind, what mood would I have to drink wine and make merry? Now I understand why the śramaṇas are able to cut off sexual desire—it's because they take the great matter of birth and death to heart."

King Aśoka, knowing that he had repented, pardoned his punishment and dealt with him lightly. From then on, this prince no longer dared to slander the Three Jewels.

Sexual desire is fearsome. Emperor Wen of Wei's Essay on Restraining Desire says: "The foremost evil is none other than sexual desire; what is easiest to fall into is improper sexual conduct." If you truly wish to depart from the suffering of the three realms, you must pacify the thoughts of desire within you. The simplest method to pacify the thoughts of desire is to single-mindedly recite the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva. Constantly recite Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva's name so that the Bodhisattva's name doesn't depart from your own mind—only then will it be effective. If you recite in a half-hearted way, neither truly reciting nor truly not reciting, with a distracted, absent-minded air, it will be hard to achieve results.

"If one is excessive in hatred, constantly and reverently reciting Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva's name, one will be able to depart from hatred."

"If one is excessive in delusion, constantly and reverently reciting Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva's name, one will be able to depart from delusion."

Hatred is the most abnormal and violent phenomenon in a sentient being's mind. Once it erupts, the face becomes fierce and terrifying, people are all afraid and avoid one's company, and the mind of hatred can obstruct a million dharma gates and burn up our merit. The demons also seize the chance to disturb one's path of cultivation, preventing you from advancing in training and ruining your bright future.

In the Sūtra of One Hundred Parables there is this analogy: In a certain place, there was a pond whose water had dried up. Two wild geese saw a turtle that was suffering terribly from being unable to drink water. The geese said to the turtle: "Turtle! You can grip a branch in your mouth. We'll grip the two ends of the branch and fly, carrying you to a place where there is water. But you absolutely must not speak!"

The turtle, hearing this, gripped a branch in its mouth, and the two geese gripped the two ends of the branch and flew off. As they passed over a village, the children below looked up and said: "Oh! The turtle is being carried off by the geese!" Upon hearing this, the turtle suddenly flew into a rage: "What would you know about it?" The moment it spoke, it fell to the ground and shattered into pieces.

我们嗔恚的根本，就是由我执而起，不肯输给人家的缘故。又人若一起嗔心，往往迷失理智，患大过错，弄得不可收拾。

The root of our anger lies in self-clinging—our unwillingness to lose to others. And once anger flares up, we tend to lose our reason, commit grave mistakes, and create situations beyond repair.

日本地方有个医生，三更半夜要外出看病，古时日本医生外出得佩挂长刀，以防万一。其妻将佩刀放在他身旁的桌上，医生因性急过于匆忙，竟错将木板当作宝刀佩在腰间。看完病人，主人们仔细一瞧，看到医生的腰间绑了一块木板，大家你看我，我看你地笑了起来，医生正觉得莫明其妙的当儿，才发觉自己挂了一块木板，就怒气冲冲的要回去向妻子兴师问罪，一路上，他嗔心大起，拿定主意饱揍妻子一顿，消消怨气。结果，因嗔心的缘故，走错了房门，一把抓起床上的头发，不分青红皂白的大打一场，那位被打者大喊：'救命啊！救命！'这位糊涂医生一听这声音不太对劲，并不像我太太的声音嘛，开亮灯看，不看则已，一看简直吓坏了，因为被打的不是别人，正是自己的老母亲，赶忙跪地求饶。

In Japan there was once a doctor who had to go out in the middle of the night to attend a patient. In the old days, doctors wore a long sword when going out, just in case. His wife placed the sword on the table beside him. In his haste, the doctor grabbed a wooden board by mistake and buckled it to his waist as if it were the precious blade. After examining the patient, his hosts looked him over and noticed the wooden board tied at his waist. They glanced at each other and burst out laughing. The doctor, still bewildered, suddenly realized what he'd strapped on. Furious, he stormed home to confront his wife. Along the way, his rage swelled, and he resolved to give her a good beating to vent his grievance. Blinded by anger, he went into the wrong room, grabbed a fistful of hair on the bed, and began thrashing the person without looking further. The one being struck shouted, "Help! Help!" The muddled doctor, hearing that the voice didn't sound quite like his wife's, switched on the light. One glance horrified him—for the one he had beaten was none other than his own elderly mother. He fell to his knees at once, begging forgiveness.

嗔，是有对象的，向人冲动生起的一种恶性情感，但对方不一定生起嗔心。只要悟到无我、无人，则嗔的烦恼自然也就消失了。对治嗔心，依正常道说，当然是修慈悲观，因为慈悲是对治嗔恚的。嗔恚是大病，慈悲是良药，只要慈悲观修行如法，那么就能根除嗔恚。但这儿却有无上方便道，只要能'常念恭敬观世音菩萨'，就可以远离嗔心烦恼了。因为观音菩萨以大慈大悲为最大特色，念菩萨圣号，观菩萨慈容，纵然有天大的脾气，也该生大惭愧，化为乌有，这是对治嗔心最简易的方法。

Anger always has a target—it is a destructive emotion that flares up against another person—but the other party doesn't necessarily respond in kind. Once we awaken to no-self and no-person, the affliction of anger dissolves on its own. The standard remedy for anger, of course, is to cultivate the contemplation of compassion, since compassion is the antidote to anger and hatred. Anger is a grave illness; compassion, the medicine. Practice the contemplation well, and anger can be cut off at the root. Yet here is a supreme shortcut: by simply "keeping Guanyin Bodhisattva in mind with reverence," we can stay far from the troubles of anger. For Guanyin is known above all for great compassion and kindness. When we recite her holy name and picture her compassionate face, even the fiercest temper should turn to deep shame and melt away. This is the simplest cure for anger.

愚痴就是迷惑愚昧，对于事理认识不清。对于事理认识不清的人，不一定完全没有知识，有的虽然知识广博，学问高深，但因不信善恶因果，这种人就叫做愚痴。有些人虽然没有渊博的学识，但他笃信因果，深明义理，懂得修学佛法，这便是智慧之人。所以，愚痴并不在知识的高低上分，而是在于信不信因果上分的。愚痴换句话就是智慧的反面，能障蔽我们的智慧之光而增长三毒无明，这也是一切凡夫的生死根本，是八万四千烦恼的根源，愚痴增长便成邪见，因邪见故会受畜生的果报。

Delusion is confusion and stupidity—an inability to see clearly into the nature of things. Those who lack such clarity aren't necessarily uneducated. Some are widely learned, deeply schooled, but because they don't believe in cause and effect between good and evil, they too are deluded. Others may have little book learning, but if they trust in cause and effect, grasp the principles, and know how to study and practice the Dharma, they are people of wisdom. So delusion isn't measured by how much you know, but by whether you trust in cause and effect. Delusion is, in other words, the opposite of wisdom. It shrouds our light of wisdom and feeds the three poisons and ignorance. It's the root of birth and death for all ordinary beings, the source of the eighty-four thousand afflictions. As delusion grows, it hardens into wrong view, and through wrong view one falls into the animal realm.

有的人愚痴非常还不肯承认，甚至要错怪他人。话说乡下的一间小杂货店，住了一对老夫妇和一个十七、八岁的男孩子，这男孩非常不满意他的父母，常对亲朋们说：'我父母是个守财奴，在这穷乡僻壤开一小片杂货店有什么稀奇，老是不放心让我独自看管，两老合起来，年龄都一百三十岁了，整天镇守在店中，不是父亲在就是母亲在，难道我真的那么愚蠢，没办法照顾小生意！我的父母太看不起我了'。

Some people, gravely deluded, refuse to admit it—and blame others instead. There was once, in a village, a small general store where an old couple lived with their seventeen- or eighteen-year-old son. The boy was deeply dissatisfied with his parents. He often told relatives and friends, "My parents are misers. What's so special about running a tiny general store way out here in the sticks? They never trust me to look after it on my own. Add their ages together and they come to a hundred and thirty, yet they sit in the shop all day—one of them is always there. Am I really that stupid, unable to mind a little business? My parents think so little of me!"

亲朋们就把这些话告诉了他的父母。刚好有一天，他外祖父生日，夫妻俩准备了寿礼，把店里交给男孩管理。这男孩盼望的就是独自做生意，当然高兴的很，可是，今天非常不巧，坐了一上午，也没看个人影找上门来，他眼巴巴的望著路上的行人，好不容易才碰上一位路人朝店里走，男孩赶紧起来迎接。

The relatives passed these complaints on to his parents. It happened that his maternal grandfather's birthday was coming up. The couple prepared gifts and left the shop in the boy's care. He'd long been hoping for a chance to run the business alone, so he was overjoyed—but unluckily, not a single customer came by all morning. He stood there gazing down the road at every passerby, until at last he spotted someone heading toward the store. He scrambled up to greet him.

'令尊在家吗？'客人问。男孩想想，瞧瞧货签，没有'令尊'这东西，于是摇摇头说：'没有。''那么，令堂呢？'客人又问。'也没有。'客人一听转身走了。

"Is your father in?" the customer asked. The boy thought for a moment, glanced at the price tags—there was nothing called "father"—and shook his head. "No." "Then, is your mother in?" "No, she's not either." The customer turned on his heel and left.

傍晚，父母亲回来问他今天生意如何？他把嘴一翘说：'这间小店，十样东西欠九样，那有办法赚钱。'其父觉得奇怪说：'我们的店虽小，但日用杂货样样齐全，为什么说十样欠九样？''既然货色齐全，中午客人想买令尊和令堂，怎么没有这两种货？'男孩问。'傻孩子！令尊和令堂，就是我和你母亲啊！'男孩两手拍了一响说：'原来你们也是要卖的啊！'诸位想想，这个男孩愚痴不愚痴呢？

When his parents came home that evening and asked how business had been, he pouted and said, "This little shop is missing nine out of ten items. How can anyone make money?" His father found this strange and replied, "Our shop may be small, but we carry every kind of daily necessity. Why do you say nine out of ten are missing?" "If the stock is complete," the boy shot back, "then why is it that a customer came at noon wanting to buy 'your father' and 'your mother,' and you didn't have either?" "Silly child! 'Your father' and 'your mother' means me and your mother!" The boy clapped his hands together. "So you two are for sale too!" Now tell me—was this boy deluded or not?

人之所以愚痴就是前生修福不多，智慧不足所致，前生不肯布施，不肯修行才会受愚痴的果报，依佛法说，愚痴的人应修因缘观，知诸法因缘生，诸法因缘灭的道理，不执一切相，才能转愚痴成智慧。

The reason we are deluded is that in past lives we did not cultivate enough merit and our wisdom ran short. When we refused to give, refused to practice, we reaped the fruit of delusion. According to the Dharma, those who are deluded should cultivate the contemplation of dependent origination—seeing that all dharmas arise through conditions and cease through conditions. By not clinging to any appearance, we can turn delusion into wisdom.

印度某处有一位老妇人，只有一个独生子，不幸这个独子竟夭折而亡，老妇人将孩子的尸体运往停尸林，日夜守护尸旁，坐在林中悲泣。佛陀路经此林，见老妇人哭得如此哀伤，就慈祥的询问因由，妇人哭诉的说：'我唯一的孩子不幸夭折，我毫无其他办法，只好昼夜守护尸旁啼哭，希望有一天我的宝贝孩子能再复活过来。'

In a certain part of India there lived an old woman whose only son had died in childhood. She carried the child's body to the cremation ground, where she sat among the trees, keeping vigil beside it and weeping day and night. The Buddha happened to pass through that grove and saw her crying so sorrowfully. Gently he asked the reason, and the woman sobbed, "My only child has died. I have no other recourse but to keep watch over his body day and night, weeping, hoping that one day my precious boy might come back to life."

佛陀说：'这那里可能呢！人死是不能复生的，你好好回家吧，别伤了自己的身体。'谁知这妇人竟哭著说：'假若我的孩子不复活，我也只好陪他死了。'佛陀知道老妇人迷失了理智，无法接受劝导，便告诉她：'你要孩子复活，有一个方法，你去找寻一盏吉祥之灯，什么叫吉祥灯呢？你必需每家去问，看那户人家生生世世从来没有死过人，如果有这么一家，你就赶紧引燃一盏灯回来，有了这盏吉 祥灯，你的孩子才有再活的希望。'

"How could that be?" said the Buddha. "The dead cannot return to life. Go home and take care of yourself." But the woman wailed, "If my child cannot be revived, I'll die with him." Knowing her reason had broken down and she couldn't be counseled, the Buddha told her, "If you want your child to live again, there is a way. You must find an auspicious lamp. What is an auspicious lamp? Go from house to house and ask whether any family has had no one die within it, lifetime after lifetime. If you find such a household, bring back a lit lamp from there at once. Only by the light of that lamp does your child have any hope of returning to life."

老妇人听了，马上挨家挨户的去打听，看谁人的家从没死过人。其实，到那儿去寻求吉祥灯呢？谁的祖宗逃过'死'关呢？老妇人找不著吉祥灯只得回禀佛陀，佛陀开示道：'人生谁无死，每一个都必须死，既然如此，你为什么能叫你的儿子长生不死？这根本是件不可能的事，你最好珍重自己身体，信佛、念佛，不要再哀伤了'。

The woman hurried from door to door, asking which family had never known death. But where in the world could such a lamp be found? Whose ancestors had escaped the net of death? Failing to find an auspicious lamp, she returned and reported to the Buddha. The Buddha exhorted her, "Whom among the living has never tasted death? Everyone must die. Since this is so, how could you demand that your son live forever? It simply cannot be. Please take care of your own body, take refuge in the Buddha, recite his name, and stop grieving."

并说偈云：'世间一切之一切，空苦无常莫妄求，荣必有枯成必毁，存亡必失喜为忧，单生一子视如命，子病夭伤苦未休，送往尸林去不返，饥寒忘却郁无畴，如来奋成广开法，苦海慈航放片舟，今向世尊心吉火，当依无始任家修，一失百千假不得，空身报命去依留，佛为广说法增要，彻悟无常上觉舟，或得逆流初果位，旁人千万开莲藕'。

Then he spoke this verse:

"All things in the world, every one— Empty, suffering, impermanent, do not chase them in vain. Glory must fade, completion must break; Existence must end, possession must go, joy must turn to grief. Bearing one only son as her very life, The child's illness and untimely death bring endless sorrow. Sent to the cremation ground, he never returns; Hunger and cold forgotten, her grief knows no bounds. The Tathāgata, resolved and bold, broadly opens the Dharma— Launching a single boat of compassion upon the sea of suffering. Now before the World-Honored One, light the auspicious flame of the heart; Rely on the Dharma of beginningless time to cultivate at home. Once lost, no substitute, though a hundred thousand offered, will do; With empty body and borrowed fate, where could one go for refuge? The Buddha broadly expounds the essential points of the Dharma, Fully awakening to impermanence, boarding the boat of enlightenment; Perhaps attaining the first fruit against the stream, Bringing forth lotus blooms for thousands of others by one's side."

世间本无常，娑婆本是苦，既然如此，就不需要求事事如愿，事事久常，人的一生中，逆境是难免的，逢到逆境时，要有勇气去面对一切，去看破，放下一切，有时逆境也是增上缘，可以激励我们向上创业，向前发展，所以不要哀声叹气，更不可怨天尤人，俗语说得好'失败为成功之母'，切莫为小而失大，执迷而不悟，或凡事不讲理，自以为是，那只有徒增本身的痛苦，对你并不能有丝毫的利益。

The world is impermanent by nature; this Sahā world is itself a place of suffering. Since this is so, there's no need to insist that everything go as we wish, or that things last forever. In any life, adversity is unavoidable. When it comes, we need the courage to face it, to see through and let go. Sometimes adversity itself is a favorable condition—something that can drive us to build and move forward. So don't sigh in despair, and never rail against heaven or blame other people. As the saying goes, "Failure is the mother of success." Don't sacrifice the greater for the smaller, or stay lost in delusion without awakening, or insist you're right about everything without reason. That only adds to your own pain and brings you no benefit at all.

假使众生，有自知之明，知道自己易迷于境，对理不能澈底了知，那么，应该常念观音圣号，必然会得到智慧的。问题是世间上的人，自以为聪明的很多，有几个肯承认自己愚痴呢！所以你要他称念观音圣号，决不是简单之事。我个人觉得，为人最好还是谦虚些，应该承认自己智慧有限，求菩萨加被，多念菩萨圣号，菩萨一定会赐给我们智慧，破除吾人的愚痴病。

If sentient beings have any self-knowledge at all, knowing how easily they get lost in objects, unable to see through to the end of things, then they should keep reciting Guanyin's holy name, and wisdom will surely come. But the trouble is that many people in this world think themselves clever; how many are willing to confess their own delusion? Asking them to recite Guanyin's holy name is no small matter. For my own part, I think it's best to stay humble—acknowledge the limits of our wisdom, seek the Bodhisattva's blessing, and recite her holy name often. The Bodhisattva will surely bestow wisdom and cure this disease of ours.

无尽意！观世音菩萨，有如是等大威神力，多所饶益，是故众生，常应心念。

"Akṣayamati! Guanyin Bodhisattva possesses such great and awesome spiritual powers, bringing benefit in abundance. For this reason, sentient beings should always keep the Bodhisattva in mind."

这是总结以上所讲的三毒。佛陀再叫了一声听众中的发问代表无尽意菩萨说：'观音菩萨能以戒、定、慧三学来对治众生的贪、嗔、痴三毒，转众生的贪欲心为无贪之净定，以慈悲心来换众生的嗔恚心，用智慧转众生之愚痴病。拔去三不善根的恶毒，以成三善根的德行，让众生朝真、善、美的大道迈进，普遍利益一切众生，观音菩萨有如此不可思议的大威神力，所以众生应时时刻刻，至诚恳切地念观音菩萨的圣号。

This concludes what we have said on the three poisons. The Buddha, addressing Akṣayamati—his representative questioner in the assembly—said: "Guanyin Bodhisattva uses the threefold training of precepts, meditation, and wisdom to remedy sentient beings' three poisons of greed, hatred, and delusion. She transforms greed into the pure samādhi of non-attachment; she meets their hatred with her own heart of compassion; she turns their delusion over with wisdom. She pulls out the poisonous roots of the three unwholesome factors and fosters the virtues of the three wholesome roots, leading sentient beings along the great way of truth, goodness, and beauty, and broadly benefiting all beings. Such are Guanyin's inconceivable, awesome spiritual powers; therefore, sentient beings should, every moment and with the utmost sincerity, recite the holy name of Guanyin Bodhisattva."

救七难，离三毒，已说过了，继续要讲的是'求愿'请看下面经文：

The seven difficulties and the three poisons we have covered. The next topic is "fulfilling wishes." Look at the passage below:

若有女人，设欲求男，礼拜供养观世音菩萨，便生福德智慧之男，设欲求女，便生端正有相之女，宿植德本，众人爱敬。

"If a woman wishes to bear a son, she should reverently worship and make offerings to Guanyin Bodhisattva, and she will give birth to a son endowed with merit and wisdom. If she wishes a daughter, she will bear a graceful and lovely daughter—roots of virtue planted in previous lives, loved and respected by all."

这段经文共有四十五字，照此文读来，若有女人，欲生男孩，只要顶礼供养观世音菩萨，就可以生下一个具备福德智慧的男孩，假使想求生女孩，便可生下一个相貌端正的女孩，这些都是前世所积聚的善业，显现于现成的德本，所以能令人爱戴敬慕。

This passage has forty-five characters. As it reads, any woman who wishes to bear a boy need only reverently worship and offer to Guanyin Bodhisattva, and she will give birth to a son rich in merit and wisdom. If she hopes for a girl, she will bear a daughter of graceful appearance. These are the fruits of good deeds accumulated in past lives, ripening now as a foundation of virtue, drawing the love and admiration of others.

世间众生，没有不希望生儿育女的，中国有句俗话'不孝有三，无后为大。'由此可见生儿育女对世人的重要了。

Few beings in the world do not hope for children. A Chinese proverb says: "Of the three forms of unfilial conduct, the gravest is to leave no heir." This shows how much bearing children matters to ordinary people.

我小时也常听长辈的人说'无男可畏'，为什么无男可畏呢？一、我无人奉祀；二、家业没人继承；三、百年以后香火断绝，以世俗立场说，绝子绝孙，那是天大的不幸。就拿现在高呼男女平等的时代来说吧，重男轻女的观念还深植在老一辈人的心中，'有孙非男'心里总不是滋味。

When I was small I often heard elders say, "How fearful it is to have no son!" Why so fearful? First, no one will perform your rites. Second, no heir will inherit the family property. Third, after a hundred years, the ancestral line is severed. By worldly standards, dying without descendants is the worst misfortune of all. Even in our present age that loudly proclaims equality between men and women, the notion of valuing sons over daughters stays rooted in older hearts. To have a grandchild who isn't a boy leaves a lingering taste of regret.

'若有女人，设欲求男'，就一般世俗家庭说，夫妇都希望有一男半女，以增加生活情趣，为什么经文中单说女人求男求女？当知自古以来，为子娶媳，令成家立业，不外三个原因：一、做公婆的所以娶媳，大都是抱孙心切。如媳妇婚后久无子女，难免让公婆失望，甚至对媳妇生起憎嫌，所以女人希望早生儿女，以博取公婆的欢心。

"If a woman wishes to bear a son"—in an ordinary worldly household, husband and wife both hope to have a son or two, to round out family life. But why does the sutra single out women seeking sons or daughters? Since ancient times, there have been three reasons for arranging a child's marriage and settling them in the family. First, parents-in-law usually take a daughter-in-law out of a burning wish for grandchildren. If a bride bears no children long after the wedding, the in-laws can't help feeling disappointed, and may even grow to dislike her. So a wife hopes for children early on, to win her in-laws' favor.

二、做丈夫的所以娶妻，是为子继祠香火，因而终日辛苦忙碌，都是为了家庭儿女。假定妻子久不生育，不但会失去丈夫的怜爱，有时也会因此而成为夫妻感情失睦的导火线，是以女人求子之心特别殷切。

Second, a husband takes a wife to carry on the ancestral line. All that daily labor and striving is for the sake of family and children. If a wife remains childless, she may lose her husband's affection, and may even become the fuse that sets off disharmony between them. Hence a woman's longing for a child burns especially keen.

三、女子结婚以后，如果没有儿女，不但长辈生嫌，丈夫生厌，就是亲朋好友，亦会对你生起讥笑，所以女人求子之心，确较男人来得真切。

Third, after a woman marries, if she has no children, not only will the elders find fault and the husband grow tired of her, but relatives and friends will mock her. So a woman's wish for children is in truth more earnest than a man's.

假使有这么一个女人，希望求生一个福慧具足的男孩，最可靠的办法就是至诚恭敬的礼拜供养观世音菩萨，观音菩萨定会满你所求的。

If such a woman hopes to give birth to a son blessed with both merit and wisdom, the surest way is to sincerely and reverently worship and make offerings to Guanyin Bodhisattva. Guanyin will surely fulfill her wish.

'供养'，是进供资养之义，有三种供养：一、庄严堂舍，恭敬供养。二、读经礼佛，修行供养。三、饮食衣服，利益供养。

"Offering" means to present and nourish. There are three kinds: first, adorning the hall and shrine, an offering of reverence. Second, reciting sutras and bowing to the Buddha, an offering of practice. Third, providing food and clothing, an offering of benefit.

供养，是求子求福的人为了对菩萨表示一点心意，而以香花等各种物品供养，其实诸佛菩萨，以悲心视一切众生，同等无二，对于众生毫无所求，根本就不谈供养不供养的问题。不过佛法所说的供养，不一定是财物供养，如能身体恭敬礼拜，口中称念菩萨名号，心中观想圣容，这样便是最上等的供养了。

Offering is what those who seek children or blessings do to show a token of regard for the Bodhisattva—laying out incense, flowers, and other items. In truth, the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas look on all beings with equal compassion, asking nothing in return; the question of offering or not offering simply does not arise. And yet the offerings spoken of in the Dharma need not be material. If one bows reverently with the body, recites the Bodhisattva's name with the lips, and visualizes the sacred countenance in the mind—that itself is the highest offering.

明朝的时候，有一个名叫杨璜的人，读儒书，操作非常清廉，有一次遇到了兵，围困了他的乡村，杨璜不忍离开自己的祖坟，就将妻妾儿子藏匿在深林中，一人独守坟墓，兵来捉他的时候，他便投河自杀，十岁的小孩，看见父亲跳下水，就哭哭啼啼的也跟著跳下水去，这是顺治丙戌年三月十六日的事情。到了第二天早晨，父子两尸相抱浮起，看见的人，没有一个不伤心难过。

In the Ming dynasty there was a man named Yang Huang who studied the Confucian classics and kept himself scrupulously upright in all his affairs. Once, when soldiers surrounded his village, he could not bring himself to leave his ancestral graves. He hid his wife, concubine, and son deep in the forest and guarded the tombs alone. When the soldiers came to seize him, he threw himself into the river. A ten-year-old boy, seeing his father leap into the water, followed him in, weeping. This happened on the sixteenth day of the third month in the bingxu year of the Shunzhi reign. The next morning, father and son were found floating in each other's arms. No one who saw them could hold back grief.

他的妻子陆氏，从此食素，家里供奉观音菩萨，早早念佛，晚上做梦，见一个老女人带来了一个小孩，对她说：送给你。醒来之后，陆氏向观音菩萨祈祷，愿我的遗腹子是个男孩，然而到了年底，却生下了一个女孩，陆氏说：算了！我家已绝后！

His wife, née Lu, became a vegetarian. She enshrined Guanyin Bodhisattva at home and recited the Buddha's name morning and evening. One night she dreamed an old woman brought a child and said, "This is for you." On waking, she prayed to Guanyin, hoping the child she was carrying would be a boy. But by year's end she had given birth to a girl. "Enough!" she said. "Our line is finished!"

到了春天，集族中长老曰：夫无子，有一点田产，可分给侄辈们，只要留一点衣食给我们母女二人就可以了。说罢，痛哭不已！族中人也不忍，安慰她说：到了明年璜的周年做了佛事后再说。

That spring she called the clan elders together and said, "My husband left no son. I have a little land; let it be divided among the nephews. Just leave enough food and clothing for this mother and her daughter." Having spoken, she broke down weeping. The clan could not bear to see her so, and comforted her: "Wait until next spring, after we have held the first-anniversary rites for Yang Huang. Then we can discuss it further."

By the second year, when relatives gathered for the final day of the Buddhist memorial rites, it happened to be the sixteenth day of the third month. The little girl began weeping for no apparent reason. Her mother soothed her and laid her down to sleep, but she slept as if trapped in a nightmare, yet continued crying quite intensely. When Madam Lu picked her up, she discovered the child had transformed into a boy. The entire clan was bewildered. Only then did they realize this was the response to Madam Lu’s prayer to Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva. The whole clan took refuge in Buddhism, and named the boy Fo Ci, “Bestowed by the Buddha.” Later, County Magistrate Zhang came to verify the event, and when he asked the family, they all said: “If this child had not truly transformed, why would the nephews refuse to divide the family land?” Crane Lad remarked: “Such spiritual resonance is truly earth-shattering.” (— From Ji Qiu Shu)

Prenatal education is deeply important for mothers. The sutra clearly teaches that reverent bowing and making offerings to Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva allow one to fulfill one’s wishes: bearing a virtuous son or a lovely, well-proportioned daughter. Reverent bowing and offerings must be accompanied by a sincere, respectful heart. When reverence fills the heart, all actions take on a dignified grace. Maintaining a calm, peaceful state of mind naturally influences the unborn child. After birth, the baby’s temperament will be gentle rather than violent, easy to care for and teach, and as they grow, they will be compassionate toward all beings, wise, and filled with wholesome aspiration. This passage explicitly addresses prenatal education, guiding mothers who seek children to turn their hearts toward Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva of great wisdom and great compassion, casting off all delusion and straying from wrong views. If a son is born, he will be perfect in virtue and wisdom; if a daughter is born, she will be lovely in form, loved and respected by all. Beyond these mysterious, unseen spiritual benefits, this passage can also be understood from a practical, worldly perspective.

Another interpretation holds that men signify wisdom, and women signify compassion. In terms of general disposition, men tend to have stronger decisiveness when faced with choices. In terms of behavior, men are often more outwardly active, and on average, more skilled at social navigation than women. This is taken to show that women’s wisdom is comparatively weaker. Women’s gentle nature and deep capacity for empathy, their work bearing and raising children and enduring all hardships, represent the greatest expression of motherly love—hence women symbolize compassion. Under this interpretation, seeking a son or daughter is seeking the embodiment of wisdom or compassion. As a Buddhist disciple, one must plant the causes of united compassion and wisdom to attain the full fruition of both.

The key detail to note in this sutra passage is the four characters 宿植德本 (sù zhí dé běn, “having planted virtuous roots in past lives”). These four characters explain the principle of cause and effect. “Su” (宿) refers to the past: it means that in previous lives, one was kind and virtuous, of high moral character, having planted seeds of merit and goodness, which have borne good fruit in this life. Precisely because of this karmic reward, one reaps “the love and respect of all people.”

“Akṣayamati! Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva possesses such power.” When the Buddha reached this point in his teaching, He called out again to Akṣayamati Bodhisattva: “Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva has the great, majestic spiritual power to fulfill all that sentient beings seek, never leaving them disappointed.”

If sentient beings reverently bow to Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, their merit will not be in vain. For this reason, all sentient beings should receive and uphold the Bodhisattva’s name. For if there are sentient beings who reverently bow to Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, the merit they have earned will not be empty or fruitless. “Tang” (唐) means empty; “juan” (捐) means to discard—so the phrase means one’s efforts will not be wasted or without result. We often hear the saying: “When a person is truly sincere, the Buddha responds”—this is precisely that principle. For this reason, we earnestly encourage everyone to receive and uphold the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva.

“Akṣayamati! If a person were to uphold the names of bodhisattvas equal in number to the sands of sixty-two billion Ganges Rivers, and for their entire lifetime provide them with the four offerings of food and drink, clothing, bedding, and medicine, what do you think? Would the merit of such a virtuous man or virtuous woman be great or not?” Akṣayamati replied: “Exceedingly great, World-Honored One!” The Buddha said: “If another person upholds the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, and for even a single moment bows in reverence and makes offerings, the merit of these two is exactly equal, without the slightest difference. Even if enjoyed over hundreds of thousands of billions of kalpas, it will never be exhausted.”

This passage compares the superiority and inferiority of merit. Just how vast is the merit of upholding the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva? We can see from the analogy in the sutra. The Buddha asked Akṣayamati Bodhisattva: “If a person recites the names of bodhisattvas as numerous as the sands of sixty-two billion Ganges Rivers—not only reciting their names, but also throughout their entire lifetime providing the four offerings of food, clothing, bedding, and medicine—what would you say? Is the merit of such a devout man or woman great, or small?” “That merit is exceedingly great, World-Honored One!” Akṣayamati Bodhisattva replied with great reverence. Hearing this, the Buddha spoke again: “Suppose there is another person who upholds the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, and even for just a single moment bows in reverence and makes offerings, not for a full lifetime. The merit this person gains is exactly identical to the merit of the former person who, over a full lifetime, bowed and made offerings to bodhisattvas as numerous as the sands of sixty-two billion Ganges Rivers. The merit each receives, even if enjoyed across hundreds of thousands of billions of kalpas, will never be exhausted.”

The “sixty-two billion” cited above is a figure used to describe an immeasurably large number, meaning a quantity too vast to count, equivalent in meaning to “immeasurable” and “countless.” Every number referenced in Buddhist teachings has a specific basis, and the figure of sixty-two billion is no exception. The “six” in sixty-two billion refers to the six great elements that make up all phenomena in the universe and give rise to all sentient and non-sentient beings: earth, water, fire, wind, space, and consciousness. Of these six, earth, water, fire, wind, and space make up material form, while consciousness is mind—corresponding to mind and form, subject and object, matter and spirit. All dharmas of form and mind arise from causes and conditions, with no inherent, independent nature. When causes and conditions converge, they arise; when they disperse, they cease. They appear to exist, but have no true substance—they are like illusions.

Some people do not realize the body is merely a composite of mind and form, and cling to it as a solid, real entity. Even among the few who understand it is empty, most think of it as empty only after death, not knowing it is empty in its very present moment. The Sutra of Perfect Enlightenment states: “Constantly hold this thought: My present body is a union of the four great elements. Hair, body hair, nails, teeth, skin, flesh, sinews, bones, marrow, brain, and bodily filth all return to earth. Tears, saliva, pus, blood, bodily fluids, drool, foam, phlegm, tears, vital essence, and breath, as well as all bodily waste, all return to water. Warmth returns to fire. Movement returns to wind. When the four great elements separate, where is this illusory body? One then knows this body is ultimately without substance; its apparent unity is just a formation, in reality no different from an illusion.” This teaches the emptiness of the body, the emptiness of form dharmas. It further states: “The four conditions falsely combine to create the six sense organs. These six sense organs and the four great elements, combining inner and outer, falsely give rise to sense consciousness. Within this, accumulations gather, appearing to have the characteristics of sense objects, which is falsely called ‘mind.’ This delusive mind cannot exist without the six sense objects. When the four great elements disintegrate, no sense objects remain. Within it, the sense objects each disperse and vanish, ultimately nonexistent, and the mind dependent on objects cannot be found.” This teaches the emptiness of consciousness, the emptiness of mind dharmas. Intelligent readers of these sutra passages will surely grasp the principle of emptiness in the very present moment.

Why is the merit of sentient beings who uphold the names of bodhisattvas as numerous as the sands of sixty-two billion Ganges Rivers and provide the four offerings throughout their lives equal to the merit of someone who bows and makes offerings to Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva for a single moment? Because upholding the names of those countless bodhisattvas only fixates on their names and forms, grasping at the labels while reciting them. But when one recites the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, one recollects the Bodhisattva’s virtues of benefiting others, without clinging to name or form. This is immeasurable name, immeasurable form, so the merit of the practitioner is boundless.

The Ganges is a great river in India, also known as the Kailash River. It originates in the snow-capped mountains of Tibet, flows southeast into the Bay of Bengal, stretches thousands of miles, is forty li wide, and has very shallow water. The sand of the Ganges is as fine as flour. The Buddha often used Ganges sand as a metaphor for vast numbers. In the fifty-second year of the Republic of China (1963), I accompanied the Chinese Buddhist Delegation abroad on a pilgrimage to India, and visited the sacred sites where the Buddha once taught. When I departed, I brought back a small bag of Ganges sand as a memento. It was golden-yellow and remarkably fine. A few years ago, an Indian journalist visited Taiwan and came to the temple for a chat. When he saw the Ganges sand, he reverently took a pinch and placed it in his mouth, saying: “This sand is as fine as powder; you can’t feel it at all when you put it in your mouth.”

Most people hold the view that the more buddhas one recites, the better, not realizing that too many scattered thoughts only breed more delusive thinking, which is not ideal for spiritual practice. No matter what we do, the key is single-minded focus; this is especially true for cultivation. If we can concentrate deeply on one practice, we will get twice the result with half the effort. I often see many Buddhist practitioners: one moment they are thinking of reciting this sutra, the next moment that one; every few days they want to learn repentance rituals, then want to recite mantras. They exhaust body and mind, but gain little in return. Sometimes this leaves their spirits restless, even becoming an obstacle to their practice. For this reason, it is far better to sincerely and single-mindedly uphold a single name, which will yield far deeper, more genuine results.

Speaking of this, I recall an amusing analogy: There were once two people. One believed in everything; his pockets were filled with protective talismans from countless deities. The other believed only in Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, and carried only the Bodhisattva’s name in his pocket. One day the two went out together and got into a car accident. One was slightly injured, while the other walked away completely unharmed. The injured man was displeased, and complained nonstop: “My faith is no weaker than his. I believe in countless gods. My pockets and neck are filled with their talismans. Why didn’t any of those many gods protect me?” Just as the injured man was seething with frustration, the deity in his pocket suddenly spoke: “We are truly sorry! We did not want to fail to help you, but you worship so many deities. If one of us had come to protect you before the others, it would have been very impolite. When you were in danger, we asked the Jade Emperor to save you, but he passed the request to the Queen Mother of the West, who passed it to Mazu, who then passed it to the Northern Dipper Star Lord. While they were all passing the responsibility back and forth, you were struck.” The other man’s pocket held only Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, so He saved him right away.

This is only a lighthearted analogy, but it holds a truth worth reflecting on carefully. If our faith is clear and consistent, we can fulfill our wishes. If our faith is misguided, and we instead place our trust in random spirits and ghosts, such impure devotion cannot ever reach the true aim of faith. In worldly terms, distinctions like more and less, long and short, black and white are all comparative, relative. In the ultimate nature of all dharmas, everything is absolute and equal, with no quantitative difference at all. The one and the many interpenetrate and contain each other; all things are one interconnected whole. This is why the Avataṃsaka Sūtra teaches that by observing a single speck of dust, one can encompass the entire dharma realm. From this, we can clearly understand that reciting the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva is equivalent to reciting the names of bodhisattvas as numerous as the sands of sixty-two billion Ganges Rivers—and all those bodhisattvas can be said to be emanations of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva Himself. The merit of these two methods of recitation is therefore completely identical, with not the slightest difference. Knowing this, there is no need for surprise, and no room for doubt.

“Akṣayamati! By upholding the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, one gains immeasurable, boundless merit and benefit.” This passage sums up the merit gained from upholding the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva. The Buddha said to Akṣayamati Bodhisattva: “Upholding the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva brings the immeasurable, boundless merit and benefit I have described above.” For this reason, we should diligently uphold and make offerings to Him.

Akṣayamati Bodhisattva addressed the Buddha: “World-Honored One! How does Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva move through this Sahā world? How does He expound the Dharma for sentient beings? What is the nature of His skillful means?” In the earlier passage, Akṣayamati Bodhisattva asked the reason for the name “Avalokiteśvara.” Here, he asks how Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva comes to this Sahā world to guide and transform sentient beings. The implication is: Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva’s reward body originally resides in the Land of Ultimate Bliss—how does He manifest transformed bodies in this saha world? Akṣayamati’s question has three core points: First, for what reason does Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva traverse this Sahā world, and how does He universally manifest to save sentient beings? Second, how does Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva’s “wheel of speech” expound the wonderful Dharma for sentient beings? Third, by what method does Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva’s “wheel of mind” skillfully benefit sentient beings?

“Sahā” is a Sanskrit term, translated into Chinese as kānrěn (endurable) or simply rěn (endurance). It refers to the fact that sentient beings in this land are content with the ten evils, endure the three poisons, and refuse to seek liberation. The Kāranda-vyūha Sūtra explains: “The name Sahā refers to these sentient beings, who are subject to the three poisons and all afflictions, yet can endure such suffering, hence it is called the Land of Endurance.” This “Sahā” world is the world we currently inhabit. From the perspective of ordinary sentient beings: we are born in this land, where we face the sufferings of aging, illness, death, and all manner of torment and oppression. We can bear it all, even taking suffering as pleasure, unwilling to leave this world. It is like a child chasing dragonflies under the scorching summer sun: though he pants like an ox, sweats profusely, and is baked by the harsh heat, he still carries on with joy. Hence it is called “endurable.” Śākyamuni World-Honored One manifested in this Sahā world to teach precisely to liberate sentient beings from the suffering of this land. From the bodhisattva’s perspective: bodhisattvas manifest in Sahā to save stubborn, difficult-to-transform sentient beings, walking the path of bodhisattva compassion. They do what is hard to do, endure what is hard to endure, overcome all hardships, bear all setbacks, never complain or retreat. Hence it is also called “endurable.”

The “skillful means” mentioned here does not refer to the deceptive, underhanded tactics used in the secular world. Rather, it refers to appropriate, fitting methods used to guide and liberate sentient beings. The Commentary on the Lotus Sūtra explains “skillful means” in three ways: First, fang (方) means method, bian (便) means application: it is conforming to the minds of sentient beings, using all manner of methods to teach and guide them. Second, skillful means is a doorway, through which sentient beings can be led into the Buddha’s teaching, as Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva’s universal manifestations guide sentient beings. Third, fang means subtle, bian means wonderful: it is not presuming to guess others’ intentions, but teaching according to the situation to benefit beings. Using all manner of skillful means to expound the Dharma demonstrates the function of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva’s “wheel of mind.”

Expounding the Dharma to guide sentient beings is no easy task; one must have the Dharma gate of skillful means to carry out the work of liberation. Body, speech, and mind are called the “three karmas” in the state of ordinary sentient beings: through these three, one creates wholesome and unwholesome karmas with outflows, which draw sentient beings into the six realms of saṃsāra. But in the fruition state of buddhas and bodhisattvas, these are called the “three wheels”: for by using these three, they destroy sentient beings’ afflictions and ignorance, transform violence into peace, enable beings to transcend the ordinary and enter sainthood, and depart from suffering to attain bliss. When bodhisattvas wield these three wheels to manifest and transform in the world, the great functions they display are beyond what we ordinary people can conceive or describe—this is called the inconceivable transformation of the three wheels.

The Buddha addressed the bodhisattva Infinite Intent: Good man! If there are beings in any land who can only be liberated by encountering the Buddha’s form, Guanyin Bodhisattva will manifest a Buddha body to teach them the Dharma and guide them onto the path. From this passage onward, we explain the thirty-three manifestations and nineteen teaching methods that Guanyin Bodhisattva uses to skillfully liberate beings through the Universal Gateway. Readers who reflect carefully will see that the thirty-three manifestations encompass the nineteen teaching methods, and the nineteen teaching methods are simply the display of the thirty-three manifestations. The previous passage records the bodhisattva Infinite Intent asking the Buddha about the three turnings of the Wheel of Dharma related to Guanyin Bodhisattva. Here, the Buddha answers Infinite Intent: “Good man, if there are beings in any land who need to encounter the Buddha’s form to be liberated, Guanyin Bodhisattva will manifest a Buddha body to teach them the Dharma, and guide them onto the path.” To be “liberated” (得度) is to cross over: the character du (度) is the same as du (渡), meaning crossing from this shore of delusion and affliction to the other shore of pure, unconditioned liberation. There are three types of Buddha bodies: the Dharma body, the reward body, and the response body. Of the three Buddha bodies, only the Dharma body is the true Buddha. But the Dharma body is without form, cannot be expressed or shown, and cannot be understood through words and language. For this reason, since ancient times, all efforts to date the Buddha’s life, investigate his family background, or record his physical appearance and actions are as futile as describing people, carts, roof tiles, and rafters in a mirage — the more one studies these things, the more one’s confusion shows. The “reward body” belongs to one who has fully realized the truth of the universe and attained unsurpassed, perfect enlightenment. Spatially, it pervades all ten directions; temporally, it abides in eternal life, endowed with infinite light and infinite lifespan. The “response body”: after the Buddha has completed his own liberation, his Dharma body abides eternally in the pure light of the Land of Stillness. But moved by great compassion, he descends into the defiled world to manifest enlightenment, teach the twelve divisions of the sutras, and display parinirvana — all these are the Buddha’s response bodies. Every Buddha possesses all three of these bodies. In truth, the three are one: there is no second, no third; they cannot be separated. The Buddha body referred to here is the response body, manifested in response to the capacities of beings. To use an analogy: the Dharma body is like our innate potential; learning to read and write, even earning a teaching qualification, is like the reward body; becoming a teacher and passing on what you have learned to others is the response body. Among the ten realms of existence, all beings besides the supreme, unsurpassed Buddha need to be shown the path and liberated, and all manifestations of bodhisattvas arise in response to the conditions of beings. If beings in a given land have deep roots of goodness and the capacity for sudden enlightenment, the bodhisattva will manifest a Buddha body to guide them to the path of Buddhahood, so they may attain true liberation. Buddha nature is inherent in all people. All sentient beings, even the smallest, moving creatures, can attain Buddhahood. But beings have covered their original nature with deluded thinking and attachment, so they sink into the six realms and cycle through birth and death. If we can wash away the dirt of our minds, turn toward the path of Buddhahood, and reveal our true suchness nature, what difference is there between Buddha and sentient beings? All of you who seek the Buddha, who venerate the Buddha: what you are truly seeking is the Buddha inherent within you, not a Buddha outside of yourself. Where is there a Buddha outside of you to seek? There is a verse that says:

夜夜抱佛眠 朝朝还共起 起坐定相随 语默同举止 常如不相离 如身影相事 欲识佛去处 举声语皆是 All of you who read this verse should know that the Buddha is with you, day and night, never apart. You should generate the mind of diligence, courageously walk the path, and soon see your original face. Should there be beings who should be liberated through the body of a pratyekabuddha, [Guanyin] will manifest the body of a pratyekabuddha to teach them the Dharma. Should there be beings who should be liberated through the body of a shravaka, [Guanyin] will manifest the body of a shravaka to teach them the Dharma. If there are beings in any land who should be liberated through the body of a pratyekabuddha, the great-compassionate Guanyin Bodhisattva will manifest the body of a pratyekabuddha to teach them the twelve links of dependent origination, and guide them onto the path. If there are beings who should be guided to liberation through the body of a shravaka, the bodhisattva will manifest the body of a shravaka to teach them the four noble truths, in accordance with their capacities. Pratyekabuddha is a shortened term; the full name is pratyekajbuddha. It is a Sanskrit term, translated in older texts as “solitary awakened one” and in newer translations as “solitary realizer.” According to Tiantai Buddhist teachings, the solitary awakened one who hears the teachings and the solitary realizer who awakens on their own are different. The former are holy beings who lived while the Buddha was in the world: they heard the Buddha teach the twelve links of dependent origination, received his instructions, practiced, and attained awakening. The latter are those who lived in an age with no Buddha. Though there were no teachings to hear, due to the roots of wisdom they planted in past lives, they awakened to the impermanence of all phenomena by observing the natural world: the fresh green buds on tree branches in spring, the full bloom of a hundred flowers, the falling petals and drifting leaves of autumn, the biting winter wind that strips all things bare. These are called solitary realizers. The twelve links of dependent origination are also called the twelve links of existence. “You” means all that exists in the world; “zhi” means parts or divisions: it refers to the twelve parts that make up all the cycles of birth and death, with nothing outside of them. The first link, “ignorance,” refers to delusion and darkness, the general term for all afflictions. It arises from deluded thinking in the mind, so it is also called “delusion.” The second link, “formation,” refers to action and creation: acting on deluded thoughts, it is the karmic action of body and speech, so it is also called “karma.” These two links are the two causes of the past. To put it plainly, “formation” is blind following. When I was young, I often heard elders tell the story of Qiu Wangshe, which has a fitting analogy for blind following. Qiu Wangshe was a well-known jokester in his village. One day, a wealthy farmer said to him, “Wangshe, you’ve told hundreds of jokes, but I’ve never heard you make people laugh with just one word. Today I’ll make a bet with you: if you can get the whole crowd laughing with just one word, I’ll treat you to a feast of the finest dishes.” So Wangshe found four or five blind beggars, stood them by a pond, and said to them, “Today is the birthday of a certain deity. When I shout ‘kneel,’ you all kneel. After the ceremony is over, I’ll treat you all to a feast of the finest food.” When Wangshe shouted “kneel,” all four or five blind men fell straight into the water, and everyone burst out laughing. This is just an absurd tale, but think about it: how many people with clear sight can you find in this world? They are blind in their eyes, but we are blind in our hearts! Isn’t heart-blindness far more pitiful, far more frightening, than eye-blindness? For the sake of a single thought of ignorant delusion, people commit great evil: the five heinous acts and the ten evil deeds. For small things, they kill and set fires. If they do not wake up to this soon, they will surely fall into a bottomless pit of fire, and find liberation extremely hard to attain. Due to past causes ripening, the five results of the present life arise: the third link, “consciousness,” refers to the awareness that leads to rebirth in this life — whether to the heavenly realms, the hells, or even the womb of a donkey or horse, all are led by this single initial thought. The fourth link, “name and form,” refers to the mind (which has name but no material substance) and material form (which belongs to the realm of physical phenomena). At this stage, the six sense faculties are not yet fully formed, only name and form exist. The fifth link, “six sense bases,” refers to the gradual completion of the six sense organs — eyes, ears, nose, and so on — just before birth. The sixth link, “contact,” refers to the ten months in the womb, and the period after birth when one comes into contact with the external environment. The seventh link, “feeling,” is the experience of all the pleasant, painful, and neutral results of the karmic seeds planted in past lives, once the six sense bases, sense objects, and consciousness are fully formed. From the experiences of this life, three new causes are planted: the eighth link, “craving,” arises when the six senses meet the six sense objects, giving rise to all kinds of desire and attachment. The ninth link, “clinging,” is the arising of grasping and attachment due to craving. The tenth link, “becoming,” refers to the fact that once craving and clinging arise, new karmic actions are formed, which will inevitably bear fruit in the future, hence the name “becoming.” From these three causes of the present life, two results of the future life arise: the eleventh link, “birth,” refers to being reborn in the next life in accordance with the karma of good and evil deeds. The twelfth link, “old age and death,” follows naturally from birth: where there is birth, there is old age, sickness, and death. In essence, these twelve links boil down to only three factors: delusion, karmic action, and suffering. Before we are free from birth and death, these three turn endlessly like a wheel, causing us to repeatedly generate delusion, create karma, and experience suffering, so we cycle through the six realms without rest. The twelve links are present everywhere. Every thought we have is a cause of future birth and death, and all the joy, sorrow, happiness, and grief we experience now are the fruit of the good and evil deeds we created in past lives. This is why it is said: “To know the causes of the past, look at the results you experience in this life; to know the future results, look at the causes you create today.” The law of cause and effect is clear and unmistaken, with not the slightest error. Every one of you should be careful with every thought and action you have in daily life! In short, the twelve links of dependent origination are the sequential causes of sentient beings’ cycle of birth and death. The Collection of Names for Translation gives a very apt explanation of the twelve links: “These twelve factors are able to bear fruit, so they are called causes; they arise only in dependence on one another, so they are called conditions.” These few words clearly lay out the relationship between the twelve links. “Shravaka” refers to those who heard the Buddha’s teachings for the small vehicle, awakened to the truth of the four noble truths, cut through the afflictions of view and thought in the three realms, and attained nirvana — all are called shravaka disciples. To become a disciple of the Buddha in the shravaka vehicle, one must progress from the stage of ordinary being to the stage of arhat, escaping the three realms and no longer subject to the suffering of cyclic existence. This requires passing through the four stages of progress and attaining the four fruits, which cannot be accomplished quickly. The afflictions of view and thought in the three realms delude and confuse all beings, preventing them from escaping birth and death. “Afflictions of view” are delusions that arise from misunderstanding the truth, born of wrong discrimination: views of a self, extreme views, and other erroneous notions. “Afflictions of thought” are delusions that arise from misunderstanding the nature of phenomena, born of the three poisons of greed, hatred, and delusion: attachment to worldly things and the erroneous thoughts that spring from it. For this reason, small vehicle holy beings must cut through these afflictions of view and thought; the sequence of cutting through them is exactly the sequence of passing through the four stages of progress and attaining the four fruits. The four noble truths are the foundational thesis of Buddhism, and the overarching framework of all Buddhist teachings. Everything the Buddha taught falls within the scope of the four noble truths. “Noble truth” means ultimate reality; the four noble truths are also called the four true truths or the four truths. After the Buddha attained enlightenment, he taught the four noble truths to the five ascetics including Kasyapa in the Deer Park. Later, he repeated this teaching three times for those with the right capacity, known as the three turnings of the wheel of Dharma. The four noble truths are suffering, accumulation, cessation, and the path. The truth of suffering refers to the various physical and mental pains that all sentient beings experience as they cycle through the six realms of existence; this suffering is oppressive by its very nature. The truth of accumulation refers to all the karmic causes created by body, speech, and mind of all sentient beings, which form the motivating force that brings about the suffering of the present life; these delusions and karmic actions are infinite, and are of a nature that attracts results. The third truth, cessation, is the joyful result: it is the nirvana attained by all holy beings who understand suffering and accumulation and diligently practice the path, a state that is eternally pure. Both small vehicle and great vehicle nirvana are attainable. The truth of the path refers to the wholesome practice that all holy beings engage in as they turn toward nirvana — it is the factor that leads to the attainment of nirvana. Both the shravaka path and the solitary realizer path are attainable. In terms of cause and effect: accumulation is the cause of suffering, and suffering is the result of accumulation; the path is the cause of cessation, and cessation is the result of the path. Because beings have past causes of accumulation, they experience the result of suffering in the present life — this is the causal relationship of the mundane, deluded world. If we can awaken to the impermanence of all phenomena, deeply feel the pain of “suffering” and generate the mind to escape from the mundane world, practice the path, and enter cessation, attaining eternal truth, we can escape the sea of suffering of birth and death. This is why the path is the cause of cessation, and cessation is the result of the path: with the cause of the path in the present, there will be the result of cessation in the future — this is the result of awakening in the supramundane world. These two sets of causal relationships — the cycle of suffering and the path to liberation — encompass all mundane and supramundane phenomena, leaving nothing out. If we follow the sequence of mundane and supramundane causes and effects, it is accumulation, suffering, path, cessation. The Buddha first wants beings to grow weary of the deep, sharp pain of suffering, then explains that the cause of suffering is “accumulation,” so they will not dare to create such causes again. This is a skillful teaching to warn against past mistakes. The reason he teaches cessation first, then the path, is so that practitioners will first long for the pure, peaceful joy of cessation, then be shown that cessation comes from practicing the path, so they will have the courage to advance diligently and not slack off. This is a skillful teaching to encourage future progress. Since the four noble truths are the foundational thought of Buddhism, all teachings from the small vehicle to the great vehicle naturally develop from these four truths. So even if you did not hear the Buddha’s voice directly in the age when he was in the world, the Buddhist teachings that have been passed down to later generations, guiding people on how to practice the path to enlightenment, are the same as the Buddha’s direct instructions. As long as you are willing to follow the Buddha’s teachings and practice, you will surely become a fit vessel for the Dharma. In Buddhist teachings, shravakas and pratyekabuddhas are traditionally called the small vehicle or the two vehicles. But sometimes the sutras also say that shravakas are the small vehicle, pratyekabuddhas the middle vehicle, and bodhisattvas the great vehicle. Seen this way, there is some difference between shravakas and pratyekabuddhas. In terms of practice and liberation: shravakas only cut through the primary afflictions of view and thought, and make no effort to eliminate their habitual tendencies. Pratyekabuddhas, on the other hand, not only cut through the primary afflictions of view and thought, but also eliminate a small portion of their habitual tendencies, so in reality, pratyekabuddhas are more advanced than shravakas. Even with these differences, because both see the three realms as a prison and regard birth and death as an enemy, aiming only to benefit themselves and refusing to generate the mind to liberate others, they are still grouped together as one. Some Buddhist practitioners dismiss the small vehicle as inferior, which I think is a grave mistake. Practitioners of the shravaka vehicle: a stream-enterer (srotapanna) cuts through the afflictions of view in the three realms and attains right view. A once-returner (sakrdagamin) cuts through the afflictions of thought in the desire realm, eliminating all desire and affliction in the desire realm, and never returns to it. An arhat cuts through all afflictions of view and thought in the three realms, is freed from all bondage, and never again enters cyclic existence. Practitioners of the solitary realizer vehicle cut through ignorance and put an end to old age and death. What about us? We have not cut through afflictions of view, we have not left behind desire, we have not eliminated bondage, we have not broken through ignorance, and we have not ended birth and death. Compared to them, the difference is as great as the distance between heaven and earth. When we measure ourselves this way, we realize our own minds are filled with deluded thoughts, greed and delusion run deep. We cannot even move a single hair of a small vehicle practitioner, so how can we claim to be of the great vehicle and look down on the small vehicle? There is no inherent great or small vehicle in the Dharma. If all of you understand that the small vehicle is the stepping stone to the great vehicle, and the great vehicle is the evolution of the small vehicle, and both are part of the same path of practice, there will be no dispute over great and small vehicle. There are countless stories of Guanyin Bodhisattva manifesting as an arhat to liberate beings. Here is one example, to show the inconceivable power of the bodhisattva’s spiritual powers. It is said that there was a lotus pond in front of the Puji Temple on Putuoshan. The land for the pond was originally donated by a great lay patron to cover the daily expenses of the temple community. One day, this lay patron led his family and relatives up the mountain to pay respects and offer incense. When he reached the temple gate, he saw the monks of Puji Temple gambling outside the main hall, with men and women mingling freely. The patron stood watching them gamble, and his heart sank. He went to find the abbot and said, “I thought your temple’s provisions were already more than sufficient; otherwise, you would not have extra money to spend on gambling. I plan to take that donated land back — what do the monks think?” The abbot replied, “I have no objection if you wish to reclaim the land, but the deed for that field happens to be in the hands of the group of monks gambling over there. You will have to ask them for it.” The patron went to the gamblers and explained his request. Four of the monks said, “How big is the land you donated? Could you take us to see it?”

So saying, they set off toward the field. The four of them lifted four carrying poles, thrust them into the four corners of the plot, and the whole field rose into the air together with the men, sailing up to the mountaintop behind the temple. The layperson was dumbfounded and fell to his knees in repentance on the spot. Later, a lotus pool formed in front of Puji Monastery, and the field was moved to the back of the mountain by an arhat manifested by Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva.

The four noble realms among the Ten Dharma Realms are those of śrāvakas, pratyekabuddhas, bodhisattvas, and buddhas. In what we covered earlier, though, only three of the four appeared—the bodhisattva body was left out. Why? Because Avalokiteshvara already manifests as a bodhisattva in his own person, so the bodhisattva identity speaks for itself and needn't be repeated. What follows now describes how the bodhisattva manifests in the six heavenly bodies to save beings. The sutra reads:

"For those who should be saved through the body of a Brahma King, he manifests as a Brahma King and preaches the Dharma for them; for those who should be saved through the body of Indra, he manifests as Indra and preaches the Dharma for them; for those who should be saved through the body of a Paranirmitavaśavartin, he manifests as a Paranirmitavaśavartin and preaches the Dharma for them; for those who should be saved through the body of a Maheśvara, he manifests as a Maheśvara and preaches the Dharma for them; for those who should be saved through the body of a Heavenly General, he manifests as a Heavenly General and preaches the Dharma for them; for those who should be saved through the body of Vaiśravaṇa, he manifests as a Vaiśravaṇa and preaches the Dharma for them."

Some beings are lightly burdened by desire, conduct themselves with dignity, and delight in learning the dharma of the Brahma heavens. For these, Avalokiteshvara manifests a pure Brahma King body and teaches them the way of transcending desire.

The Brahma King is the Great Brahma King of the first dhyāna heaven in the Form Realm. The first dhyāna heaven is divided into three—the Brahma-assembly Heaven, the Brahma-minister Heaven, and the Great Brahma Heaven. The Brahma-assembly Heaven is like the common folk; the Brahma-minister Heaven is like ministers and courtiers; the Brahma King is the lord of the Great Brahma Heaven.

"Brahma" means pure. Brahma beings are without desire, aren't attached to worldly material enjoyments, and have a spirit of compassion and universal love—but their pride is enormous, and they look on all else as beneath them. This inevitably gives rise to deluded views, the notion that heaven and earth were created by them and that human beings sprang from them.

The Great Brahma King is the Brahma worshipped in Indian Brahmanism, and corresponds roughly to the God of modern Christianity and Catholicism. Above the Brahma heavens are the second, third, and fourth dhyāna heavens, and above those, the Formless Realm heavens—but these have no contact with human beings, so we won't go into them.

To be reborn in a heaven, say one of the Desire Realm heavens, it's enough to cultivate the five precepts and ten virtues. To be reborn in the upper two realms, one must add the cultivation of dhyāna. To become the Great Brahma King, one must cultivate the four immeasurable minds—loving-kindness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity. So even becoming the Great Brahma King is no small feat.

In Brahmanism the Great Brahma is supreme, but from the standpoint of the Buddha-dharma, the Brahma King is only the lord of a single heaven—he can't transcend the Three Realms or put an end to birth and death.

Now to the Indra body. Indra is a deity of the Desire Realm. The Desire Realm has six heavens; Indra is the lord of the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven. Trāyastriṃśa sits atop Mount Sumeru and is an earth-dwelling heaven. Eight heavens stand on each of the four sides, with Indra's heaven in the center, ruling over thirty-two heavens in all—hence the name "Thirty-three Heavens." Trāyastriṃśa simply means "thirty-three."

Indra is also known as Śakro devānām indraḥ. In a previous life she was an ordinary woman. When Kāśyapa Buddha entered parinirvāṇa, she vowed to build a stupa as an offering to him, and thirty-two other women vowed to help her. By the merit of these roots of goodness, she became the king of the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven, and the thirty-two women who helped became the lords of the thirty-two heavens on the four sides.

She is one of Buddhism's Dharma-protecting deities, much like the Jade Emperor of Chinese tradition; common folk often call her "Heavenly Grandfather." If somewhere there are beings who can only be saved through the Indra body, Avalokiteshvara manifests as Indra and teaches them the truth of arising and ceasing and impermanence, guiding them onto the path of awakening.

Paranirmitavaśavartin is the highest heaven in the Desire Realm. The name means that the beings there don't transform their own enjoyments and pleasures—instead, they freely enjoy and play with whatever the heaven below them transforms into all manner of delights. That's why it's called Paranirmitavaśavartin, "Enjoyment of Others' Transformations."

In Sanskrit, Maheśvara is what we call the Great Self-Existent Heaven, the fourth of the six heavenly bodies the bodhisattva manifests. It dwells above the Vipulakṛt heaven of the fourth dhyāna in the Form Realm. The reasoning behind the name is the same as for the Paranirmitavaśavartin heaven.

According to the Treatise on Wisdom, the Maheśvara Heavenly King has eight arms, three eyes, rides a white ox, and holds a white whisk. With a single turn of thought he can count the raindrops in a trichiliocosm. Both this Great Self-Existent Heaven and the Paranirmitavaśavartin heaven are celestial demons who obstruct the proper path. Avalokiteshvara uses expedient means to save beings—those who do good he draws out through goodness; those who do evil he appears before in awesome form to awaken them. So the bodhisattva's expedient transformations have two aspects: attraction and subjugation. One either embraces beings with love and draws them in, or restrains them with force and tames them. Both are needed to save beings. Love without force can't tame them; force without love only breeds resistance. This is what we mean by giving compassion and authority equal weight, by combining grace with might.

Beings have different capacities. Some, hearing another's good deeds and kind words, can awaken their own goodness; seeing another's faults, they can reflect on their own. Since the bodhisattva saves beings in accord with their faculties, naturally the forms he takes differ from one to another.

The Great Self-Existent Heaven bears the name "self-existent," but it isn't truly so, for its beings still fall and suffer bitter retribution. The Samādhi Water Repentance records the Buddha telling Subhadda: "Your teacher Udraka Rāmaputra was sharp in faculties and intelligent, and could subdue the afflictions; he reached the Station of Neither Perception nor Non-perception—yet at the end of his life he was reborn in the animal realm as a flying fox." Think about it: even one who had reached the Heaven of Neither Perception nor Non-perception fell into a flying fox body—how much more so the Great Self-Existent Heaven? If we human beings can turn wholeheartedly to the Buddha, and cultivate until praise, ridicule, blame, and acclaim leave our hearts unmoved, truly transcending birth and death—then we can be called the Great Self-Existent in name and in fact.

The Heavenly General is the household champion of the Indra Heaven. Although Indra is lord of the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven and enjoys celestial blessings, he's constantly threatened by war, for the asuras frequently challenge him. Whenever hostilities break out, the mighty champion who leads the vanguard is the Heavenly General—some sutras call him General Nārāyaṇa, the Firm Strongman, or the Vajra Strongman.

At the mountain gate of a monastery stand two kings, popularly known as the Heng and Ha Generals. On the left is General Nārāyaṇa; on the right, the Vajra Strongman Namuci. Both are called Heavenly Generals.

From this passage we see that if beings should be saved through the Heavenly General body, Avalokiteshvara manifests as a Heavenly General to rescue them. This shows the bodhisattva's great courageous heart. By appearing as the Heavenly General, that courage takes its place at the temple gate protecting the Dharma—fully displaying the bodhisattva's great compassion, great wisdom, and great courage, truly perfecting the three virtues. He is worthy of our most sincere prostrations and offerings, the ideal object of our devotion.

The Vaiśravaṇa body is the sixth of the six heavenly bodies manifested. Vaiśravaṇa is the Northern Heavenly King of Many-Ears, one of the Four Great Heavenly Kings. There are twenty-eight heavens in all; among them, the Four Kings' Heaven lies halfway up Mount Sumeru, where four heavenly kings dwell, each guarding one continent. Hence they're called the Four World-Protecting Kings, and they form the first of the six Desire Realm heavens. To the east is Dhṛtarāṣṭra, the Sustaining King; to the south, Virūḍhaka, the Growth King; to the west, Virūpākṣa, the Wide-Eyed King; to the north, Vaiśravaṇa, the Many-Eared King.

The lands they govern extend ten thousand yojanas on each side. Any human who cultivates generosity, keeps the precept against killing, joyfully hears the Dharma, is filial to parents, and makes offerings to virtuous friends will, upon death, be reborn in the Four Kings' Heaven. Their life span is five hundred years, and fifty human years count for only one day and night there.

"Vaiśravaṇa" in Sanskrit is "Śāradānda," translated as "universally heard," "broadly heard," or "many-eared"—commonly just "Many-Ears." Brahmanical devotees regard him as the God of Wealth, the guardian of treasure. Inside the mountain gate of a monastery stand the Four Great Vajras—these are the Four Great Heavenly Kings, Dharma-protecting deities of Buddhism.

The sutra says that if there are beings who wish to rule the world and protect sentient beings through wealth and power, Avalokiteshvara manifests as Vaiśravaṇa and teaches them the way of governing the world and protecting life, gradually leading them toward liberation.

"For those who should be saved through the body of a minor king, he manifests as a minor king and preaches the Dharma for them; for those who should be saved through the body of an elder, he manifests as an elder and preaches the Dharma for them; for those who should be saved through the body of a householder, he manifests as a householder and preaches the Dharma for them; for those who should be saved through the body of an official, he manifests as an official and preaches the Dharma for them; for those who should be saved through the body of a brahmin, he manifests as a brahmin and preaches the Dharma for them."

What came before described Avalokiteshvara manifesting in the six heavenly bodies. What is set out here are the various skillful expedient Dharma-gates through which the bodhisattva manifests in human form to save the five kinds of persons.

"Minor king" distinguishes these rulers from the heavenly kings mentioned above—hence "minor," meaning kings among human beings. A minor king can also be called a "Millet-Scattered King." The metaphor is that minor kings are as countless as grains of millet scattered on the ground. There's another explanation: the lands governed by minor kings are called millet-scattered countries because, compared with the great cosmos of the heavenly realms, they are as small as a single grain of millet on the earth—hence "Millet-Scattered King." The son of a great king may also be called a minor king. In short, the minor kings discussed here, whether great or small, are all leaders of a nation's people. A modern president, the head of a branch of government, a provincial governor—all these fall within the scope of "minor king."

As leaders of the people, they bear great responsibility toward the nation and the masses. Their knowledge and talent must therefore be above average, so as not to fail the nation or the people who entrust them. According to the Contemplation of the Mind-Ground Sūtra, a head of state must possess the following ten virtues:

1. Illumination—The king's wisdom is like a bright lamp, illuminating the darkness and lovingly watching over the people.

2. Adornment—"Adornment" means dignified and majestic. The head of a state must have a dignified bearing and a commanding manner in order to earn the people's respect; moreover, he must adorn the land with his great merit and wisdom.

3. Bestowing joy—He handles state affairs with order and clarity, his virtue and kindness reaching into every village, so the people dwell in peace and labor in happiness.

4. Subduing foes—Through virtuous governance he brings other nations to submit; he pacifies within and repels without, protects the country and defends the people, subduing hostile enemies.

5. Freeing from fear—As lord of the nation he must fulfill the duty of protection, giving the people a sense of security, free from fear and anxiety.

6. Appointing the worthy—Gathering the able and virtuous, entrusting duties according to talent, assigning them to share in state affairs and serve the common people.

7. Causing the people to dwell securely in the land.

8. Teaching the masses with proper Dharma, governing the world.

9. Ownership of the land—Every inch of soil belongs to the king; therefore the people must support the government and fulfill the obligation to pay taxes.

10. All the people regard the king as their lord.

Only one who possesses these ten virtues and uses them to transform the people can be called a wise and brilliant sovereign—only then is he a manifestation of Avalokiteshvara. Crown Prince Zhaoming of the Liang dynasty and Prince Shōtoku of Japan both cherished benevolence within, manifested good deeds without, were outstandingly talented and wise, and spared no effort in spreading the Buddha-dharma—they were embodiments of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva.

When Avalokiteshvara manifests as a minor king, he expounds for rulers the principles of the five precepts and ten virtues, leading them to take faith in the Dharma. With a benevolent heart they govern, always mindful of the people, not exhausting them with heavy taxes or oppressing them unjustly. Then they teach the people the five precepts and ten virtues, so that they are public-spirited and law-abiding, helping one another. With this, why worry that the country won't be prosperous and the people at peace? So Avalokiteshvara's manifestation as a minor king isn't about wanting to rule a country—his real purpose is to transform the people and save sentient beings.

Next is the "elder body." Broadly speaking, distinguished gentry and community leaders can all be called "elders"—but we must see whether they possess the ten virtues in full. These ten virtues are the ten conditions one must have to be an "elder." They divide into five pertaining to one's person and five to one's mind. In order:

1. Distinguished lineage—The family name and household tradition shine forth in all directions.

2. High position—Great achievements and meritorious deeds; holding a high-ranking office.

3. Great wealth—Abundant assets; granaries and storehouses are full.

4. Awesome dignity—Bearing and deportment complete; all stand in awe.

5. Advanced years—Past sixty, long possessed of virtue and reputation.

6. Profound wisdom—Intelligence and foresight transcend the crowd; plans are deep and far-reaching.

7. Pure conduct—Deeds of body, speech, and mind are all pure.

8. Complete propriety—Understanding and observing propriety; advance and retreat are appropriate.

9. Praised by superiors—Virtue and conduct are outstanding; those above all praise him.

10. Followed by those below—Those of lower station all submit to him.

Of these ten, the first five are virtues of one's person, the last five virtues of one's mind. In brief: anyone of noble character, high virtue and wide renown, surpassing wisdom, abundant wealth, advanced years, who is fair and upright—such a one is called an "elder."

An elder is beloved by the broad masses, judges matters impartially, and his words carry weight. He can turn great matters into small ones and resolve small matters altogether, so that people naturally trust him from the heart, take his conduct as a model, and gradually transform local customs, abolishing the bad habits of the community.

Avalokiteshvara understands this well, and so he follows along with beings: if there are those who should be saved through the "elder body," he "manifests as an elder" and preaches the Dharma for them.

The third of the five persons is the householder body. "Householder" usually refers to laymen and laywomen who study the Buddha-dharma. In India, however, the term wasn't reserved for Buddhist practitioners—those engaged in farming, industry, or commerce who had accumulated wealth could also be called householders. Even so, being a householder in the true sense is no simple matter. According to the Zuting Shiyuan, a householder must possess four virtues:

1. Not seeking office—Regarding wealth and rank as floating clouds, fame and profit as bubbles on water; his aspirations are pure and lofty, and he does not seek to be ennobled.

2. Few desires, harboring virtue—Not coveting worldly pleasures; coarse tea and simple meals content him; his heart is clean, his desires few, and deep virtue lies within.

3. Dwelling in great wealth—Though not chasing wealth, his household is rich; he is willing to give generously to the public, neither stingy nor hoarding.

4. Guarding the way and finding joy in it—All day long he takes cultivating the Way as his main task, finding his joy within the cultivation itself.

In sum: one who does not yearn for glory and splendor, who does not pursue fame or profit, whose character is lofty, who doesn't linger in places of dispute, who isn't entangled by afflictions, who simply takes refuge in the Three Jewels, keeps the five precepts, lives quietly in seclusion, and practices the Buddhist brahmacarya—such a one is a householder.

To save sentient beings, Avalokiteshvara spares no effort. Reading their capacities and manifesting accordingly, knowing that this class of beings needs to be guided through the householder body, the bodhisattva appears as a householder and teaches them the dharma of pure cultivation and gathering practice, leading them into the Buddha's gate.

Many householders through whom bodhisattvas have saved beings can be found in the history of Chinese Buddhism—Layman Pang Yun, Layman Su Dongpo, and the modern Layman Yang Renshan, for instance, all influenced the intellectual and cultural circles of their day and contributed greatly to Buddhism.

The Śūraṅgama Sūtra says: "If there are beings who love to discuss names and phrases and dwell in purity, I appear before them as a householder and preach the Dharma for them, enabling them to attain accomplishment."

Among the five responsive bodies, the fourth is the body of a minister or government official. The term covers officials who handle political affairs—kings, marquises, generals, and ministers in ancient times, and in our own day, heads of administration, county magistrates, and village chiefs, all of whom can be included under the category of minister. If there are those who delight in governing the people and judging right from wrong, Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva will manifest a minister's body, teaching them the Dharma of impartial judgment and enlightened governance, that they may attain the fruit of bodhi. The Śūraṅgama Sūtra says: "If sentient beings love to govern the nation and adjudicate the affairs of the state, I appear before them as a minister to teach the Dharma, enabling them to fulfill their aim."

Brahmin was the highest of the four caste classes in ancient India. They believed themselves born from the mouth of Brahma and worthy of all manner of respect. Their role in society was to serve as priests in charge of sacrificial rites. Possessing special authority, they needed to do no other work but officiate at sacrifices. The word Brahmin means "one of pure conduct"—persons of noble bearing who have abandoned unwholesome dharmas and are learned and widely knowledgeable. Members of this caste were required to observe their religious precepts for life and to master the Four Vedas and the eighteen major scriptures, among others. In middle age, fearing the extinction of their family line, they would return home and establish a household. Upon reaching fifty, they would withdraw to the mountains to cultivate the Way. Brahmins existed only in the Five Regions of India.

The second caste was the Kshatriyas, said to be born from the shoulders of Brahma. Their role was to administer the affairs of state and defend the nation—kings, officials, and soldiers all belonged to this class. The third was the Vaishyas, said to be born from the knees of Brahma. They held little standing in Indian society at the time. Merchants, farmers, and artisans were all included among the Vaishyas, and they supplied Brahmins and Kshatriyas with every necessity of life. The fourth was the Shudras. People of this class had no standing whatsoever; they were regarded as the lowly ones born from the feet of Brahma, subjected to mockery and contempt by society. They were enslaved for life, enduring all manner of torment and hardship. In ancient Indian society, the gulf between these four castes was enormous. They could not share equal rights, nor could they intermarry. The distance between noble and base was truly as vast as heaven and earth.

The Buddha propagated a religion without authority. He abolished the unequal caste system and instructed everyone to rely on themselves, not on hearsay or custom. Within the Buddhist Order, no caste distinctions were permitted. The Ten Recitations Vinaya says: "Just as the four rivers that enter the sea no longer bear their river names, so the śramaṇas of the four castes are all called Śākyas." For this reason, the Buddha is honored as "the Saint of Revolution."

If there are sentient beings in the world who are fond of divination, the cultivation of health, and broad learning, Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva will manifest a Brahmin body, teaching them the Dharma of nurturing life, transmitting the Way, and finding peace in oneself—teachings of equality and impartiality—to transform their minds of inequality, dissolve their caste consciousness, and enable them to cultivate the Way diligently from a heart of equality.

For those who should be saved through the body of a bhikshu, bhikshuni, upāsaka, or upāsikā, [the Bodhisattva] manifests as a bhikshu, bhikshuni, upāsaka, or upāsikā to teach the Dharma. This passage clearly indicates the ability to respond to the Four Assemblies. The "Four Assemblies" refers to the four kinds of disciples in Buddhism. Bhikshu is the transliteration of the Sanskrit bhikṣu—a man who has shaved his head, left the household life, and received the full precepts. Among the Buddha's four kinds of disciples, he belongs to the assembly of monks. The term carries three meanings: First, mendicant—one who begs above for the Dharma of all Buddhas to nourish the life of wisdom, and begs below for food from laypeople to nourish the physical body. Second, destroyer of evil—one who, having left home to cultivate the sacred Path of liberation, can abandon all unwholesome dharmas and vanquish the thieves of afflictions. Third, frightener of Māra—when a bhikshu resolves to receive the precepts, practices diligently, and widely propagates the holy Path, seeking to transcend the three realms, the Buddha's Path daily flourishes and Māra's Path daily declines, striking great fear into the lord of Māra.

The Buddha instituted the practice of alms-begging to break down the notion of self, subdue pride and arrogance, and keep attachment and greed at a distance. It differs from the begging of ordinary mendicants. What's more, when bhikshus beg for alms, they do so in order—not going indiscriminately from house to house throughout the city; still less do they avoid the poor and seek the rich, or abandon the lowly for the exalted. With a mind of equality, they beg with equality. They take a moderate amount and stop, allowing all sentient beings to make offerings equally, planting wholesome roots of merit so as not to fall into the suffering of poverty. This is the true meaning of alms-begging.

In the records of Buddhist history, there is an account of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva responding by manifesting the body of Dharma Master Sengqia, who appeared in the form of a bhikshu to save sentient beings. The text tells us: Master Sengqia was a person from north of the Lianling Mountains. He left home for monastic life in the frontier region and later went to Xiliang. During the Longshuo era of Emperor Gaozong of the Tang, he traveled from Xiliang to the region between the Yangtze and Huai rivers, and later took up residence at Longxing Monastery in Shanyang. Master Sengqia, together with his disciple Huiyan, went to Linhuai, where they excavated an ancient stele in the Xinyi neighborhood. It was a stele from Xiangji Monastery of the Qi dynasty of the Southern and Northern Dynasties. They also unearthed a golden image, on whose robe was inscribed the name of Universal Light Buddha. The local residents marveled at this spiritual discovery and donated land, requesting him to build a monastery.

On one occasion, after accepting alms-food offered by the Heba family, he rested briefly—yet his body lay three feet above the bed. The Heba family peeked in, astonished. They also saw him manifest the Eleven-Headed Avalokiteshvara. The entire Heba clan came to pay homage, filled with reverence, and donated their residence to become Xiangji Monastery.

When Master Sengqia first arrived in the Jianghuai region to propagate the Dharma, he stayed at Lingguang Monastery. The coastal residents all made their living by fishing. Master Sengqia patiently exhorted them, telling them that killing living beings would bring retribution in the future. Moved by his devoted spirit, many of the fishermen changed their occupation. While at Chang'an, a Commandant of the Imperial Guard fell ill; the Master healed him by brushing him with a willow branch. From then on, the number of people who came to him for healing grew daily. The Master would use, in different cases, willow branches, pure water from a vase, or prayers of repentance for the patient's transgressions. The methods varied, but the result—healing—was one and the same.

During the Xiantong era, there was a man named Pang Xun, originally a garrison soldier from Xuzhou, who left his post without authorization and gathered a band of followers to rob along the way. Just as he was preparing to attack and plunder Sizhou, Master Sengqia manifested as a Vajra warrior, leading a host from within the city to strike the bandit camp. The bandits were fast asleep; suddenly hearing the soldiers attacking, they were terrified and fled for their lives, and Sizhou was spared from being sacked. The local officials reported the matter to the emperor, who bestowed upon the Master the title "Master of Sageship" (Zhèngshèng 大师).

In the fourth year of the Jinglong era of Emperor Zhongzong of the Tang, the Master entered parinirvāṇa. The emperor decreed that his remains be enshrined at Jianfu Monastery. On the second day of the third month, he passed away in seated meditation. His lifespan was eighty-three years, and he had propagated the Dharma throughout the Tang lands for fifty-three years.

After his passing, the emperor, missing the Master, asked Wan Hui: "What kind of person was the Master?" Wan Hui replied: "He was an incarnation of Avalokiteshvara. For those who should be saved through the body of a bhikshu, [the Bodhisattva] appears as a bhikshu to respond and transform in the world." The records of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva manifesting the bhikshu body to save sentient beings are many; I've cited the case of Dharma Master Sengqia as a brief illustration.

Bhikshuni is a slightly corrupted transliteration of bhikṣuṇī; the suffix ṇī is the feminine form. It is translated as "female mendicant." Its meaning is the same as bhikshu, and it refers to a woman who has left the household life and received the full precepts. The Buddha's maternal aunt, Mahāprajāpatī, was the first bhikshuni in the history of Buddhism.

Upāsaka is translated as "male lay devotee" or "male disciple of virtue." Upāsikā is translated as "female lay devotee" or "female disciple of virtue"—meaning one who draws near to and serves the Three Jewels. They are the two assemblies of lay disciples among the Buddha's four kinds of disciples. These two assemblies observe the five precepts: abstaining from killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, false speech, and intoxicants.

The Record of Avalokiteshvara's Spiritual Responses tells us: During the twelfth year of the Yuanhe era of the Tang, on the Golden Sand Beach of Shan-you, there was a beautiful young woman carrying a basket and selling fish. Everyone who saw her wished to marry her. She said: "I'll teach you to recite the Universal Gateway chapter. Whoever can recite it fluently by tomorrow night, I'll marry him." By the next morning, twenty men had recited it perfectly. She said: "I'm only one person—how could I marry all twenty of you?" She then taught them to recite the Diamond Sūtra, and another ten succeeded. She then taught them to recite the Lotus Sūtra, allowing them three days to learn it; only the son of the Ma family was able. On the night of the wedding, she died in the bridal chamber, and her body immediately began to rot. They had no choice but to bury her at once. Later, a monk came and told the son of the Ma family to open the coffin. Inside, only a pair of golden bracelets remained. The monk said: "This was Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva, manifesting a transformed body in human form." After saying this, the monk rose into the air and departed.

The distinctions among the Four Assemblies mentioned in the sūtra text are all based on the precepts and codes of discipline. A bhikshu who has left home receives two hundred and fifty precepts; a bhikshuni receives three hundred and forty-eight. Lay disciples must at minimum receive the Three Refuges and the Five Precepts to be truly called Buddhist disciples. The Buddha established the precepts to set up a common standard for all practitioners, so that those who cultivate would have a guideline. Thus, the precepts serve to keep the Buddha's disciples from wrongdoing and error; they are the foundation of all wholesome dharmas and the basis for transforming the ordinary into the sage. The Sūtra of the Buddha's Final Teachings says: "The precepts are the very foundation that accords with liberation; therefore they are called prātimokṣa. Dependent upon these precepts, one gives rise to the various absorptions and the wisdom that extinguishes suffering." The World-Honored One's entire body of teachings does not extend beyond two gates: the sūtras and the precepts. A thousand sūtras and ten thousand treatises all fall within the threefold training of precepts, concentration, and wisdom. Concentration and wisdom must be derived from upholding the precepts. The importance of the precepts is, then, plain to see.

Having explained to this point, I'll say a few words about the precepts in passing, hoping that practitioners will examine themselves: if you truly possess the determination and strength to uphold the precepts, then receive the pure precepts, cultivate the good, and cease the evil.

Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva knows that there are sentient beings who should be saved only through the body of a bhikshu, bhikshuni, upāsaka, or upāsikā. The Great Being then manifests the body of one of the Four Assemblies for them, expounding the full precepts, or the Five Precepts, or the Ten Wholesome Actions, inspiring such sentient beings to resolve on upholding the precepts, to cut off all evil, to increase and cultivate all good, and to enter the great Path of liberation.

For those who should be saved through the bodies of women who are wives of elders, householders, ministers, or Brahmins, [the Bodhisattva] manifests as a woman to teach the Dharma. This passage clearly indicates the ability to respond to women of various stations. "Women of various stations" refers to married women of different social positions who serve as household mistresses. A married woman holds a central place in the family. Because the family is built around husband and wife, only with a wise and capable helpmate can there be the happiness of harmonious family life. In our country, men and women each make up half the population, but the education of the family depends largely on a wise mother. If you wish the family to be peaceful and harmonious, without a wise mother there is no support. If you wish the nation to rise and flourish, without a wise mother the nation will have no good citizens. From this, the importance of the virtuous wife and worthy mother can be seen.

If people long for purity and peace in their families, their social relationships, and the governance of the land, they must first advocate that women take refuge in the Buddha and learn the Buddha's teachings. When women understand the principle of cause and effect, observe the Buddha's teachings with care, assist their husbands, educate their children, and fulfill the duties of motherhood, they will surely achieve the goal of a happy family, a prosperous nation, and peace under heaven.

What is indicated here are the women of elders, householders, ministers, and Brahmins—but no mention is made of the women of the Shudra caste. Does this mean that Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva harbors a discriminatory heart and looks down upon them? Not at all. In terms of the Indian caste system, the Shudras were the most despised of the four castes at that time. If [the Bodhisattva] were to manifest the body of a Shudra woman to teach the Dharma, it would inevitably invite the contempt of the people of that age, and they would refuse to accept the truth, turning instead to slander the Buddha-Dharma. Would this not defeat the true meaning of the Bodhisattva's skillful teaching in response to the capacities of beings? Therefore, the text does not explicitly mention the Bodhisattva's manifesting the body of a Shudra woman to teach the Dharma. In actuality, however, the Bodhisattva, with equal great compassion, universally delivers all sentient beings, with absolutely no distinction between noble and base.

Elders and householders are persons of pure hearts and few desires, of lofty virtue and conduct; they hold a position of high esteem among the masses. Ministers are leaders in administration; they wield considerable influence in society. Brahmins occupy a special place in the religious sphere. Therefore, Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva manifests the form of a woman, drawing and delivering the women of these social strata—elders, householders, ministers, and Brahmins—enabling them to have devout faith in the Buddha-Dharma. Through this, the Dharma wheel is turned, and by governing the family, the nation is strengthened.

The Buddha upheld the equality of men and women. Evidence for this can be found throughout the Mahāyāna and Hīnayāna sūtras. The Śrīmālādevī Siṃhanāda Sūtra, the "Chapter on the Precious Girl" in the Great Collection Sūtra, the "Dragon Girl" chapter of the Lotus Sūtra, the "Wise Girl" chapter of the Ratnakūṭa Sūtra, and the "Heavenly Maiden" chapter of the Vimalakīrti Sūtra—all of these describe the steadfastness of women in cultivation and their transcendent wisdom, which is by no means inferior to that of men. In the equality taught by Mahāyāna Buddhism, men and women are equal. Both should equally shoulder the responsibility of propagating the Dharma and benefiting sentient beings. There is absolutely no notion of valuing men over women.

Comparing men and women, each has their own strengths. While men possess many excellent qualities, women also have numerous characteristics in which they surpass men—such as single-mindedness and the capacity for patience. Both are qualities needed in learning the Buddha-Dharma. Single-mindedness can serve as a resource for cultivating concentration; patience can serve as a standard for learning the unconditioned. Mahāyāna bodhisattvas cultivate the six perfections to benefit others. Women already possess the particular strengths of two of these perfections. So when Śākyamuni Buddha prophesied that in the age of the declining Dharma, the number of women who attain the Way would be as countless as the grains of sand in the Ganges, this is by no means in error.

Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva, with a heart of compassion, manifests in transformed bodies to save sentient beings. Virtuous women should, with a compassionate heart, serve those above and care for those below, nurturing and developing a mind of compassion, benefiting themselves and others. They should uphold their inherent virtues, be diligent and thrifty in managing the household, conduct themselves with humility, and take Avalokiteshvara's heart as their own heart, carrying out Avalokiteshvara's compassionate deeds. Such a person may be called an incarnation of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva.

It may be worth mentioning in passing the difference between Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva's thirty-two responsive bodies and the thirty-three responsive bodies. According to a detailed reading of the sūtra text, the passage can be divided into four segments: "For those who should be saved through the body of an elder's woman, [the Bodhisattva] manifests as the body of an elder's woman to teach the Dharma"; "for those who should be saved through the body of a householder's woman, [the Bodhisattva] manifests as the body of a householder's woman to teach the Dharma"; "for those who should be saved through the body of a minister's woman, [the Bodhisattva] manifests as the body of a minister's woman to teach the Dharma"; and "for those who should be saved through the body of a Brahmin's woman, [the Bodhisattva] manifests as the body of a Brahmin's woman to teach the Dharma." If this reading is followed, then Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva manifests in thirty-three responsive bodies. Another interpretation holds that Brahmins belong to the priestly class and have no wives; therefore, Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva manifests only thirty-two responsive bodies. This is the difference between the two explanations.

For those who should be saved through the body of a boy or a girl, [the Bodhisattva] manifests as a boy or a girl to teach the Dharma. In the general understanding of most people, the term "boy and girl" refers to children of either sex between the ages of seven or eight and eleven or twelve. But what is meant in the text is not confined to this; in general, any unmarried man or woman may be called a "boy" or "girl." Let us, for the moment, treat them as young children for the purpose of explanation.

Boys and girls both preserve a pure and good heart, like a garden plot that has yet to be cultivated. Parents must carefully and prudently select good seeds for them, sowing them in the garden of their pure and good hearts, in the hope that in time they may bear wholesome and beautiful fruit. So from an early age, appropriate and effective instruction must be given and careful attention provided, allowing the child, as he or she grows, gradually to bring forth their good nature and preserve their innocence, so that when grown, they may become pillars of the nation. Otherwise, left to dark influences, they grow dark; bad habits are hard to change, and their bright future is wasted in vain. How sad this would be! Therefore, Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva specially manifests the body of a boy or girl, expounding for them the pure Dharma of childhood innocence, enabling them to renounce desire and sensual love, reform unwholesome conduct, and diligently advance toward the Path.

In former times, beneath Hiroshima Castle in Aki Province, there lived a poor horse-groom who made his living by leading horses. He had a kind heart and was much respected by all. People called him "Hobei the Buddha-like." Hobei had originally been a wicked man who committed all manner of crimes, terrorized the neighborhood, and bullied his fellow workers. People, seeing him approach from afar, would avoid him as one avoids a poisonous snake or fierce beast, secretly calling him "Hobei the Ghost." How did Ghost Hobei suddenly become Buddha Hobei?

Originally, a moving story lay hidden in the telling. One day, Onobei fell ill and was confined to bed, unable to work for a long stretch. One evening, as dusk settled in, his wife fed him his medicine and said: "You've been sick so long. Everything in the house that could be sold or traded has been sold and traded away. There's not a single grain of rice left in the jar. I'm only a woman, and I can't think of any way to keep us afloat. Tomorrow I'll have to go from door to door begging, won't I?" Her husband could only sit there in silent grief, and the two of them faced each other through tears. Their eight-year-old son, Manzō, who was lying beside them, suddenly sobbed: "Mother! Tomorrow I'll go and be a stable hand. Please, don't you go begging."

At dawn the next morning, Manzō rose early, led a horse out, and prepared for work. But he was so small that he couldn't saddle the horse by himself. Seeing the child's filial heart, his mother was deeply moved. She could only honor his wish—helping him fix the saddle, then sending him off with admonition upon admonition. From then on, the impoverished little family lived on the meager wages their young son brought home.

About a month later, Onobei—who had been something of a rascal—recovered. When he went to the place where stable hands gathered looking for work, he found his son squatting beside a horse, weeping. "Manzō! Why aren't you looking for work? Why are you squatting there crying?" "It's not that I won't work—today none of them will let me load anything." "That's nothing unusual. What's there to cry about? Have you eaten?" "No, I haven't. Since I had no work, I have to give back the lunch box I brought and return it to my parents." "Oh, I see. So if there's no work, you don't eat?" "Mm. Yes," Manzō answered respectfully.

Onobei was deeply moved and full of admiration for his son, and brought him straight home. His wife, when she learned what had happened, was heartbroken too. She fried up a plate of fish at once to comfort him. Manzō finished his rice but didn't touch the fish at all. "Hey! Why aren't you eating the fish?" his parents asked in astonishment. "I don't know why, I just don't feel like eating fish. But I remember—when our parents didn't yet know what to revere, they wouldn't eat even a bite of fish or meat. So I won't eat it either." Something in the boy's words struck Onobei awake. He let go of his old crooked heart and became the Buddhist Onobei, revered by everyone. This eight-year-old child, Manzō, had, by his thoughts and conduct, transformed a lawless father. We might well say he was an emanation of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva.

Next, a true account of one who appeared as a young girl. At the close of the Qing dynasty—during Japan's Meiji and Taishō periods—Mutsu Munemitsu, considered Japan's first-rank diplomat, was sent by the government together with Itō Hirobumi to represent Japan in peace negotiations with the Qing representative Li Hongzhang at Shimonoseki, after the Sino-Japanese War had ended. At that time, his seventeen-year-old daughter, the apple of his eye, was stricken with an incurable illness and confined to bed. As a great minister of state and the bearer of the peace mission, Munemitsu naturally had to put public affairs first and could not let private feelings delay his duty. Before departing, he gazed quietly at his beloved daughter, offered a few words of comfort, and instructed the household that if anything untoward should happen, they need not inform him—it might disturb his composure abroad.

The negotiations went smoothly. Just as the moment came to sign and seal the treaty, Munemitsu remained frowning, weighed down by something unspoken. Itō Hirobumi, who was traveling with him, noticed and asked with concern: "Is something the matter at home?" Pressed again and again, Munemitsu at last spoke the truth: "Before I left, my little daughter was gravely ill. Hearing that our mission here is on the verge of success, letters from home have been urging me to hurry back—my daughter wishes, before she dies, to ask me one question. To think that I, burdened with important duties abroad, cannot even grant my beloved child's dying wish—that's what's been troubling me." Itō replied with deep sympathy: "The negotiations are nearly done. Leave the signing and sealing to me. Set out at once for home and see your daughter—fulfill her wish." Munemitsu packed his things and started home right away.

When his daughter saw her father, she asked: "Papa! I know my illness has no cure, and the god of death is about to take me. The only thing that weighs on me is this: while alive I had my parents to lean on—but after I die, where shall I go? Upon whom shall I depend?" Munemitsu, a great minister who dealt with a thousand affairs a day, had never been at a loss. But his daughter's question left him helpless; he didn't know how to answer. He reproached himself: "How is it I never thought of this question in all my days, so that today I cannot give my beloved daughter a satisfactory reply?" His heart was unbearably heavy. Suddenly he looked up and saw an image of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva hanging on the wall. So he said to his daughter: "Your question—I, your father, don't know how to answer it. But your mother often goes to a Buddhist temple in the Asakusa district to worship Avalokiteśvara, and she constantly recites the holy name of Guanyin—entrusting even life and death to the Bodhisattva. When you've gone on, you may go and find the Great Being Avalokiteśvara, and let her guide you to a place of light and peace." The long-ailing girl, hearing her father's words, joined her palms, uttered once the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, and peacefully departed the human world.

Munemitsu, awakened by his daughter's question to the importance of the matter of life and death, took refuge in the Buddha-Dharma and devoted himself wholeheartedly to the path. He came to believe this had been Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva manifesting to liberate him.

The two accounts above are real examples of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva appearing as a boy and as a girl to save beings. May all who read them take them to heart.

"Should they be saved by the form of a deva, nāga, yakṣa, gandharva, asura, garuḍa, kiṃnara, mahoraga, or by the form of a human or non-human being, in each case [the Bodhisattva] manifests in that form and preaches the Dharma for them."

This passage makes clear the Bodhisattva's capacity to respond to the eight divisions. The "eight divisions of devas and nāgas" often spoken of in the scriptures are the Dharma-protecting multitude of the Buddhist household, who defend the Buddha-Dharma without stint. Read in detail, this should be divided into eight sections: "Should they be saved by the form of a deva, [the Bodhisattva] manifests as a deva and preaches the Dharma for them; should they be saved by the form of a nāga, [the Bodhisattva] manifests as a nāga and preaches the Dharma for them; should they be saved by the form of a yakṣa, [the Bodhisattva] manifests as a yakṣa and preaches the Dharma for them; should they be saved by the form of a gandharva, [the Bodhisattva] manifests as a gandharva and preaches the Dharma for them; should they be saved by the form of an asura, [the Bodhisattva] manifests as an asura and preaches the Dharma for them; should they be saved by the form of a garuḍa, [the Bodhisattva] manifests as a garuḍa and preaches the Dharma for them; should they be saved by the form of a kiṃnara, [the Bodhisattva] manifests as a kiṃnara and preaches the Dharma for them; should they be saved by the form of a mahoraga, [the Bodhisattva] manifests as a mahoraga and preaches the Dharma for them."

I'll now explain each of the eight divisions one by one:

"Deva" (天): In Sanskrit, deva, translated into Chinese as 天. Deva means "luminous" or "bright." Within the three realms there are said to be twenty-eight heavens, but the devas referred to here chiefly mean the earth-dwelling devas of the desire realm—those of the Four Heavenly Kings and of the Trāyastriṃśa heaven. We mentioned devas earlier too, but that was in a more particular sense; here we speak of them comprehensively, so the sense differs somewhat.

Every religion in the world except Buddhism aims ultimately at rebirth in a heaven. They regard the heavens as the highest and eternally unchanging, not knowing that the heavens too are simply the realm of ordinary beings—not free from saṃsāra, not beyond birth and death. When heavenly blessings are exhausted in time to come, they must still fall and, driven by karma, be reborn somewhere else. Buddhist disciples chiefly seek rebirth in a Buddha-land; to seek ascent to a heaven is to have taken a wrong turning. Celestial beings, clinging to sensual pleasures, wallow in a life of decadence, lose their wisdom and virtue, and forget the importance of practice. Once, Śakra—king of the Trāyastriṃśa heaven—invited the Buddha to preach the Dharma. But not long after returning to his heaven, he could not recall even half a sentence of what the Buddha had taught. Only when the five signs of decline appeared did fear arise in his heart, and he paid homage to the Buddha and sought him out. So Buddhist disciples should cherish their human body, hear the Dharma, and practice—never slipping into the abyss of sensual pleasure and forgetting the great matter of life and death.

The Śūraṅgama Sūtra says: "If there are devas who rejoice in transcending the deva state, I manifest in the form of a deva and preach the Dharma for them, enabling them to attain accomplishment." This agrees in meaning with what we are now discussing: "If there are beings who should be saved through the form of a deva, Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva at once manifests in the form of a deva and preaches the Dharma for them." Since "deva" means "luminous," then when our hearts are open and selfless, and our conduct upright and bright, we too may be called "devas." Why must we necessarily seek to ascend to the heavens?

"Nāga" (龙), called nāga in the Indian tongue. There are many kinds: sea-nāgas that raise wind and waves, heavenly-nāgas that guard the celestial palace, and so on. The Lotus Sūtra lists eight great nāga kings—Nanda, Upananda, Vāgvala, Vaśuṅkī, Takṣaka, Anavatapta, Manasvin, and Utpalaka—all of them chiefs among the nāga host. But whatever the type, we have never seen one. Yet from ancient times both China and India have had legends of nāgas, and we cannot deny their existence. Nāgas, through the ripening of merit from former lives, can appear and vanish freely anywhere. But because in previous lives their anger was too great, their hearts not upright, and they were obstinate and quarrelsome, failing to keep the precepts, they have fallen into the nāga body and endure three kinds of suffering: first, their bodies scorched by hot sand; second, their palace garments torn by wind; third, being devoured by garuḍa birds. So nāgas too long to escape the nāga body and be reborn in a good destination.

The Śūraṅgama Sūtra says: "If there are nāgas who rejoice in transcending the nāga state, I manifest in the form of a nāga and preach the Dharma for them, enabling them to attain accomplishment." This is the same in meaning as: "Should beings be saved through the form of a nāga, Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva at once manifests in the form of a nāga and preaches the Dharma of abandoning the mind of anger, enabling them to gain liberation."

"Yakṣa" (夜叉) is an Indian word, translated into Chinese as 勇健 ("brave and strong"), also called 能啖鬼 ("devouring ghost") or 捷疾鬼 ("swift ghost"). There are three kinds—those that travel on the ground, those that travel through the air, and those that fly—and further a division into good and evil yakṣas. Those who delight in devouring humans and harming beings are called evil yakṣas; those who protect the Buddha-Dharma and guard practitioners are good yakṣas. Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, pitying all beings and vowing to save them all, says: "If there is a class of beings who can only be saved through the form of a yakṣa, Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva appears in the form of a yakṣa and preaches the Dharma for them."

"Gandharva" (乾闼婆), in Sanskrit gandharva, translated as 寻香 ("seeking fragrance"), 嗅香 ("smelling fragrance"), 食香 ("eating fragrance"), 香神 ("fragrance deity"), and by other names. They take fragrance as food, dwell in the Vajra Cave south of Mount Sumeru, and can fly through the void, performing all manner of music. They are the musicians of King Śakra. Whenever Śakra wishes to hear music, he lights a stick of incense; the gandharvas, following the fragrance, arrive at once and serve him. Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva manifests everywhere and saves all. When a gandharva's faculties have ripened and he wishes to leave behind the body of a music deity, Avalokiteśvara preaches for him the Dharma of abandoning indolence—causing him to cultivate the middle level of the ten virtues, turning the indulgent mind into a mind diligent on the Buddha-way, turning celestial music into pure sounds of praising the Buddha, and so enabling him to leave the gandharva state and be born in the good destinies.

"Asura" (阿修罗), in Sanskrit asura, translated as 非天 ("non-deva"), meaning they have the fortune of devas but not their virtue. They are also called 无端正 ("without proper appearance"), meaning that in their realm the men are ugly and the women beautiful. They are also called 无酒 ("without wine"), for it is said the asuras once gathered a hundred flowers hoping to brew seawater into wine, but the flowers were eaten by the fish and shrimp of the sea, so the wine could not be made and they had to do without. There are transformation-born asuras belonging to the deva path, womb-born asuras belonging to the human path, egg-born asuras belonging to the ghost realm, and moisture-born asuras belonging to the animal realm. Because asuras are born in dependence on the four destinies of devas, humans, ghosts, and animals, some people divide the six paths of saṃsāra into five—devas, humans, hungry ghosts, animals, and hells—omitting the asuras. In former lives, asuras too cultivated the five precepts and ten virtues, but because their pride ran too high and their jealousy and suspicion ran too strong, after death they fell into the asura path—locked in mutual hatred and rivalry with Śakra, fighting him, and suffering three times daily the agony of copper cauldrons and blades.

Legend has it that originally the asuras and Śakra were on very friendly terms, but the asuras' jealousy and suspicion grew so heavy that the harmony between them was broken. It is said that the Asura King had a daughter named Śaśī, of matchless beauty. Śakra, who dwelt in the earth-dwelling heavens and had not yet severed desire between man and woman, fell deeply in love with her on seeing her and took her as his queen. Their affection deepened after marriage. One day Śakra happened to meet a palace lady in the garden. Śaśī saw this and, without asking a single question, flared up in jealousy and went weeping to the Asura King. The Asura King, his anger aroused, ordered an attack on the heavens. From then on a grudge was born. Śaśī, through jealousy, committed a grave fault—women everywhere should take warning from this. When a husband is out in the world, social engagements are inevitable; an occasional word with a woman is not in itself improper. One must not, like Śaśī, leap to conclusions, be driven by jealousy, ignore consequences, and let the imagination run wild—then the family will never know a day of happiness or peace. As for those who love to vie and contend, whose minds are full of suspicion and who are slaves to "face"—such people are the asuras of the human realm. Let each of us quietly reflect: how much of an asura am I? When Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva meets beings who are angry, jealous, and combative, [the Bodhisattva] at once appears in the form of an asura and preaches for them the practices of "gentleness, kindness and compliance, humility, and patient endurance of insult," leading them out of the asura path.

"Garuḍa" (迦楼罗), in Sanskrit garuḍa, translated as 金翅鸟 ("golden-winged bird") or 妙翅鸟 ("wonderful-winged bird"), also called Garuda King, is a mythical bird in Indian legend, the king of all birds, popularly known as the "Great Peng bird" (大鹏鸟). It dwells among the great iron trees north of Mount Sumeru. The scriptures say this bird's two wings are golden yellow, and the distance between them is three million six hundred thousand li. Each day, on seeing the sun rise in the east, it longs to eat nāgas, and so it circles beneath Mount Sumeru on the lookout for them. When it wishes to eat a nāga, it uses its golden wings to part the sea, so that the waters divide in two, the nāga palace within is laid bare, and it seizes and devours the nāga. The nāga kings, unable to bear the torment, took advantage of a time when the Buddha was practicing samādhi by the sea to lodge a complaint and entreat him to protect them. The Buddha, in his compassion, divided the kāṣāya robe he was wearing among the nāga kings, instructing them to cut it into fine strips and drape them over the bodies of their nāga children and grandchildren, so they might escape being seized by the garuḍa. When the garuḍa came to seize them and saw the Buddha's kāṣāya, it dared not attack; instead it went to the Buddha and said: "I'm starving and cannot eat. I beg the Buddha for compassion." The Buddha instructed it: "If you take refuge in the Three Jewels and keep the precept of non-killing, I shall cause Buddhist disciples, when making offerings to the Buddha and taking their meal, to bestow on you—and on the wilderness spirits and the rākṣasī ghost-mothers—seven grains of rice, relieving your hunger and thirst." For this reason, whenever Buddhist disciples make offerings to the Buddha and present food, they recite: "Great Peng golden-winged bird, wilderness spirits and ghosts, rākṣasī ghost-mothers—may the sweet dew fill all." That is the origin of this practice.

Upon the head of the great garuḍa bird is a wish-fulfilling jewel, and it constantly emits great flames of fire from its mouth, so it is also called "garuḍa flame." Though the garuḍa bird while alive suffers the misery of being unable to eat, its death is yet more miserable. It is said that when it is about to die, unable to find food, it is caught by the wind-wheel from the peak of Mount Vajra and hurled down to the foot of Mount Sumeru. In this way it plunges and falls seven times before it dies—tragic beyond words.

If there are beings who take delight in killing by nature, Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva preaches for them the Dharma of benevolence and kindness toward all creatures, awakening their good nature and bringing them liberation of body and mind.

Kinnaras (紧那罗) translate into Chinese as "doubtful deity" or "doubtful being." Beings of this class have human-like forms with a single horn growing from their heads, often giving people the impression that they are neither fully human nor fully non-human—hence their name. They are entrusted with music and song to entertain Indra, making them one of the celestial musicians. The Kinnaras dwell to the north of Mount Sumeru. Thanks to merits cultivated through generosity in past lives, they reside in palaces made of the seven treasures, excelling at singing and dancing. Yet their bodies are neither human nor fully non-human—some have horse heads with human bodies, others have human heads with bird bodies. Their grotesque forms cause them tremendous suffering, and they long to escape these bodies and be reborn in a higher realm. If Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva perceives that these beings wish to be liberated from such conditions, he manifests as a Kinnara to teach them the method of renouncing frivolous amusements and diligently cultivating the ten virtuous deeds, thereby fulfilling their wishes.

Mahoragas (摩侯罗伽), the correct transliteration being Mótuóluòjiā (牟陀洛迦), translate as "great serpent deity" or "great belly-crawler." They have human forms with serpent heads, and are also called "earth dragons." Beings of this class fell into the Mahoraga body because, in former lives, they harbored deep grudges and a powerful spirit of revenge. Therefore, as humans, we must be magnanimous. As the saying goes, "Show mercy wherever mercy is due." Never let the heart grow narrow, never be calculating in every matter, and never nurse grudges in the mind. If we do, we shall surely invite karmic retribution and fall into the serpent class. Born as such a being is unbearably painful, and they desperately seek a way out. Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva manifests in their likeness to teach them the dharma of patience and cultivating compassion, of gentleness and cultivating wisdom—guiding them to abandon anger, escape the suffering of the great serpent body, and be reborn in the joyful realms of humans and heavens.

This concludes our brief explanation of the Eight Divisions of Devas and Nagas. These were largely drawn from Indian mythology. Before the Buddha appeared in the world, the people of that land had gods and spirits as their objects of faith. After the Buddha attained enlightenment, he observed the capacities of beings and taught accordingly, employing skillful, provisional means to guide and transform them, encompassing within his teaching both human and non-human beings alike and granting all an equal opportunity to attain liberation.

The phrase "human and non-human beings" (人非人等) comprehensively covers the Eight Divisions discussed above. Among the Eight Divisions, some resemble humans yet are not—such as the Kinnaras and Mahoragas. Some are entirely non-human, such as dragons. Hence the phrase "human and non-human." Some commentators explain "human" as referring to the inhabitants of the four great continents, and "non-human" as referring to ghosts, spirits, and the like. However, if we interpret it according to this sutra, the former explanation is more appropriate than the latter.

If we interpret "human and non-human" (人非人) more thoroughly: those who possess the heart of rén (仁)—benevolence or humanity—are called "human," while those who lack such a heart are called "non-human." Confucius said: "The mind of compassion is inherent in all human beings." From this we can see that "a person of rén is truly human." Without the heart of compassion, people feel ashamed, calling such a person one with "a human face but the heart of a beast." So we should expand our hearts, develop the benevolent mind, and become truly worthy of the name "human."

Among the six realms of sentient beings, the human realm is the best place for cultivation. The Buddha once said: beings in hell suffer too much, and beings in the heavens enjoy too much. Excessive suffering makes cultivation impossible; excessive pleasure leads to indulgence and lethargy. Neither can accomplish the path. Only beings in the human realm experience suffering and happiness in equal measure. When encountering adverse circumstances, they can arouse the resolve for the path; when meeting favorable circumstances, they can peacefully engage in practice. Therefore, the ancient masters said: "To purify the mind and seek bodhi—only the human realm can accomplish this." The reason lies here. I hope that, from now on, all of you will cherish your human life, and use this illusory physical body to cultivate the eternal True Suchness body.

"If there are beings who should be saved through the Vajra-holding Deity, he manifests as a Vajra-holding Deity to teach them the Dharma." The Vajra-holding Deity is a Dharma-protecting deity. Because he constantly holds a vajra precious club in his hand, he is called the "Vajra-holding Deity." This is the last of the thirty-three manifestation bodies.

The Sanskrit for "Vajra-holding Deity" is Vajrapāṇi (跋阇罗波腻). Vajra (跋阇罗) means "adamantine" or "diamond," and pāṇi (波腻) means "hand." He is variously called the "Vajra-holding Deity," the "Vajra Hand," the "Vajra Warrior," or the "Secret Tracer Deva." Because he commands five hundred yakshas, he is also called the "Vajra Yaksha."

According to the Sutra of Right Mindfulness of the Dharma (正法念经), there was once a king whose first queen bore one thousand sons, and whose second queen bore two. The thousand sons born of the first queen, having heard the Buddha's teachings with faith, all generated the vast bodhi mind and vigorously practiced the bodhisattva path. The king thought: "These sons will surely attain Buddhahood in the future, but which son will attain Buddhahood first?" To determine the order, he instructed the thousand sons who had generated bodhicitta to draw paper lots. As a result, Krakucchanda Buddha was first, and Ratnaketu Tathāgata—known as Louzhì Rúlái (楼至如来)—was last. Our teacher Śākyamuni was the fourth to attain Buddhahood. These thousand Buddhas are what the scriptures commonly refer to as the Thousand Buddhas of the Fortunate Kalpa (贤劫千佛).

The two princes born of the second queen, seeing that their elder brothers had all vowed to attain Buddhahood and save sentient beings, were filled with admiration. The elder prince vowed to become the Great Brahmā Heaven King, requesting the thousand Buddhas to teach the Dharma; the second prince vowed to become a Vajra Warrior, protecting the thousand Buddhas' Dharma. This is the origin of Brahmā and the Vajra Deity.

After reading this account, you must think it very strange—how could a queen give birth to a thousand sons? Hidden within this lies a legend. It is said that the queen was originally an abandoned infant left on a mountain. She was raised by an old monk in a mountain temple, and when she grew up, she was graceful and incomparably beautiful. In her previous life, she had loved lotus flowers, often plucking them to offer to the Buddha, and had vowed that in her next life she would have lotus flowers spring up beneath her feet as she wished. One evening, on a whim, she wished to create a lotus garden in front of the temple. The moment the thought arose, she took advantage of the lingering afterglow of the sunset, walking step by step—each step producing a lotus flower—until she had created a beautiful garden in the open ground before the temple.

Not long after, the king went up the mountain to pay respects to the Buddha, saw the lotus garden in front of the temple, and was full of admiration. He too wished to have a lotus pond carved in his palace, so he inquired about this lotus-growing gardener. The old monk reported the truth. The king said: "I wish to meet this extraordinary maiden." The old monk had no choice but to send for her. When the king saw her beauty, he wanted to take her as his queen. The old monk dared not disobey the imperial decree and had no choice but to comply. As they departed the temple, the old monk stood at the temple gate watching them leave. The girl who was about to become queen, however, intoxicated by this sudden fortune, forgot the old monk who had raised her into adulthood and the place where she had lived for more than ten years. She left without even turning her head. This truly wounded the old monk's heart. Without realizing it, he blurted out: "Sinful woman!"

Because of the old monk's words, the maiden became pregnant shortly after entering the palace. As a result, she gave birth to a lotus flower. The king, furious, threw the lotus flower into the palace pond and immediately ordered the queen imprisoned in the cold palace. A year later, that strange lotus flower grew into an extraordinary "thousand-petal lotus," and within each petal was a lovely child—"From the thousand-petal lotus, a thousand sons were born." These thousand children were the sons borne by the queen.

You may consider this a strange tale, but the story clearly instructs cultivators to be cautious about karmic offenses of speech, and never to utter rash words that cause sentient beings to suffer.

The Vajra-holding Deity is a Buddhist guardian deity. Some temple gates have two kings enshrined on either side—the right side being the Vajra Deity, the left being the Secret Tracer Warrior. The right side represents virtue; the left side represents cutting through delusions. Therefore, the right one opens its mouth forming the syllable "A" (阿), and the left one closes its mouth forming the syllable "Hūṃ" (吽). Thus some also call them the Two Generals of A-Hūṃ. These two kings are actually transformations of a single king, originally one entity. In Taiwan, these Two Generals of A-Hūṃ are rarely seen. To my knowledge, the temple gate of Kaiyuan Temple in Tainan is painted with images of these Dharma-protecting deities, magnificent beyond compare.

"Vajra" means "indestructible." "Holding the vajra" represents a character that is unshakable, unyielding, and unbending. If we can use the spirit of the vajra to cut through delusions and generate virtue, what task could not be accomplished! Therefore, Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva manifesting as the Vajra-holding Deity is nothing other than instructing sentient beings to be brave, diligent, fearless, and unyielding individuals, courageously advancing on the path of cultivation.

Although Buddhism takes compassion as its foundation, to adapt to the capacities of sentient beings and facilitate their teaching, it establishes two gates: the "subduing" gate (折) and the "attracting" gate (摄). The subduing gate is for sentient beings with strong, stubborn natures—it uses majestic virtue to subdue their arrogance and make them submit in faith. The attracting gate is designed for sentient beings with gentle natures—it uses compassionate dharma to draw them in, making them faithfully practice and comply. The Vajra-holding Deity uses the method of subduing to assist the Buddha in teaching sentient beings. If there are beings who resolve to protect and uphold the Buddha-Dharma, wishing to use the might of the vajra to subdue evil demons, Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva then manifests as a Vajra-holding Deity to teach them the dharma gate of destroying evil and supporting the right, enabling them to accomplish majestic virtue and fulfill their wishes.

The nineteen discourses and thirty-three manifestation bodies of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva are now completely explained. Although we speak of thirty-three manifestation bodies and nineteen discourses, in reality, Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva responds to beings and circumstances to manifest bodies and teach according to conditions—how could it be limited to just thirty-three manifestation bodies! We should not cling rigidly to this; we should regard the thirty-three manifestation bodies as infinitely countless. The sutra text merely offers examples.

"Endless Intent! This is Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, who has accomplished such merit and virtue, traveling through all lands in various forms to liberate sentient beings. Therefore, you all should single-mindedly make offerings to Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva."

This passage's main purpose is to summarize the virtue and urge offerings. "Endless Intent… liberate sentient beings" summarizes the virtue. "Therefore, you all should single-mindedly make offerings to Avalokieśvara Bodhisattva" urges offerings.

Summarizing the virtue recaps the wondrous transformative merit of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva discussed above—traveling through the Sahā world in various forms to liberate sentient beings. Urging offerings is to encourage all those present at the assembly, as well as all future sentient beings, to equally make offerings to Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva.

The previous passage, from manifesting the Buddha's form to manifesting the Vajra-holding Deity's form, belongs to the specific answer (别答). This passage of sutra text belongs to the general answer (总答). The World-Honored One answered the questioner Bodhisattva Endless Intent, saying: "This is Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, who has accomplished such merit and virtue." "Such" (如是) refers to all the merits of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva: rescuing from the seven difficulties, freeing from the three poisons, responding to the two requests, and manifesting the thirty-three bodies. All these merits have reached the state of perfect accomplishment. This is "accomplishing all merit and virtue."

"In various forms" (以种种形) means that Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva's transformation bodies are countless, not merely limited to the thirty-three.

"Traveling through all lands, liberating sentient beings" (游诸国土，度脱众生) explains the vast extent of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva's travels throughout the worlds. Not only does he liberate sentient beings in the Sahā world; he also manifests in countless lands throughout the ten directions, performing the work of benefiting beings and transforming others. "Liberating sentient beings" more clearly tells us that the Bodhisattva's billions of transformation bodies, traveling throughout the lands of the ten directions, are not for sightseeing; they shoulder the task of propagating the Dharma and benefiting sentient beings, with the purpose of liberating beings so they may quickly leave the sea of suffering and attain the bliss of pure nirvana.

"Therefore, you all should single-mindedly make offerings to Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva." Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva has accomplished so many merits, and his grace toward sentient beings is as vast as the deep ocean. Therefore, we must constantly bear in mind the Bodhisattva's kindness and single-mindedly make offerings to Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva.

When it comes to making offerings, there are generally two types: offering of principle (理供养) and offering of phenomena (事供养). Material offerings such as incense, flowers, fruits, and jewels belong to offering of phenomena. To deeply understand the Buddha's teachings, to act in accordance with them, and to "breathe the same breath" as all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas—this is offering of principle. The "single-mindedly" making offerings mentioned here refers to offering of principle. It requires us to purify the three karmas of body, speech, and mind—reciting the holy name of Avalokiteśvara with our mouths, contemplating Avalokiteśvara's compassion in our hearts, bowing to Avalokiteśvara's wondrous form with our bodies, and at all times acting in accordance with the teachings. Taking Avalokiteśvara's heart as our own heart, never forgetting to benefit sentient beings and liberate them, protecting and upholding the Buddha-Dharma—that is the true way of making offerings to Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva.

"This Avalokiteśvara Mahāsattva, in moments of terror and urgent distress, is able to bestow fearlessness. Therefore, throughout this Sahā world, all call him the Giver of Fearlessness." This passage clearly indicates that Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva can bestow fearlessness upon sentient beings, and he is therefore also called "the Giver of Fearlessness" (施无畏者).

After universally urging offerings, the Buddha immediately told Endless Intent: "This Avalokiteśvara Mahāsattva." Mahā is Sanskrit, translated as "great," which has already been explained in earlier sutra passages and will not be repeated here. Sattva means Bodhisattva. This sentence indicates to sentient beings that Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva is not an ordinary bodhisattva, but an outstanding great bodhisattva.

"Terror" (怖畏) means fright and fear—extreme dread. "Urgent distress" (急难) refers to emergencies and disasters that are difficult to deal with. If we find ourselves in extreme terror, trapped in dire emergencies, Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva can strengthen our courage, calm our minds, and help us move away from all terror and disaster—allowing the light of wisdom to shine upon us forever, and happiness and serenity to accompany us forever.

Generally speaking, there are three kinds of giving:

1. Material giving (财施): Material possessions are divided into external, internal, and both. Using clothing, money, and the like to aid the poor is called "external material giving." Offering one's own life—head, eyes, hands, feet, and so forth—to others is called "internal material giving." Giving one's wife and children to others is called "internal-external material giving."

2. Dharma giving (法施): Spreading the teaching, showing sentient beings the path of cultivation, and enabling them to benefit from the Dharma—this is called "Dharma giving."

3. Fearlessness giving (无畏施): Being able to remove others' terror and serve as their spiritual pillar—this is called "fearlessness giving."

Among these three kinds of giving, material giving belongs to the physical realm. Dharma giving and fearlessness giving both belong to the spiritual realm. If we ask which of these three kinds of giving has the greatest merit, the answer is undoubtedly Dharma giving. This is because material giving only relieves sentient beings' physical suffering, while Dharma giving can remove their mental afflictions, enable them to blossom the flower of wisdom, nurture their Dharma-body and wisdom-life, and ultimately transcend birth and death to accomplish the fruit of the bodhi path. Therefore, Dharma giving is the supreme giving.

In the sutra, the Bodhisattva's ability to bestow fearlessness upon sentient beings, when spoken of more thoroughly, cannot be separated from Dharma giving. Think about it, everyone: there is nothing more terrifying in the world than birth and death; there is no greater urgent distress for sentient beings than birth and death. To truly eliminate sentient beings' terror and urgent distress, one must enable them to transcend birth and death. Therefore, when the Bodhisattva bestows "fearlessness" upon sentient beings, is this "fearlessness giving" not in fact "Dharma giving"?

In the Śūraṅgama Sūtra, among the Fourteen Fearlessnesses, Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva said to the World-Honored One: "World-Honored One! Furthermore, by means of the hearing-cultivation and hearing-practice (闻熏闻修), the adamantine samādhi, the wondrous power of unconditioned action, and by sharing the same compassion and dependence with all sentient beings of the six realms throughout the ten directions and the three times, I enable sentient beings to obtain fourteen kinds of fearlessness merit and virtue within my body and mind." And among the Four Inconceivables, he said: "Second, by virtue of my hearing and contemplation, I have transcended the six dusts, like sound passing through a wall, unable to cause harm. Therefore, my wondrous ability can manifest each form, recite each mantra, and these forms and mantras can bestow fearlessness upon sentient beings. For this reason, throughout the lands of the ten directions equal to motes of dust, all call me the Giver of Fearlessness."

This explains that, because Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva cultivated the perfect penetration of the ear faculty, he aroused wondrous functions and thus can bestow fearlessness upon sentient beings. It also explains that sentient beings throughout the lands of the ten directions all call him "the Giver of Fearlessness"—it is not only sentient beings in our Sahā world who praise him so.

We won't go into the Fourteen Fearlessnesses of the Śūraṅgama Sūtra here. The Universal Gate chapter also presents its own Fourteen Fearlessnesses—namely, as the sutra text mentioned earlier: rescuing from the eight difficulties, curing the three poisons, responding to the two kinds of seeking, and the practice of holding the name. Altogether, these make fourteen. Together they form what we call the Fourteen Fearless Bestowals of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva. Put simply, the heart of fearless giving is to help sentient beings find security in both body and mind, free from terror. That is what fearless giving truly means.

The Biographies of Eminent Monks records many instances of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva bestowing fearlessness and helping beings escape suffering. Here's one: During the Wei dynasty, a monk named Lang was passing through a dangerous stretch of road and was captured by bandits. He was locked in a tent. Lang and his companions plotted an escape, but the bandits kept a close watch; they were surrounded on all sides by stone walls, with no way of telling how far down the drop was. How could they possibly get out? They were terrified. Then someone noticed a large tree growing along the edge of the cliff. They tied a rope to it and began to lower themselves down. The night was pitch black, and the base of the cliff was nothing but thorns—no place to set foot. Hanging on the rope, they called out to each other in the dark: "We can't go up and we can't go down. What shall we do? Our only hope is to recite the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva with one mind and ask the Bodhisattva to save us." So they began to bow their heads against the stone as they recited. Before long, a light shone down the cliff to the ground, and they saw a great tiger standing right in front of them. They were terrified they'd be devoured! Lang called out to the others: "We're going to be saved. That tiger will absolutely not eat people. The Bodhisattva is showing us the way—let's follow the tiger out." Strangely enough, the tiger walked on ahead while the people followed behind. Whenever they slowed down, the tiger would stop and wait. They walked like that until dawn, when at last they stepped onto a level road—but by then the tiger had vanished. Could that tiger have been anything other than an emanation of Avalokiteśvara, coming to bestow fearlessness? There are very many such stories of Avalokiteśvara's spiritual response and transformative deeds; this is just one example. Don't forget to recite the Bodhisattva's name constantly—recite in times of trouble, and all the more in ordinary times.

Akṣayamati Bodhisattva addressed the Buddha: "World-Honored One, I should now make offerings to Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva." He took from his neck a string of jeweled pendants worth a hundred thousand taels of gold and offered them, saying: "Noble One, please accept these precious jeweled pendants, offered as a dharma gift." Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva declined to accept. Akṣayamati spoke to Avalokiteśvara again: "Noble One, out of compassion for us, please accept these pendants."

The World-Honored One had exhorted the great assembly to make offerings to Avalokiteśvara with one mind. Deeply moved by Avalokiteśvara's vast compassion and immeasurable merit, Akṣayamati replied to the World-Honored One: "I shall follow your instruction and reverently make offerings to Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva." Right away he unfastened the jeweled pendants hanging from his neck—exceedingly precious ornaments valued at roughly a hundred thousand taels of gold—and sincerely presented them to Avalokiteśvara, saying: "Noble One, please accept these precious pendants, offered as a dharma gift." "Noble One" is how bodhisattvas address one another; it simply means "a person of benevolent virtue." Akṣayamati earnestly wished to make this offering, but Avalokiteśvara still refused. Akṣayamati entreated once more: "Out of compassion for us, please accept." Taken at face value, this passage seems plain and straightforward, with little to discuss. But the meaning of the Buddhist scriptures is deep and difficult to grasp; we mustn't try to interpret it with worldly eyes and shallow understanding. Otherwise, even if you read through the entire Tripiṭaka of twelve divisions, you wouldn't get the slightest taste of the Dharma. "Reciting the sutras is hard; understanding their meaning is harder still." Everyone, don't look down on this passage with the limited knowledge of an ordinary being.

"Jeweled pendants" (yīngluò) is a type of Indian ornament. Pieces worn on the head and neck are called yīng; those worn on the body are called luò. Their quality varied with a person's status and wealth. In keeping with Indian custom, buddhas and bodhisattvas also used them to adorn their outward appearance. But one phrase in the sutra stands out: "Noble One, accept these precious jeweled pendants, offered as a dharma gift." This tells us that the pendants in question are not the ordinary jewels they appear to be. Akṣayamati, too, is a bodhisattva of lofty virtue. While walking the bodhisattva path, he had already accumulated boundless merit and dharma treasures, adorning the pure dharma body he had realized. When he removed the pendants from his neck, it signified that although a bodhisattva may realize the dharma body, he doesn't rest there; from within the dharma body he manifests a transformation body to save beings throughout the ten directions. Here Akṣayamati uses his inexhaustible merit and dharma treasures to make a sincere offering to Avalokiteśvara—hence it's called "dharma bestowal."

We can interpret "dharma bestowal" in another way. In Buddhism, the practice of giving has always stressed giving "without attachment to marks"—what's known as giving with "the essential emptiness of the three wheels." When one truly gives, there's no clinging to the giver, the gift, or the recipient. Though one performs the act of giving, one claims no credit for the merit, regarding giving as simply one's own duty—giving gladly and sincerely, and afterward harboring no expectation of return or memory of the deed. Giving in this way, with the three wheels essentially empty, transforms even material giving into dharma giving. Moreover, bodhisattvas give not for their own benefit but to seek merit for sentient beings. Akṣayamati dedicates the merit of this offering to all sentient beings, so that beings throughout the ten-direction dharma realm may share in it—hence the name "dharma bestowal."

Precious pendants are also commonly used in Buddhist scriptures as a metaphor for merit and wisdom. The Běnyè Yīngluò Jīng (Sutra of the Fundamental Pendants) says: "Light represents the merit of a million asaṃkhyeya kalpas; the pendants are like that light, adorning the Buddha's body." Here, Akṣayamati offers the pendants—symbols of wisdom—to Avalokiteśvara, the embodiment of compassion. Compassion and wisdom are shared by every bodhisattva. The wisdom of the pendants joining Avalokiteśvara's compassion shows the perfect fusion of his compassion and wisdom—seeking above, transforming below, acting with complete freedom. Hence it's called "dharma bestowal."

"At that time, Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva was unwilling to accept." "At that time" refers to the moment when Akṣayamati removed the pendants and offered them. Why did Avalokiteśvara refuse? First, all sentient beings possess the tathāgata's wisdom and virtuous nature and are inherently endowed with the wondrous jewel of true suchness. In principle, there is no distinction between "receiving" and "giving," no marks of "taking" and "rejecting"—so Avalokiteśvara declined. Second, when a bodhisattva accepts another's offering, it should be entirely out of compassion for sentient beings, to allow them to plant fields of merit. To grasp at offerings for personal gain would be improper. Avalokiteśvara's initial refusal conveys exactly this. Akṣayamati offered sincerely, but Avalokiteśvara, wishing to illustrate these very principles, courteously declined. When Akṣayamati saw that he still refused, he spoke to Avalokiteśvara again, earnestly and sincerely: "Please take pity on us, sentient beings of shallow wisdom and meager merit who have done little good, and accept this offering of pendants." This passage is Akṣayamati's second entreaty. The "we" in the text refers to Akṣayamati himself and the fourfold assembly of disciples present. A bodhisattva makes offerings not for personal benefit but to plant wholesome roots and merit broadly for sentient beings—giving on behalf of the poor and suffering who seek blessings. To put it plainly, Akṣayamati gives out of compassion for beings, and Avalokiteśvara accepts out of compassion for beings. Akṣayamati makes his second entreaty for two reasons: first, to show his utmost sincerity, hoping that by the Buddha's command Avalokiteśvara will accept; second, to make clear that his giving is for the sake of beings—since he gives for beings, the Bodhisattva also accepts for beings, and this in no way violates the true principle. Hence the second entreaty.

Pearls and treasures—who in the world doesn't love them? Those who scheme endlessly for gold, silver, and wealth, stooping to any means, are everywhere. The Buddha said, "Gold is like a venomous snake," constantly warning his disciples to "keep their aims clear through simplicity," and to "acquire wealth through proper means and use it for good deeds." Never greedily pursue ill-gotten gain only to hoard it miserly, spending a lifetime as a miser; even if you have money, of what use is it? From the above we can see that everything the bodhisattvas do is for sentient beings, never for themselves. How vast is such a compassionate heart, how great such a sorrowful vow! We should give rise to a heart of utter sincerity, gratitude, and reverent offering—and further, we should embody this in body and mind, becoming upright disciples of the Buddha.

At that time, the Buddha said to Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva: "Out of compassion for this Akṣayamati Bodhisattva and the fourfold assembly—devas, dragons, yakṣas, gandharvas, asuras, garuḍas, kiṃnaras, mahoragas, humans, non-humans, and others—please accept these pendants." Immediately, out of compassion for the fourfold assembly and the devas, dragons, humans, non-humans, and so on, Avalokiteśvara accepted the pendants and divided them into two parts: one he offered to Śākyamuni Buddha, one to the stupa of Prabhūtaratna Buddha.

At that time, the Buddha addressed Avalokiteśvara: have compassion for Akṣayamati Bodhisattva and the fourfold assembly—bhikṣus, bhikṣuṇīs, upāsakas, and upāsikās—as well as the devas, dragons, yakṣas, gandharvas, asuras, garuḍas, kiṃnaras, mahoragas, humans, non-humans, and others; please accept these pendants. The fourfold assembly and the eight kinds of beings have been explained in earlier passages of the sutra, so we won't repeat them here. Avalokiteśvara refused Akṣayamati's offering for the following reasons: first, to inspire the giver to develop a heart of deep reverence; second, because two Buddhas were present, and propriety required modesty; third, to demonstrate contentment with few desires; fourth, without the Buddha's command, one should not simply take. Now the Buddha tells Avalokiteśvara: have compassion for the fourfold assembly and the eight kinds of beings, and accept Akṣayamati's offering. So Avalokiteśvara, complying with the Buddha's will above and taking pity on the masses below, accepted Akṣayamati's offering, and then divided the pendants into two parts—one offered to Śākyamuni Buddha, one to the stupa of Prabhūtaratna Buddha. Why divide them? Because in everything a bodhisattva does, sentient beings come first. By dividing the pendants and offering them to the two Buddhas, Avalokiteśvara multiplied the merit of sentient beings, so that we may receive greater benefit and taste more of the Dharma. This too displays Avalokiteśvara's wonderful virtue in the practice of offering.

Śākyamuni Buddha is the teacher of the Sahā world, the present Buddha. "Śākya" is the name of an ancient Indian clan, translated as "Capable of Benevolence"—it means the Buddha has a great compassionate heart, giving joy to beings and relieving their suffering. "Muni" means "silent sage": it shows that the Buddha not only has a heart of great compassion for benefiting others, but also possesses profound and boundless wisdom, able to cut off all his own afflictions and remain unconfused by delusive thoughts and ignorance—that is the meaning of "silent sage." With a compassionate heart, he works to transform others, manifesting the Buddha's entry into the world to save beings. In silent stillness and luminous contemplation, he reveals the Buddha's transcendent peace and emptiness. From the meaning of these four characters, Śākyamuni, we can glimpse the Buddha's magnificent vision, his extraordinary deep compassion and vows, and how he carried out the work of bringing benefit and joy to beings.

The stupa of Prabhūtaratna Buddha: Prabhūtaratna is a past Buddha. According to the eleventh chapter of the Lotus Sūtra, "The Emergence of the Treasure Tower," it says: "At that time, before the Buddha there appeared a stupa of seven precious substances, five hundred yojanas in height and two hundred and fifty yojanas in width and depth, rising out of the ground and remaining in the air. Adorned with all kinds of precious things—five thousand balustrades, ten million niches…" "At that time, a great sound emerged from the treasure stupa, proclaiming: 'Excellent, excellent! World-Honored Śākyamuni, you are able to use the great wisdom of equality to teach the bodhisattva path—the Dharma protected and remembered by the Buddhas, the Lotus Sūtra of the Wonderful Dharma—to the great assembly. So it is, so it is! All that the World-Honored Śākyamuni has said is entirely true.'" It also says: "At that time, the Buddha told the bodhisattva Mahāpratisarā: within this treasure stupa is the complete body of a Tathāgata. Long ago, incalculable hundreds of thousands of millions of asaṃkhyeya kalpas ago, in the eastern direction, there was a land called Pure Treasure. In that land there was a Buddha named Prabhūtaratna. When that Buddha was practicing the bodhisattva path, he made a great vow: 'If, after I attain Buddhahood and pass into nirvāṇa, in any land of the ten directions where the Lotus Sūtra is being expounded, may my stupa appear before that place to hear the sutra, bear witness, and proclaim "Excellent!"'" Because of this karmic connection, whenever the Buddha expounds the Lotus Sūtra, the stupa of Prabhūtaratna unfailingly appears in front to offer words of praise and bear witness. All stupas are dwellings of the Buddhas; this stupa, the dwelling of this Buddha, is adorned with countless treasures, hence it is called the "Treasure Stupa." And because it is the dwelling of the Tathāgata Prabhūtaratna, it is called the "Treasure Stupa." In terms of principle: the stupa of Prabhūtaratna represents the Buddha's dharma body, that is, the essence; Śākyamuni represents the Buddha's reward body, that is, the phenomenal aspect; Avalokiteśvara represents the response body among the Buddha's three bodies, that is, the function. The response body of Avalokiteśvara, offering the pendants to the principle-Buddha of the dharma body and the phenomenal-Buddha of the reward body, shows that the three bodies are one.

"Akṣayamati! Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva possesses such sovereign spiritual powers, roaming throughout the Sahā world!" Śākyamuni called out to the one who had initiated this chapter, Akṣayamati Bodhisattva, saying: Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva possesses the sovereign and inconceivable spiritual powers described above, and roams throughout the Sahā world. The phrase "such sovereign spiritual powers" summarizes everything said above: Avalokiteśvara's compassionate rescue of beings from suffering, the manifestation of thirty-two transformation bodies to save those with the conditions, and the wonderful virtues of being able to "bestow without attachment," "evoke offerings," and "cultivate offerings." As for "sovereignty" or "mastery," there are teachings on the four kinds, the six kinds, the ten kinds, and so on—but in the end, it comes down to two: mastery of body and mastery of mind. What is mastery of body? The Consciousness-Only teaching says, "to act without obstruction is called mastery"—that is mastery of body. The "Introduction" chapter of the Lotus Sūtra says, "Having ended all the fetters of existence, the mind gains mastery"—that is mastery of mind. Put simply, when the body is not bound by circumstances, advancing or retreating without obstruction, that is mastery of body. When the mind is free from all conditions, far from any bondage, that is mastery of mind. "Sovereign emancipation and wonderful spiritual power"—that is what is meant by "sovereign spiritual power." With this wonderful spiritual power, Avalokiteśvara roams the Sahā world. The word "roam" is the finishing touch of this passage. In general, when ordinary beings give rise to compassion and practice giving, there is always some attachment. But bodhisattvas who have gone beyond the world have given up all thought of reward, seeking only to offer, never calculating the cost—only joy, no reluctance, working happily for the welfare of beings. That is why it is said Avalokiteśvara "roams" the Sahā world.

Now the prose section of the Universal Gate chapter is finished. What follows is the verse section. Generally speaking, the verses are a restatement of the prose. At that time, Akṣayamati Bodhisattva put his question in verse: "At that time"—after the Buddha had finished the prose section, Akṣayamati used the cadenced form of verse to question Śākyamuni, in order to elaborate on Avalokiteśvara's many merits and help the great assembly understand more deeply the profound practice of Avalokiteśvara. As for the verses of this chapter, when the Tripiṭaka Master Kumārajīva of the Yao Qin dynasty first translated the Universal Gate chapter, he did not translate the verse section. It was not until the reign of Emperor Wen of the Sui dynasty, when Master Jñānagupta arrived from North India and, together with Dharmagupta, jointly produced the "supplementary" translation, that these verses appeared. Later scholars incorporated the verses into Kumārajīva's translation, producing the present text of the Lotus Sūtra with verses.

Verses, also called repeating verses, are poetic restatements of the meaning laid out in the preceding prose sections. The Sanskrit term for this form is gāthā, which Chinese translators rendered as “responsive praise” (应颂); blending the Indian and Chinese senses of the term, it came to be called “verses” (偈颂). Verses can be written in lines of three, four, five, six, or seven characters, but no matter the line length, four lines are always required to form a complete verse.

Verses fall into two categories: geya (重颂) and gāthā (孤起颂). The Sanskrit geya, translated as “repeating verse,” uses poetic form to restate the teachings laid out in the prose; these repeating verses come in two types: “expansive” and “concise.” Expansive verses flesh out any points the prose left unclear, while concise verses give only a brief summary of material the prose already covered in full. The Sanskrit gāthā, translated as “independent verses” (孤起颂), have no matching content in the prose at all. They stand alone, introducing and exploring meanings that appear only within the verse itself. The verses in this chapter belong to the category of repeating verses.

So why include these repeating verses at all? There are three reasons. First, to meet beings where they are. Sentient beings have different capacities—some are quick to understand, others slower. Those with sharp faculties grasp the teaching as soon as they hear it, and the prose explanation is enough for them. But for those with duller faculties, the Buddha needs to restate the teaching before they can truly take it in; that’s what the repeating verses are for. Second, for those who arrive late to the teaching. Some beings are unable to attend the initial Dharma assembly because of their karmic conditions. Out of compassion for these latecomers, the Buddha adds repeating verses after the prose so they too can benefit from the Dharma. Third, Indian religious traditions already used two modes of teaching: scattered-flower style (散华) and garland-flower style (贯华). The prose sections align with scattered-flower style, comparable to Chinese prose, while the verses align with garland-flower style, comparable to Chinese poetry and rhymed verse. Both forms were used in response to beings’ varying preferences, taught in accordance with the conditions at hand.

The World-Honored One, whose wondrous marks are complete, I now ask him once again: What causes and conditions, O Son of Buddha, Led to the name Avalokiteshvara?

This is the passage where Infinite Intent Bodhisattva once more asks the Buddha about the causes and conditions that gave Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva his name. “The World-Honored One, whose wondrous marks are complete” is Infinite Intent Bodhisattva’s praise of the Buddha. “World-Honored One” (世尊) is a reverent title for the Buddha: the Buddha is the most revered sage both in the world and beyond it, hence the title, one of the Buddha’s ten epithets. “Wondrous marks complete” means fully endowed with subtle, excellent characteristics. It refers to the World-Honored One’s inner possession of limitless virtues and outward display of the thirty-two major marks and eighty minor marks of excellence. The Devadatta Chapter of the Lotus Sutra reads: “His subtle, pure Dharma body, endowed with the thirty-two marks, adorned with the eighty minor marks of excellence, beautifying the Dharma body itself.” The most well-known praise verse to the Buddha goes:

Above the heavens and below the heavens, none equals the Buddha; Across the ten directions of the world, there is no equal. Of all beings I have ever seen in the world, none rivals the Buddha. All such verses praise the Buddha’s complete merits and the majesty of his marks and excellence.

“I now ask him once again”: here, “I” refers to Infinite Intent Bodhisattva speaking of himself. “Once again” means he is repeating a question he already asked in the earlier prose section. “Him” refers to Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva, as does “Son of Buddha”: all beings in the three realms who follow the Buddha’s teachings and are transformed by them are called sons of the Buddha. Since Avalokiteshvara assists the Buddha in teaching and transforming beings, acting in line with the Buddha’s guidance, he too is called a Son of the Buddha. Infinite Intent Bodhisattva asks the World-Honored One what causes and conditions led to Avalokiteshvara bearing this name. The question is the same as the one asked in the prose section, but the Buddha’s answer shifts slightly in focus. In the prose, the Buddha highlights Avalokiteshvara’s wondrous compassionate power. In the repeating verse, the emphasis turns to his vows and conduct. In the prose, “causes and conditions” (因缘) simply explains the reason for the name. In the verse, the term is unpacked more fully: the cause is the great pure vow the Bodhisattva made countless kalpas ago, and the condition is the presence of suffering beings with no happiness to call their own. In other words, his own great vow to practice and teach is the cause, sentient beings are the condition; relying on these causes and conditions, he appears universally across the world to rescue and deliver all beings.

The Honored One of complete and wondrous marks, in verse replied to Infinite Intent: Listen to Avalokiteshvara’s practice, Who aptly responds throughout the ten directions, His vast vows deep as the sea, unfathomable across endless kalpas, He has attended thousands of billions of Buddhas, And made the great, pure vow.

Since Infinite Intent Bodhisattva asked his question in verse, the World-Honored One responded in kind. Hence the opening line: “The Honored One of complete and wondrous marks, in verse replied to Infinite Intent.” “Listen to Avalokiteshvara’s practice” is addressed directly to Infinite Intent Bodhisattva. “Listen” here means to listen with full, careful attention. “Avalokiteshvara’s practice” refers to how he cultivated the path, how he worked to benefit both himself and all beings. In short, the Buddha is asking Infinite Intent Bodhisattva and everyone in the assembly to listen closely to Avalokiteshvara’s compassionate actions and his aspirations to relieve the suffering of all.

“Aptly responds throughout the ten directions” means he skillfully and universally appears in every world of the ten directions. Avalokiteshvara hears the cries of suffering beings and manifests in thirty-two different forms across the boundless lands of the ten directions, responding to every being there. The Bodhisattva is free in body and mind, and wields wondrous spiritual powers: with a single body, he can transform into hundreds of billions of bodies to meet the needs of all beings. As the old saying goes, “A thousand rivers with water hold a thousand moons”—as long as a being’s heart is sincere and earnest, Avalokiteshvara will never turn them away. The line that comes later, “Appearing in every land without exception,” is the clearest possible explanation of this line.

The word “aptly” (善) in this line carries the sense of being at ease, unhindered. A person bound by body and mind, shackled by external circumstances and every kind of attachment, can barely take care of themselves, let alone help or liberate others. How, then, can Avalokiteshvara “respond universally to the ten directions and teach in line with each being’s capacity”? These questions will be fully answered in the verses that follow.

Avalokiteshvara’s ability to attain such great accomplishment comes back to the moment he first aroused the mind of bodhi, long ago. At that time, he made vows as deep as the ocean and as vast as empty space. Built on these great vows, he has practiced and striven day and night without ever slacking, never retreating or giving up even when faced with harsh conditions or the stubborn ignorance of beings. The Buddhist scriptures record: “Connections vast and universal are called ‘vast’ (弘); restraining one’s own mind is called ‘vow’ (誓); striving to fulfill one’s aspiration is called ‘will’ (愿).” Anyone who sets a great aspiration but does not first calm their own mind, guard their vows, and persevere with steady dedication will not see good results.

So what are these “vast vows”? The liturgical text lays out the Four Great Vows: “Sentient beings are without limit—I vow to deliver them all. Afflictions are endless—I vow to end them. Dharma gates are boundless—I vow to learn them all. The Buddha Way is unsurpassed—I vow to accomplish it fully.” All bodhisattvas uphold these four universal vows. Among them, “Sentient beings are without limit—I vow to deliver them all” is the root vow of benefiting others; the second and third vows are for self-cultivation; the fourth is the fulfillment of both self and other benefit. A true bodhisattva practitioner holds not only these shared “universal vows” common to all bodhisattvas, but also their own unique “particular vows.” For example, Amitabha Buddha’s forty-eight vows, and Bhaisajyaguru Vaidurya Light Tathagata’s twelve great vows, are both examples of these individual pledges. When Avalokiteshvara first set his mind on bodhi, he made twelve great vows, all focused on the work of saving beings. His activity of “seeking out cries of suffering, responding skillfully to all directions, and extinguishing all suffering” is the clearest expression of his profound vows and great aspiration.

A bodhisattva who makes vast vows to care for all sentient beings does not fulfill them in a short span. Instead, they must pass through as many kalpas as there are grains of dust and sand, practicing the bodhisattva path with steady diligence, before they can attain full accomplishment. This vast, ultimate, far-reaching work cannot be grasped by our ordinary minds or put into words; that is why the text says his vow practice is “unfathomable across endless kalpas.” Since Avalokiteshvara has traversed countless eons of kalpas, the number of Buddhas he has served and attended cannot be small—hence the verse says, “He has attended thousands of billions of Buddhas.” The main reason bodhisattvas serve the Buddha is “to constantly follow the Buddha in learning and to assist the Buddha in teaching and transforming beings,” bringing the Buddha’s light and Dharma water to every corner of every land so all may receive the benefit of the teachings.

“Pure vow” refers to a vow untainted by even the slightest selfish or devious thought. “Pure” here means free of greed and free of anger. A bodhisattva makes vows not for personal gain, not for worldly fame, profit, or the pleasures of wealth and status. Their only deep concern is for sentient beings, and they are filled with compassion for all. They give themselves fully to service, never keeping track of what they might get in return—this is freedom from greed. They save beings out of pure, unforced intention, engaging in the work joyfully, never feeling compelled. They faithfully uphold the Buddha’s teachings, striving for Buddhahood above while transforming beings below—this is freedom from anger. To make a vast, great vow with a heart free of greed and anger is exactly what is meant by “has made the great, pure vow.” After Avalokiteshvara began his cultivation from the ground of cause and drew near to countless Buddhas, making profoundly deep and vastly great pure vows, he was able to manifest freely in the ten directions with ease of body and mind, passing through dust-like kalpas to deliver all beings!

I will briefly explain for you: Hearing the name, seeing the form, and mindful thought will not be in vain— They can extinguish all the suffering of existence.

Here, “I” refers to Shakyamuni Buddha, and “you” refers to Infinite Intent Bodhisattva. “Briefly explain” means a condensed overview. Avalokiteshvara’s compassionate heart and compassionate aspirations have already been explained in full in the prose section, so here the Buddha gives only a brief recap. What’s more, Avalokiteshvara’s profoundly deep, vast vows and pure great aspiration could never be fully explained in a short time—far less three days or half a month. So only a short introduction is given here.

“Hearing the name and seeing the form”: “hearing the name” means hearing the name of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva. Once you have heard it, you should recite it aloud—this is the offering of speech among the three karmas (actions of body, speech, and mind). “Seeing the form” means that upon hearing the Bodhisattva’s name and seeing an image of him, you reverently prostrate and make offerings with your body—this is the reverent action of the body among the three karmas. “Mindful thought will not be in vain” means that beyond the physical and verbal acts of reverence, we must go further: single-heartedly fix our minds on contemplating Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva. When body, speech, and mind are united in this sincere reverence, recitation, and contemplation, we will surely receive the Bodhisattva’s response. The Ten-Verse Avalokiteshvara Sutra says:

In the morning we think of Avalokiteshvara, in the evening we think of Avalokiteshvara; Each thought arises from the mind, each thought never leaves the mind. This is the very picture of sincere “mindful thought,” the offering of the mind among the three karmas.

Every religion speaks of devout faith, but Buddhism does not just talk about it—it puts it into practice more fully. It asks us to cultivate a pure mind, letting go of all scattered thoughts and delusive fantasies. The way to let go of these distractions is to keep the mouth constantly reciting Avalokiteshvara’s sacred name, the body constantly bowing before his sacred image, and the mind constantly reflecting on his vows and conduct—uniting body, speech, and mind into one. If we can do this, we will surely see results; it will never be wasted effort. That is why the text says, “hearing the name, seeing the form, and mindful thought will not be in vain.”

This applies not just to faith in the Buddha. For any matter, great or small, worldly or transcendent, we must engage body, speech, and mind fully to bring it to completion. If we only plan without acting, or act without reflection, we can never do anything perfectly. Some people see reverent bowing before a wooden statue or painted image of a Buddha or Bodhisattva as sheer foolishness. They say it is just a piece of wood or a sheet of paper, and that kneeling to wood or paper is laughable. But this shallow view is mistaken. Take bamboo skin, for example: it can be woven into a basket to hold fresh flowers, fruits, and vegetables; it can be made into sandals to wear on your feet; it can be woven into a hat to wear on your head. A sheet of paper can be printed with a comic book, or it can be printed with the sacred image of a Buddha or Bodhisattva. Once a Buddha’s image is printed on it, it deserves our reverent bowing. The wood or paper itself has no inherent nobility or baseness, but the image that appears on it does carry a distinction of sacred and ordinary. We are bowing to the Buddha, not to the wood or the paper!

“Can extinguish all the suffering of existence”: “existence” (有) here refers to the three realms of saṃsāra. The term means states that have both cause and effect. Within the six paths of the three realms, a good cause brings a good result, an evil cause brings an evil result; cause and effect never fail, so these states are called “existence.” The three realms are divided into the desire realm, form realm, and formless realm, known as “desire-existence,” “form-existence,” and “formless-existence”—this is the brief classification. A fuller analysis breaks “the various existences” into the twenty-five forms of existence in the three realms: the four continents, the four evil destinies, the six desire heavens plus Brahma heaven, the four dhyana heavens, the four formless heavens, the realm of no-thought, and the realm of non-returners. In short, “the various existences” refers to the web of good and evil cause and effect across the three realms and six destinations. “Suffering” here means pain and hardship. It is divided into “suffering as cause” and “suffering as result”: suffering as cause is affliction; suffering as result is the body created by karmic retribution. There are many types of suffering, but they all fall into two categories: inner and outer. Inner suffering refers to the pains of body and mind: greed, anger, jealousy, and so on. Outer suffering refers to pressures from the external environment and world. Whether the suffering is inner or outer, if we keep the three karmas pure, bow and recite with reverence, and merge in responsive communion with the Bodhisattva as one, we can extinguish the suffering of all existences in the three realms and attain a state of cool, peaceful ease.

Suppose someone harbors harmful intent and pushes you into a fiery pit: Think of Avalokiteshvara’s power, and the fiery pit becomes a pool. Or if you drift on the great sea, beset by dragons, fish, and demonic dangers: Think of Avalokiteshvara’s power, and the waves cannot drown you.

From this verse on, the text repeats the stories of Avalokiteshvara rescuing beings from suffering and peril. This verse shows the Bodhisattva’s power to extinguish the three great calamities of fire, water, and wind. “Suppose” introduces a hypothetical scenario. “Harbors harmful intent” means to arise with a mind that wishes harm. This refers to both humans and non-humans alike. If you encounter a person or non-human being that wishes you harm, who pushes you into a fiery pit intending to end your life, you need only calm your mind and single-heartedly recite Avalokiteshvara’s name. In an instant, the blazing fiery pit will transform into a cool, clear lotus pond, and you will be delivered from the danger of the fire. Or if violent winds drive you out to the great sea, leaving you adrift on the vast ocean to face poisonous dragons, whales, rakshasa demons, and every manner of disaster—at that life-or-death moment, you need only sincerely recite Avalokiteshvara’s name, and you will be spared the attacks of these creatures, delivered from the catastrophe of drowning. The Record of Hidden Manifestations records an account from the Jin dynasty: Luan Xun, the magistrate of Fuping, suffered defeat in a campaign against Lu Xun, and his warship was set on fire. In his desperation, Luan Xun devoutly recited the name of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva. Suddenly he saw a divine being standing in the river, its waist level with the water. Xun knew his recitation had received a response, so he plunged into the water; his body floated on the surface, his feet stepping as if on solid ground. Soon after, a relief force sent a boat to rescue him and bring him ashore.

The explanation above addresses the literal, phenomenal meaning of the verses. When interpreted in terms of underlying principle, the meaning reaches an even deeper level.

In principle: when we face hardship or cruelty, or run into enemies, bandits, or robbers bent on harming us, this stirs the fire of our unawakened anger. That anger then drives us to fall into the scorching pit of the three realms. If we can come to our senses in that very moment and stir a single thought of patience, the mind settles, karmic fires die down, the flames of hatred vanish in an instant, and the mind grows cool and clear naturally.

The "great fire" here refers to the two fundamental vexations: views and thought. The outer fire is the vexation of wrong views; the inner fire is the vexation of clinging, delusive thought. The scriptures teach: "A fire disaster can reach as far as the first dhyāna." If we can keep reciting the name with one-pointed mind, the outflow-free mind-king awakens meditative stillness, extinguishing the vexations of views and thought. In this way, the great fire of affliction cannot harm us at all; even the fiery pit of the three realms turns into a cool, clear pool.

The "giant sea" refers to the great ocean of afflictions. "Dragons, fish, and various ghostly dangers" are the surging waves of desire. Dragons, fish, and the like are metaphors for the allure of sensuality. In truth, the seductive charms and coquettish appeal of sensual desire are far more fearsome than dragons, fish, or evil ghosts. If we lack clear, steady discernment, we are easily bewitched by form, tossed to and fro on the waves of desire, and drawn into endless suffering. As the Buddha taught: "Desire is the very root of birth, death, and the cycle of saṃsāra." All of you should take this to heart and be on your guard.

If we find ourselves adrift in the great ocean of greed and delusion, battered by the waves of desire and beguiled by seductive allure, this is the moment to turn earnestly to the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva. Through the Bodhisattva’s pure, boundless wisdom, we see clearly that all phenomena arise only through causes and conditions, with no fixed, independent self. Our clinging to desire lets go of its own accord; the suffering of the love-river dissolves on the spot; and what opens before us is a safe, peaceful harbor.

Or on Mount Sumeru's peak, pushed off by others; Remembering Avalokiteśvara’s power, one stays in the void like the sun. Or chased by evil people, falling from Mount Vajra; Remembering Avalokiteśvara’s power, not a single hair is harmed.

Sumeru, also called Sumeilu in Chinese transliteration, is a Sanskrit term meaning "Wondrous High." It’s said to rise from the center of the four great seas, standing eighty-four thousand yojanas above the water, its peak level with the heavens—hence the name "Wondrous High Mountain." Modern scholars often identify Mount Sumeru with the present-day Himalayas. In truth, we don’t need to take Mount Sumeru as a literal, physical place; it may well have been a mountain imagined by people of ancient India. When someone is pushed from the peak of such a towering mountain, if they can single-mindedly recite the holy name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, the Bodhisattva’s awe-inspiring spiritual power sustains them like the sun hanging in empty space, so they do not fall from the cliff.

Or if someone is pursued by brutal, violent people and falls from Mount Vajra, simply reciting Avalokiteśvara’s name spares them even the slightest injury. The Sanskrit term Chakravāḍa is translated as "Mount Vajra" (Adamantine Mountain). As the Qi Shi Jing (Sūtra on the Origin of the World) records: "Beyond all other great mountains and outside Mount Sumeru the king lies another mountain called Chakravāḍa. It is six hundred and eighty yojanas high, and six hundred and eighty yojanas across in both length and breadth. Dense, solid, and formed of adamantine vajra substance, it cannot be destroyed—hence its name, Mount Vajra." This passage describes the location and nature of Mount Vajra. We don’t need to spend time debating the finer details of this mountain. The Buddha’s teachings carry deep, subtle meaning; the point of reading and listening to the sutras is to "immerse ourselves in the scriptural treasury and put the teachings into practice." We don’t need to get caught up in literal interpretations.

Mount Sumeru is a metaphor for the towering mountain of our own self-conceit. When we find ourselves in favorable circumstances, feeling proud and self-satisfied, we often look down on others, bloated with arrogance and self-importance. Like a Mount Sumeru blocking our line of sight, this self-conceit stops us from appreciating the beauty of the distant horizon and hinders our forward progress. What is even more lamentable is that some people, their self-conceit towering so high, refuse to humbly receive the Great Dharma, dismiss the truth as trivial, and remain closed off in their own limited views. This causes them to fall, letting the sapling of bodhi wither inside them. If such people can constantly recite Avalokiteśvara’s name and hold in mind the Bodhisattva’s boundless, impartial compassion, they will no longer slight or insult others. If they can always recall the Bodhisattva’s great courage, they will spur themselves to advance diligently, protecting their own dharma body and wisdom-life.

In this life, if we lack pure, untainted practice, we cannot rid ourselves of the mind of self-conceit. When things go our way, we use our status to push others around, as if standing atop the peak of Mount Sumeru. When we fail, we abandon ourselves to despair, full of resentment, as if we have been pushed off the slopes of Mount Sumeru. Only by holding fast to Avalokiteśvara’s name, manifesting the radiant light of wisdom, can we abide in empty space like the sun, free and unobstructed.

"Evil people" here is a metaphor for the karma of the ten unwholesome deeds. Buddhism teaches the principle of cause and effect: if we commit acts of killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, false speech, and the other seven unwholesome deeds, this negative karma clings to us like a shadow, pursuing us relentlessly without ever letting go. The truth that "good begets good fruit, evil begets bad fruit" has held true since time immemorial.

"Mount Vajra" carries the meaning of solidity and indestructibility. The karma we create is as hard as vajra. The Buddha’s saying, "Fixed karma cannot be altered," refers precisely to this. There is also another interpretation that likens Mount Vajra to the convictions we hold in our own minds. Only when each thought is firm and resolute will we not be tempted by external influences or shaken by whatever circumstances arise. This is only possible through the Bodhisattva’s awesome power, allowing us to move freely, unshaken by conditions.

There is a third interpretation: Mount Vajra represents our inner clinging to a fixed, independent self. From a Buddhist perspective, this self-attachment is the hardest to break, and a major obstacle for every practitioner. Self-clinging comes in two forms: discriminating self-clinging and innate self-clinging. Discriminating self-clinging can only be overcome once we have cultivated to the first bodhisattva ground. Innate self-clinging is far more subtle; we must cultivate the wisdom that sees the emptiness of persons to gradually uproot it. This is why it is likened to vajra, the hardest substance of all.

These verses go on to explain: the karma of the ten unwholesome deeds follows sentient beings like a shadow clings to form, pursuing us unceasingly, just as a vicious pursuer dogging our footsteps cannot be shaken off. The fixed karma we create cannot be erased or transformed. This fixed karma is as hard as vajra; no matter how we struggle, we cannot break free from it. Only by diligently reciting Avalokiteśvara’s name, and relying on the power of true contemplation, can we transform afflictions into bodhi. The mirror of wisdom grows perfectly clear and bright; its true nature is identical to empty space, free to move without obstruction.

Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva responds to the call of suffering and comes to the rescue, taking whatever form is needed, moving freely as the wind. As long as we are willing to deeply trust the Buddha-dharma, bow in reverence and make offerings, when we encounter any suffering, the moment we utter the name, rescue comes at once. A record in the text Yi Tan Ke Xin Lu (Records Trustworthy to Those of Other Faiths) tells of: In Baishui Cave, Xiuwen County, Guizhou, there is an abundant mercury deposit. Around a thousand miners worked the cave, and several hundred families lived in the settlements below the cliffs. Two li from the cave there was a stream, where a beautiful woman suddenly appeared, bathing. Her breasts hung down to her navel. On the spot, all the miners and local residents crowded over to watch. The moment they stepped into the stream, a loud rumble echoed: the cliffs caved in, and all the homes below were swallowed up. The woman had vanished without a trace. Only then did the onlookers realize she had been a transformation body of the Great Bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara, come to rescue them. Overwhelmed with gratitude, they bowed in thanks, and their faith grew only stronger.

Or surrounded by bandits, each brandishing a blade to kill; Remembering Avalokiteśvara’s power, they all instantly arouse a heart of compassion. Or sentenced to death by the king, standing at the edge of the execution ground; Remembering Avalokiteśvara’s power, the blade shatters into fragments.

The character ‘值’ here means “to encounter” or “meet with.” The first four lines of this verse speak of the peril of enemy-robbers, teaching us to respond to such foes with the compassionate heart of Avalokiteśvara. Why? Armed, violent men do not fear force; they fear compassion. As a Chinese proverb says: "The soft can overcome the hard"—that is precisely the meaning. If you find yourself surrounded by knife-wielding thugs on all sides, the wisest response is to steady your mind and recite the holy name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva. Take Avalokiteśvara’s compassion as your own: pity them, and wish only to help them. This compassionate heart has the power to transform them, turning their cruel, violent minds into a space of peace and harmony.

In the early years of the Republic of China, there lived a great virtuous man named Li Guoju in Li Family Village, Shaobo, Yangzhou, Jiangsu. He was a devoted Buddhist who practiced goodness without fail, never lagging behind others in his efforts. In the village, no matter the task, large or small, if it was within his power, he made sure it got done, and the villagers held him in the highest regard. One day, bandits broke into the Li household, planning to rob the family at knifepoint. When the great virtuous Mr. Li saw them, he said calmly to the gang of thieves: “I am sorry I did not know you gentlemen were struggling to make ends meet, and so failed to extend a kind hand to you sooner. Now that you have come to my humble home, it is already past noon—you must be hungry. Please, sit and eat first. If you need anything at all, I will do my best to provide it.” On hearing Mr. Li’s words, the bandits were overcome with shame. After finishing the meal, they could not bring themselves to rob the household of its goods. Moved by Mr. Li’s virtue, the whole gang resolved to turn away from evil and walk the right path, becoming upright, law-abiding good people. This true story stands as proof of this verse, showing that a compassionate heart can truly turn violence and cruelty into peace and harmony.

On a deeper level, the “enemy-robbers” spoken of here are not external foes, but inner ones. The three poisons of greed, hatred, and delusion are inner thieves that rob us of our accumulated virtuous merits and spiritual wealth. The six sense consciousnesses—of sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch, and thought—are the outer thieves.

These internal and external "thieves" have long besieged our minds, ever seeking to snatch away our pure Dharma treasures. The ringleader behind them all is self-clinging and wrong view. If self-clinging and wrong view are not cut off, affliction obstacles arise; if attachment to dharmas is not cut off, cognitive obstacles arise. These two are together called the obstacles of delusion. Deluded in this way, beings create karma and revolve endlessly through samsara.

As the Caigentan puts it: "What one sees, hears, perceives, and knows are external thieves; desire, passion, and mental processes are internal thieves. If the master of the house stays alert and undeluded, he turns the thieves into family members." To do away with the inner thieves, we must begin by cultivating the mind of great compassion. The World-Honored One once said, "Those who cultivate the Way should contemplate the equality of all dharmas," taking great compassion as foremost, growing it steadily. Then, observing human life and the nature of arising and ceasing, we come to see that the world's inequalities come from clinging to a selfish, narrow, stubborn, and arrogant "I." Where there's an "I," the opposing "self" appears. According to the Buddha's teaching, to dispel self-clinging we must grow the mind of great compassion. Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva is the great compassionate one. We recite his name, we honor him, and we go further—we learn from him, letting loving-kindness and compassionate vows fill our hearts, seeing enemies and loved ones as utterly equal. If we wish to break self-clinging, what difficulty is there?

Next, "the suffering of the king's punishment." This passage corresponds to the prose section's tribulation of blades and staves. Breaking the law and receiving legal sanction is getting one's just deserts, but the "king's punishment" here refers to the suffering of being unjustly imprisoned. In despotic times there was no such thing as equal law. Life and death hung on the king's word alone. Those who offended royal law were sent to capital punishment. If one could single-mindedly recite the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, relying on the bodhisattva's awesome power, the executioner's blade would immediately shatter, piece by piece. "Xun" (寻) here means "immediately."

In the Taiyi era of the Jin dynasty, Gao Jianrong committed a crime and was sentenced to death. At the moment of execution he took single-minded refuge and recited the holy name of Avalokiteśvara. The blade fell—and broke. He was spared his punishment, his life preserved beneath the edge.

On the level of principle, the "king's punishment" points to the suffering of birth and death in the three realms, the tribulation of being pressed and tormented by the demon king of afflictions. "At execution, life about to end" means that, driven by delusion, we create karma; afflictions bear down on us, pulling us into the six realms of samsara to receive our karmic due, floating and sinking without stability, on the verge of losing our dharma-body and wisdom-life. At such a moment, if we can hold and recite the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, praying for the bodhisattva's protection so that delusive thoughts do not arise, then by the power of that samādhi we will surely transcend the three realms and escape samsara, manifest a portion of dharma-body, and break through one grade of ignorance—hence "the blade immediately breaks, piece by piece."

Or imprisoned in cangue and chains, hands and feet bound in shackles; reciting the power of Avalokiteśvara, one is peacefully set free. Curses and various poisonous drugs, those who wish to harm one's body; reciting the power of Avalokiteśvara, they rebound upon the one who made them.

"Cangue" (枷) is the wooden frame fitted around the neck. "Chains" (锁) is also a kind of penalty implement, meaning iron shackles. "Handcuffs" (杻) are, as the name suggests, wrist restraints. "Fetters" (械) refers to ankle shackles. All belong to instruments of punishment.

In terms of events: if a person is thrown into a jail cell, body bound in cangue and chains, wearing handcuffs and ankle fetters, so long as he single-mindedly recites the name of Avalokiteśvara, he will gain release. "Shi ran" (释然) here means "liberated."

The Fayuan Zhulin records: during the Jin dynasty, there was a man from Henei named Dou Chuan, a foot soldier of Gao Chang. At that time Gao Chang was at odds with Lü Hu, the Inspector of Ji Province. Dou Chuan and others attacked Lü Hu but were captured. Seven companions were imprisoned together, scheduled to be executed within days. Dou Chuan single-mindedly held the name of Avalokiteśvara for three days and nights, and the handcuffs, fetters, cangue, and chains all loosened on their own. He couldn't bear to leave his companions imprisoned in suffering, so he prayed devoutly: "By the bodhisattva's compassionate rescue my shackles have fallen away of themselves, but I still have seven companions. How could I bear to go alone? I pray the great being extend compassion and free us all." After his prayer he tugged at his companions, and their fetters dropped off one by one. They opened the door under cover of night and escaped.

On the level of principle: when beings, pulled by karmic force, are locked in the three realms and six paths—bound by the cangue of form and the chains of emotion, restrained by the halter of fame and the locks of profit, dragging along the karmic conditions of six relatives and family, of self and other, of right and wrong, unable to find release—if they recite the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, they stand transcendent, breaking through the boundaries of self and other, setting down body and mind, with not a single speck of dust remaining. Then karmic obstacles dissolve on their own, and all troubles vanish.

"Curses" (咒诅): any use of mantras, sorcery, or spell-enchanted water to command ghosts and spirits to harm others is called cursing. "Various poisonous drugs" (诸毒药): any substance that harms the body when taken is called a poison; "various" indicates that there are many kinds.

If evildoers secretly try to harm one through curses and poisons, the victim need only single-mindedly hold and recite the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva: not only is the harm averted, but the "curses and poisons" rebound upon the schemer's own body. This is the meaning of "those who harm others end up harming themselves."

The book Tansou records: during the Song dynasty, there was a man named Lai Xinggan who practiced sorcery to kill people in order to sacrifice to ghosts, buying teenaged girls as offerings. Later he lured and bought one girl, brought her home, and shut her in a small room. The girl had constantly recited the name of the Great Bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara with her mother at home. Even in captivity she kept single-mindedly reciting the name. Late at night the skylight suddenly opened, and a demon-creature appeared, its light flashing like lightning. Though terrified, the girl didn't forget to recite the bodhisattva's name. Soon, golden light shot from her mouth and struck the demon's body. The creature tumbled down from the window. The girl shouted, and a patrolling guard happened by, broke open the door, and rescued her. They found a large white python dead beside the house, and Lai Xinggan was promptly arrested for his crimes.

As the saying goes: "Those who accept loss remain in the world." In life, never harbor the thought of harming others. Examine yourself at every turn. Those who study the Buddhadharma should not only learn to accept loss but also bring forth the mind of great compassion, doing whatever benefits beings. Otherwise, harming others is harming oneself; once the karmic retribution arrives, regret comes too late.

Jealousy, slander, divisive speech that wounds, and greed—the three poisons—are like curses and poisons, capable of destroying one's dharma-body and wisdom-life. Toward those who harbor hatred and jealousy, the best method is to single-mindedly recite the great being's name, and meet them with an even, peaceful mind. Then that person is like one who spits toward the sky or flings dust into the wind—it falls back on himself.

Or encountering evil rakshasas, poisonous dragons, and various ghosts; reciting the power of Avalokiteśvara, none dare to cause harm. Should savage beasts surround one, with terrifying sharp tusks and claws; reciting the power of Avalokiteśvara, they swiftly flee to the ends of the earth.

This verse is mainly telling us: if we encounter evil rakshasas, poisonous dragons, or various ghosts—even if surrounded by savage beasts bent on harming us—we need only single-mindedly, without distraction, recite Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, and all calamities vanish in an instant.

"Rakshasas" (罗刹) were explained in the earlier prose section and won't be repeated here. Tradition tells of a certain inquisitive man who liked to get to the very bottom of everything. One day, walking alone along a field path, he came upon a rakshasa ghost. He thought: "This is it—the rakshasa will never let me go!" Yet even at death's door he couldn't resist asking the rakshasa: "Friend, you look so strange—why is your chest white as snow while your back is black as ink?" The rakshasa replied: "Since you ask, I won't hide it. In this world what I fear most is sunlight, so I always walk with my back to the light. That's why my chest is white and my back is black." The man, suddenly emboldened, said boldly: "If you want my life, I can't stop you. But let me take three steps first, and then eat me. How about it?" The rakshasa, not suspecting a trick, cheerfully agreed. The man immediately turned and ran toward the sun. The rakshasa, fearing the light, dared not pursue him, and the man escaped the demon's clutches.

Although just a legend, it teaches us: those who harbor ill intent and fear the light are the rakshasas and evil spirits. Such beings operate only in darkness, never daring to face the light. To deal with them, simply single-mindedly hold and recite Avalokiteśvara's name, and the bodhisattva's compassionate light will shine through and shatter every evil.

Rakshasas are metaphors for our minds of anger. Anger is like a fierce fire that can burn away human reason, driving one to harm others and violate moral principle. A person who constantly harbors anger, who likes to scheme and fight, who bickers and curses, keeps company with the rakshasa nature. In time, the true nature is lost; the true mind is as if swallowed by a rakshasa. Those heavy with anger should often recite Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, using the bodhisattva's loving-kindness to counteract their anger, never forgetting to bring joy to others and relieve their suffering. Let cool springs well up within and quench the raging fire of anger.

Poisonous dragons are metaphors for our greed and ignorance-afflictions. Human desire knows no end. Fame, profit, money, position—who ever complains of having too much? People toil day and night, even resorting to deception, fraud, and struggle. To satisfy their desires they stop at nothing. If, when greedy thoughts arise, we could take up the bodhisattva's spirit of self-sacrifice and think on behalf of others, turning greed into joyful giving, and—within our capacity—care for and help others, then the greedy heart will naturally thin, and giving will gradually fill the mind. In this way the poisonous dragon of greed will surely be overcome, and body and mind will naturally be at ease.

"Ignorance" (痴) is what the Buddhist scriptures often speak of as the lack of light—one of the sources of affliction. Ignorant people cannot see the truth of things; they mix up right and wrong, and lacking their own judgment they easily fall under others' influence and go astray. Even a small thing can distress them for half a day. All this comes from lack of wisdom. The remedy, besides drawing near good teachers and studying the Buddhist classics, is to constantly receive and recite the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva. Wisdom will grow, the darkness of ignorance will be cast off, and in dealing with matters and principles one will not deviate. Thus many needless afflictions can be reduced.

"Various ghosts" (诸鬼) are metaphors for our scheming doubts. As the proverb says: "A doubtful mind gives birth to dark ghosts"—the most fitting gloss for this metaphor. Doubt is one of the conditions that obstruct the Way; not a few of beings' afflictions arise from it. People heavy with doubt often can't accomplish great things. In cultivating the Way, they doubt the Buddha's truth; in making friends, they lack sincerity; in dealing with people and affairs they're suspicious of everything, their spirit unsettled, even unable to rest at night. Such people are truly pitiable. The single most effective method is to urge them to recite Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, morning and evening without fail. After a time the spirit settles naturally, and the disease of doubt disappears on its own.

Everything we've spoken of so far belongs to the realm of affliction—and because there's affliction, there's also awakening. The scriptures say: "Affliction is bodhi." This is the foundation of the Mahāyāna teaching. So as long as beings can turn the deluded mind into the awakened mind, they can immediately transcend the three realms and no longer be tormented by affliction. Recite Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, think of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, and with the bodhisattva's great compassionate and equal wisdom, turn affliction into bodhi, evil thoughts into wholesome mind. Rakshasas and evil ghosts naturally can't touch one. Within that single turn of the mind, gain and harm lie worlds apart. The essential teaching of Buddhism is precisely this turn of the mind.

"Savage beasts" (恶兽), in terms of events, refers to tigers, leopards, jackals, wolves, and the like. Tigers and leopards are ferocious and domineering; jackals are greedy; wolves are savage and cruel; wolverines rely on force; foxes are full of suspicion; musk-deer are unfilial; the cunning are wily and changeable—any creature capable of threatening human life is called a "savage beast."

The Nanhai Cihang records: during the Ming dynasty, a man from southern Fujian named Lei Fazhen made his living burning charcoal. One day he came across a piece of yulan wood. Seeing its fine grain, he wished to carve an image of Avalokiteśvara and venerate it morning and evening, but pressed by affairs he didn't get around to it right away. One day, while burning charcoal in the mountains, a tiger suddenly emerged from the dense underbrush. Seeing Lei Fazhen, it bared its claws and lunged. At that critical moment a beautiful woman suddenly appeared, scolded the tiger, and the tiger was cowed by her presence and slunk away. Lei Fazhen, soul barely settled, asked the woman her name so he could repay her one day. She answered: "I am the yulan wood from your home." With that she vanished. Lei Fazhen reflected and knew it had been a transformation-body of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva who came to save him. He chose a day to carve the holy image, and from then on observed lifelong fasting and veneration. Truly vast are the spiritual powers and responsive manifestations of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva.

The Fayuan Zhulin also records: at the beginning of the Yuanjia era of our Song dynasty, there was a śramaṇa named Tan Wujie, a practitioner of asceticism, who recited the Avalokiteśvara Sūtra daily and held the name of Avalokiteśvara. Once, with twenty-five disciples, he set out to seek the Buddha-land. After countless hardships, on the road to Śrāvastī in India, they encountered a herd of mountain elephants charging toward them. Tan Wujie raised the sūtra and recited: "I single-mindedly take refuge in the Great Compassionate Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva." As he finished, a lion suddenly emerged from the forest; the elephants, seeing it, fled in terror, and the group escaped unharmed. Not long after, they encountered a herd of wild buffalo rushing in with furious roars, bent on harming them. Tan Wujie took refuge as before and devoutly recited the name. Suddenly a great vulture appeared in the sky and scattered the buffalo. By their devout recitation of the bodhisattva's name, Tan Wujie and his company were spared yet another disaster—all through the compassionate rescue of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva.

On the level of principle, "savage beasts" are metaphors for our ten fundamental afflictions: greed, hatred, ignorance, pride, and doubt (these five are called the five dull proclivities), together with body-view, extreme view, wrong view, attachment to view, and attachment to views of precepts and prohibitions (these five are called the five sharp proclivities). They are also metaphors for the ten fetters: shamelessness, ungratefulness, jealousy, stinginess, regret, drowsiness, agitation, dullness, anger, and concealment. These ten kinds of delusive confusion can bind sentient beings, preventing their escape from birth and death and barring their entry into nirvāṇa—hence they are called the ten fetters. These ten fetters and ten proclivities, like savage beasts, can destroy sentient beings' dharma-body and wisdom-life and obstruct the bodhi path. So everyone should constantly recite the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, drawing on Avalokiteśvara's equal and compassionate wisdom to cut off the "savage beasts'" sharp tusks and claws, to break the ten proclivities and ten fetters, and to attain the bodhisattva's ten grounds.

Our present age is an age of competition for survival. In beings' minds there are scenes of contention and struggle, of sharp claws and tusks. In pursuit of fame and profit, people grow narrow-minded—domineering, violent, suspicious, power-seeking, deceitful—sacrificing their own character to commit acts that offend heaven and violate reason. You are like this, I am like this, he is like this. One careless step and you fall into someone else's trap. Is this not exactly like being surrounded by savage beasts? I urge you all: constantly take up the great loving-kindness and equal mind of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, seeing sentient beings as parents, brothers, and sisters; turn evil thoughts into wholesome ones, and the savage beasts beside you and the savage beasts within your heart will vanish without a trace.

Yuan-snakes and fu-vipers, their poisonous breath like fire and smoke; reciting the power of Avalokiteśvara, at the sound of the name they turn and depart on their own.

"Yuan-snakes" (蚖蛇) are what ordinary people call four-legged snakes. Their body resembles a gecko but is larger, slightly bluish in color, and extraordinarily venomous; a bite can kill. "Fu" (蝮) is a kind of poisonous snake, usually found in damp places. The body is over two feet long, with a triangular head, a slender neck, and an upturned snout. On either side of the upper jaw are hollow fangs connected at the base to venom glands. When a person is bitten, the glands release venom, injected through the tubular fangs. The body is grayish-black with dark brown mottling, and the tail is short and small. Those bitten are hard to cure.

'Scorpion' (also written 蝎): it belongs to the spider family of arachnids, with a body around five fen in length, mostly yellowish-brown. Its head-thorax and front abdomen are fused into a single trunk. The back of the head-thorax has one pair of large simple eyes and several pairs of small simple eyes. Its mouth sits at the front of the head, with lower jaws shaped like crab pincers. It has four pairs of thoracic legs, each tipped with two claws. The front abdomen has seven segments, the rear six. The rear abdomen is long and slender like a tail, ending in a poisonous stinger used for defense and catching prey. It is one of many venomous creatures.

Vipers, pit vipers, and scorpions can spew poisonous vapors that blaze like smoke and fire, hence the saying: "Their breath is poison, like fire and smoke." These toxic vapors can kill a person. If you happen to cross paths with them, the simplest and most effective recourse is to chant the name of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva. Vipers, pit vipers, and scorpions will turn and flee the moment they hear the sound of the Bodhisattva’s name, no longer posing a threat. Hence the verse:

By the power of Avalokiteshvara, At the sound they turn and go their own way.

These three creatures stand as metaphors for the four great poisonous snakes of earth, water, fire, and wind. You should all clearly grasp this truth: "This body is not the self; it is only provisionally named the self because the four great elements have come together." To break this down: the murky, turbid earth snake represents greed; the sluggish, clinging water snake represents ignorance; the violent, fiery snake represents anger; the soaring wind snake represents arrogance. The toxic fumes of greed, anger, ignorance, and arrogance are always swirling around us. The slightest slip lets them harm others: harsh words, insults, sowing discord, and more. At their mildest, they wound others deeply; at their worst, they cost lives.

Look at the world around us: arguing and conflict are everyday occurrences. People hold grudges against each other; nations go to war. All of this stems from the toxic fumes of human ignorance. To clear this poison, chant the name of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva. This lets you return to your original source, turn your light inward, and the toxic fumes will dissolve, revealing your true mind.

We have spoken of poisonous snakes, but gold, silver, and wealth are poisonous snakes too. Once the Buddha and Ananda were traveling on their alms-round. When they reached a small grove beside a village, the Buddha suddenly turned back to Ananda and said: "Beneath this ground lie many poisonous snakes. Do you see them?" "Yes, World-Honored One! This disciple has already seen them," replied Ananda. Saying this, they walked on slowly.

An old farmer was digging the soil beside the grove and overheard the conversation between the Buddha and Ananda. He found this odd and wondered to himself: "Could these two shramanas really have such sharp eyes? Can they see things buried underground?" To satisfy his curiosity, he picked up his hoe and started digging. Before long, he uncovered a pile of glittering gold. The old farmer was overjoyed beyond words and immediately began planning how to haul it home. He had lived in poverty, scrimping on food and clothing, and suddenly he was a millionaire. The neighbors all found this strange! Under the laws of the realm at the time, any discovered treasure could not be kept for personal gain. News of the old farmer’s sudden wealth reached the king, who immediately sent men to arrest and interrogate him. They beat him severely to force him to reveal the treasure’s location, fearing more gold remained buried, leaving him covered in wounds. The old farmer wailed in anguish, cursing his own foolishness for not heeding the Buddha’s words. The king, puzzled, asked him: "What exactly did the Buddha say?"

The old farmer pressed his palms together, tears streaming down his face, and told the king every detail of the Buddha and Ananda’s exchange. Seeing that he truly believed the Buddha’s words and was sincerely remorseful, the king said:

The World-Honored One, in great compassion, Calls a buried treasure a snake’s den. He wishes to spare all from harm, But people turn from the Buddha’s words, And greed brings down punishment upon them. If they can but recall the Buddha’s words, Their punishment will cease forever.

With that, he ordered the old farmer set free and sent on his way.

Wealth is something everyone longs for, but it must be gained righteously; one must never covet what is not rightly theirs. When you have money, use it well: do more good, support the poor and care for orphans, build bridges, pave roads. Never hoard your wealth and refuse to give, becoming a total miser—that is how money loses all its worth.

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Clouds roll, thunder booms, lightning flashes, Hail falls, heavy rain pours; By the power of Avalokiteshvara, At the right moment they all disperse.

"Clouds" are fine water droplets condensed from vapor, floating in the sky. When dark clouds fill the sky, rain is sure to follow. Here, the reference to clouds points specifically to dark clouds. "Thunder" is the discharge produced by electrically charged clouds in the sky; the sound of this discharge is what we call thunder. The older definition of lightning is the flash emitted when electrically charged clouds discharge. Today we understand electricity as energy inherent in matter, usable as power, producing light and heat—lightning is one example of this. We usually speak of thunder and lightning together because lightning almost always appears before the rumble of thunder when it rains. Some people mistakenly think they happen one after the other, but they actually occur at the same time. The reason we see lightning before we hear thunder is that light waves travel far faster than sound waves. "Hail" forms when water vapor in the air freezes into ice and snow, coalesces into chunks, and falls to earth. It is common in spring and summer thunderstorms; small hailstones are said to be the size of beans, large ones the size of pears, and they can injure people and destroy crops.

Taken together, these four lines describe a scene: a bright, clear day suddenly turns dark as clouds roll in, thunder crashes, lightning flashes, heavy rain pours, and hail falls. It is a frightening, alarming sight. If you find yourself caught in such a storm, steady your mind and stay calm, chant the name of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva. With the Bodhisattva’s compassionate protection, the clouds will disperse, the rain will stop, and clear skies will return.

Clouds, thunder, lightning, hail, and heavy rain are all natural phenomena. Frightening as they may be, the thunderstorms, lightning, and hail inside our minds are far more terrifying! In spiritual terms, ignorance is the dark cloud. When ignorance arises, it obscures the bright, clear nature of all sentient beings. Self-clinging springs up, the divide between self and other emerges, and fierce anger ignites: rage booms like thunder, resentment flashes like lightning, greed pelts like hail, self-loathing and self-destruction pour down like heavy rain. These inner “storms” harm both others and ourselves. Are they not far more terrifying than any natural disaster? What’s more, jealousy, arrogance, and other deluded thoughts all act as fuel for these inner thunderstorms and gales. Practitioners must keep striving to cultivate the mind. Chant Avalokiteshvara in the morning, chant Avalokiteshvara in the evening: every thought arises from the mind, every thought stays rooted in the mind. Use the Bodhisattva’s power of samadhi to reflect on your own actions; use the Bodhisattva’s compassionate heart to subdue your own three poisons. When anger fades and the breath steadies, the mind grows bright and the spirit clear—is this not a return to your original pure, luminous true nature?

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Sentient beings trapped in adversity, Their bodies worn by measureless suffering; Avalokiteshvara’s wondrous wisdom-power Can save the world from all pain.

This verse wraps up the ten perils discussed earlier. The twelve great difficulties that Avalokiteshvara rescues beings from correspond to the Bodhisattva’s twelve great vows, though they are often grouped into seven categories. The passage from “If someone harbors harmful intent and pushes one into a great pit of fire” through the cloud and thunder verse above covers these twelve great perils. The verses recounting these twelve perils each contain the line “By the power of Avalokiteshvara.” This line is the key to dispelling calamity: it is a key that turns away evil, follows good, and transforms delusion into awakening. We cannot afford to take it for granted; we must cherish it and put it to use.

Sentient beings are outwardly beset by disasters of earth, water, fire, and wind, and inwardly tormented by the three poisons and two cravings. Their suffering is as countless as the grains of sand in the Ganges, impossible to tally. Yet Avalokiteshvara, who answers every call for help, can wield her subtle, inconceivable wisdom-power to rescue sentient beings from all inner and outer suffering, leading them to a state of cool ease. This is the “wondrous” quality of Avalokiteshvara, and the core reason the Bodhisattva is called “Perceiver of the World’s Sounds.”

The suffering of sentient beings is truly measureless and boundless. If we trace suffering to its root, we find the three poisons: greed, hatred, and ignorance. In the ten dharma realms, even bodhisattvas, shravakas, and pratyekabuddhas—who dwell beyond the six paths of ordinary sentient beings—still carry subtle traces of the three poisons. All beings across these nine dharma realms have afflictions; they differ only in severity. Of these nine dharma realms, sentient beings of the six realms are the most deeply and heavily poisoned. Even within the six realms, afflictions vary in severity. Those with the strongest hatred are reborn in the hell realms; those with the strongest greed become hungry ghosts; those with the strongest ignorance take birth in the animal realm. Those with milder hatred are reborn as asuras; those with milder greed dwell in the human realm; those with milder ignorance are reborn in the heavenly realms. This is the spiritual classification of these rebirths.

Even though the human realm is said to carry lighter greed, the torment we humans suffer from greed is as countless as the sands of the Ganges. Take the most basic four sufferings—birth, old age, sickness, and death—to say nothing of all others. Who can bear them? Some are tortured by the pain of old age and sickness so badly that life feels worse than death. Hence the saying: “The sea of suffering has no shore; the world is rife with sorrow and pain.” If you do not chant the names of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, and do not rely on their power to escape the sea of suffering, sinking again and again through lifetime after lifetime in the six realms of samsara—are you not the greatest fool under heaven?

All suffering—the three sufferings, the eight sufferings, every form of pain—arises from sentient beings’ karma. Karma springs from delusion. To cut off delusion and realize the truth, you must deeply trust the Buddha’s words, chant the name of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva, and use the Bodhisattva’s great compassionate water to wash clean the defiled minds of sentient beings. Kindle the mind’s unextinguished lamp, awaken the eye of wisdom in all beings, so that everyone may possess Avalokiteshvara’s wondrous wisdom-power, shattering all darkness and the thick forest of wrong views.

Of the many forms of suffering, the eight difficulties are also a kind of suffering. The eight difficulties include, beyond the three evil paths: blindness, deafness, and muteness; so-called worldly wisdom and argumentative cleverness; the Northern Kuru continent; rebirth in the long-life heavenly realms; and being born before a Buddha appears or after a Buddha enters nirvana. Being born into any of these eight states means either enduring extreme hardship, or being surrounded by such abundant material comfort and such a long lifespan that one grows attached to pleasure and refuses to hear the Dharma or study the sutras. Some are born at the wrong time: a Buddha has not yet appeared in the world, or a Buddha has already passed into nirvana. These sentient beings have shallow wholesome roots, cannot hear the Buddha Dharma, and so do not understand the path to liberation—hence they are called the “eight difficulties.”

I will focus in particular on two of these: blindness, deafness, and muteness, and worldly wisdom and argumentative cleverness.

Taken literally, blindness, deafness, and muteness refer to those who cannot see, cannot hear, and cannot speak. The blind cannot read Buddhist sutras and so cannot study the teachings in depth; the deaf cannot hear Dharma talks and so receive no benefit from them; the mute, even if they can read sutras, cannot understand them fully and find it hard to ask questions. It is truly pitiful. These conditions are congenital and unavoidable. Yet there are those whose five senses are perfectly intact, whose appearance is hale and whole, who still refuse to read sutras or listen to the Dharma. Some even when they do read and listen, neither seek to understand nor bother to ask questions. These people see but do not see, have ears but do not hear, have a voice but do not ask—what difference is there between them and the blind, deaf, and mute?

As for worldly wisdom and argumentative cleverness: you can find plenty of such people in today’s world. They have worldly learning, but refuse to study or practice the Buddha Dharma, and even go so far as to slander the truth. Their state is truly pitiful. If you have good knowledge, you should pair it with diligent practice and cultivation, transforming worldly wisdom into true wisdom. Then what obstacle would there be to cutting off delusion and realizing the truth? If you only have worldly learning and refuse to put in the effort to practice, think on it—is that not a great waste?

Now that we know the root of suffering, we must resolve to eradicate it. The sutra says: “Dissolve old karma as circumstances allow; create no new misfortune.” I hope each of you will keep striving.

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Endowed with the power of spiritual penetrations, Broadly cultivating wisdom and skillful means, In all the lands of the ten directions, There is no realm where the Bodhisattva does not manifest.

This is the general overview of the thirty-three manifestation bodies. Earlier we spoke of Avalokiteshvara’s wondrous wisdom-power, the ability to save the world from suffering. This wondrous wisdom-power is the essence; when this wisdom is put into action, it becomes the power of spiritual penetrations—this is its function. “In all the lands of the ten directions, there is no realm where the Bodhisattva does not manifest” describes its manifestation. Think of it this way: the wondrous wisdom-power is like a spotless, bright mirror; spiritual power is like the images reflected in that mirror. Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva never departs from this unity of essence, nature, and manifestation, and moves freely without obstruction to respond to cries for help and appear everywhere to save beings—this is its function in action.

Spiritual penetration, or shen-tong, means unfathomable wondrous function; tong, or penetration, means unimpeded freedom. From the highest Buddhas and Bodhisattvas down to celestial beings, immortals, ghosts, and spirits, all possess spiritual penetrations, but theirs differ vastly. Generally, they are divided into two types: contaminated (with outflows) and uncontaminated (without outflows) spiritual penetrations. Contaminated spiritual penetrations belong to celestial beings, immortals, ghosts, and spirits. These penetrations are limited in power, capable at best of perceiving only a small fraction of the human and ghost realms. Of the six spiritual penetrations, they possess only five: the heavenly eye, heavenly ear, knowledge of others’ minds, knowledge of past lives, and the spiritual foot (or teleportation). While celestial beings’ penetrations are greater than those of ghosts and spirits, compared to Buddhas and Bodhisattvas the gap is as vast as the distance between heaven and earth. What’s more, celestial beings and spirit ghosts often use their spiritual penetrations as weapons in disputes, creating evil karma. When used unskillfully, they only deepen the causes of suffering in the six realms of samsara. As for the spiritual penetrations of shravakas and pratyekabuddhas of the two vehicles, they extend only throughout the three-thousand-great-thousand-world system, and cannot compare to the Buddha’s ultimate perfection.

The Buddha’s spiritual penetrations extend across measureless, boundless worlds as numerous as the grains of sand in the Ganges. He perceives all things, all events, whether past, present, future, or even events from countless kalpas ago, with perfect clarity and thoroughness. Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva is the ancient Tathagata of Right Dharma Brightness (Zhengfa Ming Rulai), who attained Buddhahood countless kalpas ago. That is why it is said she is “endowed with the power of spiritual penetrations.” Beyond the five penetrations listed above—heavenly ear, heavenly eye, knowledge of others’ minds, knowledge of past lives, and spiritual foot—Buddhas and Bodhisattvas also possess a sixth: the penetration of the extinction of outflows. Extinction of outflows means the complete cessation of all afflictions. This is the most important of all spiritual penetrations.

Why is Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva endowed with the power of spiritual penetrations? Since countless kalpas ago, the Bodhisattva has served all Buddhas, cultivated countless practices, awakened the great compassionate heart, and after realizing fundamental wisdom, has engaged in boundless meritorious practice, using all expedient wisdom and skillful means to transform and save sentient beings. From the Bodhisattva’s perspective, the two wisdoms—expedient and real—cannot be one-sidedly emphasized; both are essential. Real wisdom gives rise to expedient wisdom of skillful means; expedient wisdom allows one to respond to the capacities of sentient beings and teach the Dharma, universally transforming all beings.

Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva is endowed with spiritual penetrations and broadly cultivates wisdom and skillful means to support the Buddha’s teaching, adapting to the capacities of sentient beings and teaching the Dharma at the right time and place. With wisdom-power, spiritual power, expedient power, and a compassionate heart, the Bodhisattva works to transform and guide, to rescue sentient beings without distinction of east, west, south, or north, the four cardinal directions or the ten directions, throughout the entire empty expanse of the dharma realm in all worlds. There is no land where the Bodhisattva does not manifest, no sentient being the Bodhisattva does not save. Unable to bear the suffering of sentient beings, the Bodhisattva descends into the hell realms, appears as a hungry ghost, to rescue beings of the evil paths who suffer the torments of the knife and sword forests, hunger and thirst, allowing them to receive the nourishment of the Dharma’s sweet dew. In the Flaming Mouth Food Offering ritual, Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva specially manifests as the Venerable Mianran (面然大士) to universally rescue all hungry ghosts. Hence the saying: “In all the lands of the ten directions, there is no realm where the Bodhisattva does not manifest.”

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The various evil destinies: Hells, ghosts, and animals, The sufferings of birth, old age, sickness, and death— All are gradually brought to cease.

This verse comprehensively sets forth Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva’s merit in saving beings from suffering. The Bodhisattva can extinguish the suffering of sentient beings in the various evil destinies and bestow upon them the cool, sweet dew of the Dharma. It supplements the earlier prose passage and belongs to the category of “solitary verses” (gūqǐsòng).

"Various evil destinations" refers to sentient beings in the six realms of saṃsāra, apart from the four noble ones. Among these six realms, the hell, hungry ghost, and animal realms involve the most unwholesome karma and the deepest suffering; hence they are called the three evil destinations. They earn this name because sentient beings, driven by their own unwholesome actions, are drawn toward these states of suffering. From the perspective of the Buddhist path of liberation, even humans and devas (with asuras scattered across all realms) count as evil destinations — for neither humans nor devas have escaped the three realms, and both still endure the pain of saṃsāra.

"Hell realms, hungry ghosts, and animals" names the three evil destinations individually. Hell is the most agonizing of the six realms; it lies beneath the earth, hence the name. Hell realms fall roughly into three types. First, fundamental hells, which divide into eight cold and eight hot hells, making sixteen great hells. Second, peripheral hells: each of the eight hot hells has four gates, and each gate opens onto sixteen subsidiary hells, also called "wandering-increasing hells" — because when condemned beings wander there, their suffering only intensifies. Third, solitary hells, found in mountain valleys, open wilderness, beneath trees, or along the water's edge — no fixed location. They arise from each individual's particular unwholesome karma, so both the suffering and the lifespan differ from being to being.

Hungry ghosts are spirits tormented by constant hunger. Those with some merit and power serve as deities of mountains, forests, graveyards, and temples, able to receive offerings or leftover food from humans. Those without merit or power cannot obtain food or drink — they cannot even hear the word "water." Tormented endlessly by hunger and thirst, fire pours from their mouths, hence the name "hungry ghosts." All these beings bear the fruit of unwholesome karma from past lives: stinginess, refusal to give, and the like.

"Animals" refers to sentient beings who have fallen into the animal realm — birds, beasts, and so on. Within the animal realm, aquatic creatures generally carry the heaviest karma, while land animals bear comparatively less. When reborn in the human realm, they suffer whipping, bearing heavy loads, and slaughter. All of this stems from ignorance and delusion in past lives.

To save sentient beings in the three evil destinations, Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva embodies the spirit of great compassion, great loving-kindness, and great courage, vowing: "I will not attain Buddhahood until the hells are empty." He manifests in the same forms as beings in the three evil destinations to liberate them, enabling them to leave these suffering paths behind and attain freedom of body and mind.

"The suffering of birth, aging, illness, and death" speaks specifically to the human condition. These are the four fundamental sufferings of human life. Regardless of wealth, status, intelligence, or moral character — no one escapes them. This holds not only for humans but for celestial beings as well, which is why the ancient masters said: "Humans cannot avoid the four marks of suffering; how could those in heaven escape the five signs of decay?" Seeing the suffering of beings in the human and celestial realms, Avalokiteśvara likewise manifests in human and celestial form to teach and guide us, freeing us from the bonds of sorrow and anguish.

"Gradually eliminating all": whether in hell, the hungry ghost realm, or the animal realm; whether human or celestial — as long as one sincerely recites the name of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, one will receive the Bodhisattva's response and gradually extinguish the manifold sufferings of the six realms. Thus the Bodhisattva's cloud of compassion shelters all sentient beings, turning darkness to light, transforming anguish into peace and joy.

True contemplation, pure contemplation, vast wisdom contemplation, compassionate contemplation and loving contemplation: may we always aspire to them and always gaze upon them.

This is the universal contemplation of Avalokiteśvara's mental activity — the Bodhisattva's "contemplation for self-benefit" and "contemplation for benefiting others." The reason the Bodhisattva can benefit others lies chiefly in the wondrous function that arises from these contemplative practices. Like the verse earlier, this one supplements what the prose leaves unsaid; it is an independent verse.

There are five types of contemplation: true contemplation, pure contemplation, vast wisdom contemplation, compassionate contemplation, and loving contemplation. These are the Bodhisattva's five contemplations. The first three pertain to self-benefit, the latter two to benefiting others — so the five together encompass both aspects. They can be understood as differentiations of the "wondrous power of Avalokiteśvara's wisdom" mentioned earlier. Gathered together, they are that wondrous power; separated, they become five distinct contemplative practices. Because Avalokiteśvara possesses the wondrous power of these five contemplations, he is also called Guānzìzài — the Lord who perceives ultimate freedom.

"True contemplation" is the contemplation of emptiness. It means using the wisdom of true knowing to observe and understand that all phenomena arise from causes and conditions, possess no inherent nature, and are empty in their very essence. As the Heart Sūtra says: "When Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva practiced the profound Prajñāpāramitā, he illuminated that the five aggregates are all empty." This is the wisdom of the contemplation of emptiness. All worldly phenomena accord with dependent origination: when causes and conditions converge, things falsely appear to arise; when they disperse, things falsely appear to cease. No true, inherent existence remains — hence "empty in their very essence."

Take our bodies. When formed, they are a combination of physical matter and consciousness. Analyze them chemically and a human body amounts to nothing more than a collection of basic elements. Scatter those elements and what body is there to speak of? If even material form is like this, what of mental phenomena? Mental phenomena have no physical substance — only deluded thought — making them more tenuous still.

The Sūtra of Complete Awakening offers an excellent passage on the emptiness of mental phenomena, which can help us understand that all things arise through dependent origination and lack true nature:

"Through the false combination of four conditions, the six sense bases falsely arise. The six sense bases and the four great elements combine, inner and outer, to form the body. Then false conditioned energy accumulates within, seeming to have a conditioned appearance — and we provisionally call it 'mind.' This deluded mind cannot exist without the six sense objects. When the four great elements disintegrate, no sense objects remain; all conditioned sense objects scatter and dissolve. Ultimately, no conditioned mind can be found."

This is the emptiness of consciousness — the emptiness of mental phenomena. Sentient beings' bodies are like this, and so is the insentient world of material phenomena. Once we grasp that phenomena arise from conditions and have no inherent nature — that they are empty in their very essence — we can penetrate all things more deeply. We become better able to take hold and let go, advancing another step along the path of practice.

"Pure contemplation" is the contemplation of provisional existence. The Bodhisattva uses the wisdom of emptiness to see that all phenomena are empty — but the emptiness spoken of here is not some blank, hollow void. While the essence of dependently arisen phenomena is empty, their provisional appearances still present themselves. These appearances are illusory, yet understanding this, one does not grasp at them. Even dwelling in the defiled world of the five turbulences, one remains unstained by worldly dust — and this freedom from stain is "pure contemplation." The Sūtra of Complete Awakening says: "When the mind is pure, perceived objects are pure; when perceived objects are pure, the eye sense base is pure — and so it is equally for the nose, tongue, body, and mind. Good sons! When the fundamental nature is pure, the sense objects of form are pure; when form is pure, sound is pure — and likewise for smell, taste, touch, and mental objects." At the ultimate level, the entire universe — all its myriad phenomena — is pure. This is Avalokiteśvara's pure contemplation.

"Vast wisdom contemplation" is the contemplation of the middle way. The Bodhisattva first contemplates emptiness, then provisional existence, and then observes and understands that all phenomena are neither identical nor separate, neither one nor different. This is the middle way contemplation of the perfect, unobstructed interpenetration of principle and phenomena. For worldly phenomena — arising from conditions, lacking inherent nature — if we examine their essence, they are empty; if we examine their appearance, they exist. Emptiness is not existence, and existence is not emptiness; hence "not identical." Yet provisional existence is emptiness in its very essence, and emptiness is provisional existence right where we stand — they are inseparable; hence "not separate." Still, emptiness is not provisional existence, and provisional existence is not emptiness; the two are not a single entity; hence "not one." And yet provisional existence and emptiness are two sides of one reality, sharing the same nature: without provisional existence, there is no way to find emptiness; hence "not different." When the Bodhisattva fully awakens to the principle of the middle way, he uses his vast wisdom to observe all things universally, understanding each without exception. This is the unobstructed, perfectly interpenetrating "contemplation of wisdom."

"Compassionate contemplation and loving contemplation": "compassion" means drawing beings out of suffering; "loving-kindness" means giving them joy. These two contemplations belong to the activity of benefiting others. Through compassionate contemplation, Avalokiteśvara perceives that the nature of sentient beings and Buddhas is one and the same, and grieves that beings, confused by delusion and karma, cannot escape suffering. So with his vow of compassion he rescues them from pain, constantly using the light of wisdom to pierce through darkness and bestow happiness — this is "loving contemplation." The Bodhisattva possesses all five contemplations and uses them to teach and deliver sentient beings. When we recite the name of Avalokiteśvara, we continually long for the Bodhisattva's great compassion to aid us and gaze upon the merits of his great compassion — hence "may we always aspire to them and always gaze upon them."

Immaculate pure light, the sun of wisdom dispelling all darkness, able to subdue the winds and fires of calamity, universally illuminating the world.

This passage reveals that the Bodhisattva's light of wisdom can dispel the darkness of beings' ignorance and deliver them from the ocean of suffering. It, too, is an independent verse, supplementing the prose.

"Immaculate pure light" is the light of wisdom. It synthesizes the five contemplations described above — each of them pure and untainted. The Bodhisattva's pure, unstained light of wisdom can illuminate and shatter beings' afflictions, cleanse their minds, and bring forth the radiance of wisdom to banish all darkness.

"The sun of wisdom dispelling all darkness": this light of wisdom is like a radiant sun suspended high in the sky, flooding the earth. Yet its function surpasses that of the sun. It not only illumines the sahā world undimmed by mountains, valleys, or the shade of leaves, but penetrates every form of darkness in the three evil realms, so that all beings may feel the warmth of this light and receive its blessings.

Sentient beings' true nature is originally like a bright mirror; only deluded thoughts and attachments cover it in dust, obscuring its innate luminosity. To turn from delusion to awakening, we must rely on the Bodhisattva's pure light of wisdom. We should diligently practice the contemplation of emptiness to break the afflictions of view and thought, practice pure contemplation to clear away the afflictions of dust and sand, and practice vast wisdom contemplation to shatter the fundamental ignorance. Let the pure, untainted light of wisdom shine brightly upon the minds of all beings, turning darkness into light — this is the meaning of "the sun of wisdom dispelling all darkness."

"Able to subdue the winds and fires of calamity": "calamity" refers broadly to all the suffering beings experience, both internal and external. Wind and fire here primarily metaphorize the wind of ignorance and the fire of affliction within our own minds. External disasters befall sentient beings because inner afflictions drive body and speech to create unwholesome karma, which then ripens as retribution. Since the Bodhisattva's pure light of wisdom shines like the sun, it can illuminate and shatter beings' afflictions and cleanse the mind's defilements. Once the internal causes of suffering are removed, external disasters naturally dissolve like smoke. The most urgent task in practice, then, is to subdue the deluded mind. Once that mind is transformed, wherever you look, the sun shines bright and all is light.

"Universally illuminating the world" means that the Bodhisattva's pure light shines on all worlds without exception. Avalokiteśvara's light of wisdom arises from the truth of suchness and pervades everywhere. What it illuminates is not merely the sahā world shared by ordinary and noble beings, but extends to the provisional pure lands of the śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas, and to the real reward lands of the Bodhisattvas. The Bodhisattva loves all beings with an equal heart, and so he bathes them all in his pure light of wisdom — never forsaking one to favor another.

Speaking of "immaculate pure light" brings to mind a verse by Huineng, the Sixth Patriarch of the Chan school. I'd like to share his story here, so that we can more deeply appreciate what it means that "our original nature is inherently without stain."

Great Master Huineng was from Xinzhou in Lingnan. He took refuge under the Fifth Patriarch, Great Master Hongren. The Fifth Patriarch recognized the Master's sharp capacities, but fearing that other disciples might grow jealous — and also wishing to test Huineng's patience and fortitude — he sent him to a small hut in the rear courtyard to chop firewood and pound rice.

After some time had passed, the Fifth Patriarch judged the moment ripe. He gathered the assembly and spoke earnestly: "Practitioners — the great matter of birth and death is yours to resolve. Each of you should look within and examine your own wisdom: have you awakened to your fundamental nature? Then each of you should compose a verse and show it to me. Whoever has awakened most thoroughly will receive the robe and bowl and become my successor as the Sixth Patriarch."

Among the disciples was a senior Dharma teacher named Shenxiu. His dignified bearing, virtue, and learning were complete; the monks held him in high regard, and everyone assumed the Sixth Patriarchship would surely fall to him. Shenxiu composed a verse, but over the course of four days, he thought thirteen times of presenting it to the Fifth Patriarch — and each time held back.

One night at the third watch, Shenxiu took a lamp and went to the wall of the south corridor, where he wrote:

"The body is the bodhi tree, the mind is like a bright mirror on its stand. Diligently wipe it at all times — let no dust alight upon it."

The meaning: This body is like the bodhi tree — its leaves green through every season, never fading. Yet on the day of the Buddha's parinirvāṇa, the leaves fall, only to return to green before long. This mind is like a bright mirror — the noble person's extraordinary mind, reflecting all things yet stained by none, empty yet constantly luminous, its original nature bright and clear. Since the body is the bodhi tree and the mind the mirror stand, we fear the dust and so wipe it away relentlessly, never letting it obscure the mirror's original clarity — a metaphor for ceaselessly overcoming deluded thoughts and afflictions, never letting their grime conceal our true nature.

At dawn, the Fifth Patriarch saw the verse and recognized that while Shenxiu had cultivated and studied, he had not yet awakened to his mind or seen his true nature. He told the assembly: "If people of the world practice in accordance with this verse, they can avoid falling into the three evil realms and will gain great benefit. I hope you will burn incense, pay homage, and recite it regularly." From then on, everyone eagerly passed it around and recited it.

Two days later, a young novice passed by the rice-pounding room, chanting as he walked: "The body is the bodhi tree, the mind is like a bright mirror on its stand; diligently wipe it at all times — let no dust alight upon it." Huineng heard him and asked, "Which master composed the verse you're reciting?" The novice told Huineng the whole story — the verse, the matter of the Dharma transmission, everything.

Huineng said, "I, too, would like to recite this verse, to forge a karmic bond for future lives. But from the start I've been in the mill, chopping wood and pounding rice — I've never once been to the main hall. Could you lead me to where Venerable Shenxiu wrote his verse?"

When they reached the south corridor, the novice recited Shenxiu's verse aloud for Huineng. Huineng knew at once that Shenxiu had not yet seen his original face. He asked Zhang Riyue, assistant magistrate of Jiangzhou, to write down a verse for him, and recited:

"Bodhi has no tree, the bright mirror has no stand. Originally there is not a single thing — where could dust alight?"

The meaning: Bodhi is not the pipal tree — the Sanskrit word bodhi means awakening, and awakening has no form to speak of. The bright mirror is only a figure of speech: the mirror of the mind has no shape — so where would a "stand" be? Moreover, our original nature is pure, radiant, and open, with not a single thing inherent in it. Where would dust or filth find a place to settle?

When the crowd saw Huineng's verse, they were stunned. The Fifth Patriarch, Hongren, saw their astonishment and feared someone might do Huineng harm, so he erased the verse with his shoe, saying, "He hasn't seen his nature either." The crowd took the Fifth Patriarch at his word and let the matter drop.

Later, the Patriarch went to the mill, struck the ground three times with his staff, and departed. Huineng understood. That night at the third watch, he entered the abbot's room and bowed before the Fifth Patriarch. The Patriarch draped his robe around them for privacy and transmitted the Dharma, making Huineng the Sixth Patriarch of the Chan school.

Sentient beings cycle through the six realms because they do not understand that "the essence and appearance of reality are naturally so — purity is not achieved by wiping anything away." They deludedly seek the Dharma outside their own minds, mistake worldly objects for something real, and only sink deeper into the mire.

If someone on the path cannot awaken in this moment to the truth that their own mind is the true Buddha, and their own nature is the true Dharma, but instead believes there is a Buddha to find outside the mind, or a Dharma to gain outside one’s nature, and seeks the path with a deluded mind, then even if they practice until the year of the donkey, it will be for nothing. While the Sixth Patriarch’s verse points directly to realizing the mind and seeing one’s true nature, only those with sharp faculties and keen wisdom can grasp and put it into practice. For ordinary folks with limited merit and wisdom and modest capacities, it is far more suitable to follow Master Shenxiu’s verse in your cultivation.

I offer this encouragement to all of you: guard your own mind, keep it clear, pure, and untainted, free of the dust of defilement.

The body of compassion, a thunderclap of precepts; the wondrous great cloud of loving-kindness; pouring down the Dharma rain of amṛta, extinguishing the flames of affliction.

This verse praises the activity of Guanyin Bodhisattva teaching sentient beings. Though it may appear to praise the universal benefit of the Bodhisattva’s spoken words, it in fact reveals the Bodhisattva’s inconceivable activity across the three spheres of karma: body, speech, and mind. In these lines, “The body of compassion, a thunderclap of precepts” points to the Bodhisattva’s action of body; “the wondrous great cloud of loving-kindness” describes Guanyin Bodhisattva’s action of mind; and “pouring down the Dharma rain of amṛta” directly expresses the Bodhisattva’s teaching through speech. We will unpack this verse in detail through these three aspects.

“The body of compassion” refers to the fundamental essence of great compassion the Bodhisattva has awakened to. As the sutra says: “Bodhisattvas are born only from great compassion, not from other virtues.” These words are the clearest explanation of the term “body of compassion.” This great compassionate essence arises from the strict upholding of pure precepts, which is why it is called “the body of compassion, [born of] precepts.” With this essence of great compassion and precept-based purity, the Bodhisattva manifests thirty-three forms, travels through all lands, and protects sentient beings. The renown of their loving-kindness and compassionate vows, the power of their spiritual attainments and wondrous functions, spread far across the ten directions of Buddha-lands like the first peal of thunder, rousing sentient beings from their deluded dreams. This is why the verse says: “The body of compassion, a thunderclap of precepts.”

Precepts are the foremost of the threefold wisdom trainings, and their function is to prevent wrongdoing and cut off evil. Without precepts, one cannot transcend the mundane world or attain sainthood; for this reason, whether lay or monastic, upholding precepts is the first and foremost task. The Buddha’s Last Teaching Sutra states: “Precepts are the root of rightful conduct and liberation.” They are like a wise teacher, guiding us onto the bright path of liberation. The sutras describe five benefits of upholding precepts: first, all that you seek will be fulfilled as you wish; second, your wealth and possessions will grow without loss; third, all beings in the place where you dwell will respect and care for you; fourth, your good name and virtuous reputation will spread far and wide across the world; fifth, when your body dissolves and this life ends, you will surely be reborn in the heavenly realms.

All of you who wish to attain the true benefits of the Dharma must seek them through upholding precepts, for precepts give rise to samadhi (meditative concentration), and samadhi gives rise to wisdom. If you wish to attain fruition but refuse to uphold precepts, that is like a deluded person talking in their sleep—it will all come to nothing in the end.

There is a story of a wealthy person who left home to ordain as a monastic. At first, they practiced with great diligence, upholding the precepts strictly, but later ran into hard times, abandoned pure precepts, and acted recklessly. One night, the owner of a small noodle shop at the foot of the mountain had a very strange dream: he saw two identical men who said to him, “Do you want to get very rich? If so, we’ll tell you how. Tomorrow, when the monastic from up the mountain comes to your shop for noodles, bring them to him. When he lifts his chopsticks to eat, ask him for the money upfront. If he flies into a rage and slams his chopsticks hard on the table, my brother and I will be free, and won’t have to serve him anymore. We used to have 250 brothers, all of us following and protecting him with one mind. Now 248 have left, just the two of us remain. We watch him act wildly every day, and it makes us miserable, but he’s always treated us politely, so we have no chance to get away. If you help us make him lose his temper at us, we’ll make you rich, promise.”

The next day, that monastic did indeed come to the shop for noodles. The shopkeeper did exactly as the brothers in his dream had instructed. When the monastic heard he was being asked to pay before even eating, he thought it was outrageous. He lifted his chopsticks, ready to slam them down, but then caught himself: this wasn’t right—if he was going to lose his temper, he should put his chopsticks down first! So he gently set his chopsticks on the edge of the bowl, then slammed the table and roared in anger. When the shopkeeper saw him put the chopsticks down, he thought to himself: That’s it, I’m going to run this tiny shop for the rest of my life, I’ll never get rich. Overwhelmed with grief, he burst out sobbing. Seeing him cry as if his heart would break, the monastic was bewildered, and pressed him to explain. The shopkeeper told him the entire dream, from start to finish.

The monastic was instantly filled with deep shame. He resolved to reform his ways from this moment on, and return to upholding pure precepts. He said to the shopkeeper, “Don’t be sad. Thank you for telling me this, for waking me from my ignorance. From now on, I will bring back all 250 of my old friends. To repay you, I’ll give you all the money I have saved. I hope you will use it well.”

Though this is just an unverified story with no historical basis, it shows us how vital upholding precepts is. We must never see precepts as trivial, or think of them as ropes that bind the body and mind. It is my hope that all of you will strictly uphold pure precepts, gather and restrain your body and mind, and thus reach a state of freedom and light.

“Loving-kindness intent” is simply a mind of compassion. Earlier we spoke of compassion: its core is the removal of suffering. Because the Bodhisattva sees sentient beings sinking into the abyss of pain, they arise great compassion to pull beings out of their suffering. Now we speak of loving-kindness: its essence is the ability to bring happiness to sentient beings. The greatness of Guanyin Bodhisattva lies precisely here: he not only removes the suffering of sentient beings, but also grants them every form of joy, just as clouds block the scorching sun, bringing cool shade to the earth. In the Dharma, the word “wondrous” is used to encompass all inconceivable, ineffable merits and virtues, which is why the verse says “the wondrous great cloud of loving-kindness.”

Amṛta is also called the “elixir of immortality.” The Words and Phrases of the Lotus Sutra states: “Amṛta is the devas’ elixir of immortality; those who partake of it live long lives, with peaceful bodies, great strength, and radiant form.” The Buddha often uses amṛta as a metaphor for the wondrous Dharma that is free from birth and death. The Introduction Chapter of the Lotus Sutra says: “It rains the great Dharma rain, blows the great Dharma conch.” Why is the Dharma compared to rain? Because the wondrous Dharma nourishes the field of sentient beings’ minds, just as heavenly rain moistens all things on earth. With a mind of impartial great loving-kindness and a compassion that sees all beings as one with itself, the Bodhisattva regards all sentient beings as equal, expounding the Tathāgata’s wondrous Dharma. Its blessings reach all faculties without distinction of self or other, noble or lowly, just as rain falls on the earth, allowing all things to benefit from it. This is why it is called “pouring down the Dharma rain of amṛta.”

The purpose of Guanyin Bodhisattva’s teaching of the Dharma sound is primarily to help newly aspiring sentient beings cleanse the defilements of their minds and grow their good roots; to cause practitioners of the Two Vehicles (śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas, the “small vehicle” paths) to turn from the small toward the great and proceed directly to perfect awakening (bodhi); to end all suffering in the hell realms, free hungry ghosts from hunger and thirst, enable animals to escape the slaughter block, cause asuras to abandon all anger, prevent the five signs of decay from appearing in the heavenly realms, and bring auspiciousness everywhere in the human world. All classes of sentient beings can universally receive the benefits of the Dharma, give rise to the sprout of Dharma, step onto the path out of birth and death, and enter the city of nirvana.

“Flames of affliction” is a metaphor that compares afflictions to fire. Sentient beings are tormented and disturbed in body and mind by afflictions, as if their entire body were burning in a great fire, causing unbearable suffering—this is why it is called “flames of affliction.” What are afflictions? They are the agitated, unbalanced states of mind that disturb a being’s body and mind, preventing them from finding peace. The Great Perfection of Wisdom Treatise states: “In brief, afflictions are summed up as the three poisons; in full, they are the 98 bindings of the three realms.” There are many types of afflictions, classified in various ways as the four afflictions, six afflictions, ten afflictions, and so on. A person with intense, blazing afflictions will certainly lack wisdom. Without wisdom, they are often unable to let go of or see through circumstances, make life hard for themselves, and have body and mind that are constantly agitated and uneasy, as if trapped in a great bonfire, unable to free themselves. If we trace the root of afflictions, there are two causes: on one hand, sentient beings have had deep ignorance buried in the field of the eighth consciousness since time without beginning; on the other, they arise due to the pull and temptation of external circumstances.

The best way to eliminate afflictions is to listen to the Dharma, and let the Dharma water extinguish the flames of the mind. From a great compassionate mind as vast and gentle as a cloud of loving-kindness, Guanyin Bodhisattva responds to sentient beings by manifesting countless forms, teaching all kinds of wondrous Dharma, opening every door of skillful means, enabling sentient beings to extinguish the flames of their afflictions, and granting them the coolness of amṛta. If we too hold unshakable faith, strictly uphold pure precepts, and go further to use a great compassionate mind to pull sentient beings from suffering and give them happiness, our afflictions will naturally be cut off, and our body and mind will naturally be at peace. Do not think that upholding precepts and practicing the path is hardship; know that the suffering of cyclic existence (saṃsāra) and karmic retribution is far worse. I hope all of you can generate an aspiring mind, cultivate your own virtue, and gradually advance toward your ideal goals.

In disputes and lawsuits, in the terror of the battlefield, if you call to mind Guanyin’s power, all enmity will retreat and scatter.

Earlier in the prose section, we noted that Guanyin Bodhisattva is a “giver of fearlessness”; this verse speaks directly to sentient beings of this saha world, describing the Bodhisattva’s gift of fearlessness that can dispel all terror. “Litigation” refers to arguments and lawsuits. When people cannot live together in harmony, they often start disputes over trivial matters, and end up facing each other in court. When caught up in a lawsuit, one inevitably feels fear of losing the case; this all stems from an inability to calm the mind. If you encounter such a situation, reverently recite the holy name of Guanyin Bodhisattva, calm your own spirit, and seek a good resolution, and you will be free from the suffering of litigation.

In this world, conflicts between people are terrifying enough, but conflicts between nations are even more devastating. War unsettles the minds of the people, who live in fear day and night; when two armies clash, countless lives are lost, so some say, “War is cruel.” But most of human history has been written in the ink of war. To put out the flames of war, we should all the more constantly recite the Bodhisattva’s name, contemplate the Bodhisattva’s great compassion and loving-kindness, and keep the path of world peace in mind, so that we may be free from the terror of clashing armies and hails of bullets.

All litigation stems from imbalance and unfairness in the mind, as the saying goes: “The human being is the vessel of the mind; the mind is the master of form.” If a person’s mind is open, spacious, and peaceful, no internal “thieves of the home” (i.e., defilements) will arise, and no external evil can invade; at all times, a harmonious, auspicious energy will prevail. If the mind is at peace within, one will certainly be loving and compassionate without, and will never fight or sue others. This is why to “repel external threats” one must first “settle the inner self.” If you constantly recite the name of Guanyin Bodhisattva, rely on the Bodhisattva’s stabilizing power of the five contemplations, and embody the Bodhisattva’s great fearless spirit, the armies of afflictions and demonic enmity will naturally be defeated, and you will no longer suffer from litigation or the pain of war and weapons.

Wondrous Sound, Guanyin the Sound-Observer; Brahma Sound, Ocean-Tide Sound; surpassing all sounds of the world, therefore one must constantly recite.

Earlier in the text, we mentioned Guanyin Bodhisattva’s five contemplations; here we speak of the Bodhisattva’s five sounds. The five sounds arise from the five contemplations. More specifically, the five contemplations are the Bodhisattva’s contemplative wisdom, while the five sounds are the objects of that contemplation. The “five contemplations” and “five sounds” are used to reveal the Bodhisattva’s supreme and wondrous virtues, and explain the reason for Guanyin Bodhisattva’s name.

“Wondrous Sound” refers to a subtle, wondrous sound. This subtle sound is the fundamental nature of sound itself; it fills the entire Dharma realm, pervades everywhere without exception, and is not limited by time or space. Because it pervades all places, it can manifest in response to time, place, and the capacities of sentient beings, in accordance with conditions. Since this subtle fundamental nature pervades the entire Dharma realm, we cannot use ordinary worldly views to fathom the nature of “sound.” If you understand the heart essence of the Lotus Sutra, then mountain wind, crashing waves, the sound of streams, birdsong, even the voices of sentient beings—none of these are anything but manifestations of wondrous sound. The ability to observe the sounds of the world is originally an inconceivable, unfathomable subtle fundamental nature. This subtle nature not only holds all sounds, but is also the source from which all sounds arise; this is why it is called “Wondrous Sound.”

These five sounds do not refer exclusively to the Bodhisattva. For example, “Wondrous Sound” can also refer specifically to the sound of reciting and holding the name of Guanyin Bodhisattva, for the sound of reciting the Bodhisattva’s holy name is also pure, subtle, and inconceivable; this is why it is called “Wondrous Sound.”

“Guanyin (Observer of Sounds)” means observing the sounds of sentient beings reciting [the name] in the world, and responding with a compassionate mind to save and ferry them. This “observing the sounds of beings and providing them with aid” is the great function of the wondrous sound fundamental nature, which is why the Bodhisattva is called “Guanyin (Observer of Sounds).”

“Brahma Sound”: “brahma” means pure. Because both the wondrous sound of contemplation and the sounds of sentient beings seeking help that are observed are completely pure, it is called “Brahma Sound.” The Avatamsaka Sutra states: “Expounding pure, subtle, and wondrous Brahma sound, proclaiming the supreme, unsurpassed right Dharma; those who hear it are joyful, and attain the pure, wondrous path.” The Words and Phrases of the Lotus Sutra also says: “The Buddha’s attained pure sound is the most wondrous, called Brahma Sound.” This is the great difference between ordinary sentient beings and transcendent sages. Because the minds of all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas are pure, all sounds that come from them are kind and loving words, teaching the pure, right Dharma, causing those who hear them to feel admiration and yearning, and to generate the mind for liberation from birth and death. Ordinary people are not so: every thought and impulse of their mind is tied to defilement; as soon as they open their mouths, it is killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, and false speech, causing others to have impure thoughts, generate greed, and constantly sink into the ocean of desire, unable to escape. Compared to the pure sounds of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, the difference is like that between heaven and an abyss.

“Ocean-Tide Sound” uses the ocean tide as a metaphor: the pure Brahma sound enables those who seek help to attain benefit suited to their capacities, and be liberated at the appropriate time, just as the ebb and flow of the ocean tide follows a fixed schedule, never missing its appointed hour. Moreover, the Bodhisattva’s teaching of the Dharma is like the ocean tide: majestic and surging, with a natural rhythm, resounding throughout the ten directions; like the vast ocean, it does not distinguish between small streams and large, pure and impure, but embraces all with compassion. Furthermore, Guanyin Bodhisattva saves the world with compassion, like the waters of the great ocean, which never cease flowing even for an instant, acting every moment, responding to time and place, teaching everywhere with skillful, spontaneous adaptation; this is why it is called “Ocean-Tide Sound.”

“Surpassing all sounds of the world” means that the Bodhisattva, abiding in true contemplation, has a sound as pure and lofty as Brahma sound, as regular and timely as the ocean tide. Moreover, the Bodhisattva views all sentient beings with an equal mind, teaching them to accord with the Buddha’s teachings above and align with the sentiments of the people below, to leave behind love and desire early, cease all defiled thoughts, and use a gentle, equitable sound to replace the sounds generated by the seven emotions. This is why the Bodhisattva’s five sounds are said to surpass all the differentiated sounds of the world. Some also say: when one recites and holds the name of Guanyin Bodhisattva, one’s mind becomes peaceful and pure, one’s recitation clear and elegant, each phrase full of sincerity, like Brahma sound, like ocean-tide sound; this sound surpasses all worldly sounds, which is why it is called “surpassing all sounds of the world.” The first explanation refers to the sound of the Bodhisattva teaching the Dharma for sentient beings, while the second refers to the sound of sentient beings reciting the holy name of the Great Being. Both explanations are valid; you need not cling to one particular interpretation and waste your energy on it.

Both Brahma sound and ocean-tide sound are supreme sounds that transcend all worldly sounds; for this reason, you must constantly and reverently recite the name of Guanyin Bodhisattva. How do you “constantly recite”? First, you must deeply understand in your heart all the various compassionate, other-benefiting merits and virtues of the Bodhisattva described in this chapter. Further, you must constantly recite the name, and constantly call to mind the Great Being’s merits and virtues as you recite. Only then are you truly holding and reciting Guanyin Bodhisattva.

In every thought, do not give rise to doubt: Guanyin, the pure and holy one, can be our refuge in suffering and mortal peril. The Bodhisattva possesses the supreme merits and virtues described above; as disciples of the Buddha, we must constantly keep him in mind. In these verses, the Buddha specially exhorts us that when we recite Guanyin Bodhisattva, we must “not give rise to doubt in any thought.”

The phrase "念念" (niàn niàn) refers to mental thoughts. When reciting the name of the Great Bodhisattva, one thought should follow the next without pause, leaving no gap between the preceding and following thought. If the chain breaks, you'll gain no benefit from the practice.

Beyond keeping the mind continually focused, the most crucial point is to "harbor no doubt." Doubt is the great enemy of faith. Every great undertaking is built on faith, and if you wish to enter the ocean of Dharma, only those with sincere and unwavering faith can succeed. If even a single moment of doubt arises amid your steady practice, the path to awakening will be blocked. Once doubt appears, faith wavers; even if you've heard the true Dharma, you'll hesitate and be unable to recite with genuine sincerity, making it hard to receive the Bodhisattva's response. So out of great compassion, the Buddha repeatedly warned: believing in one thought and doubting in the next simply won't do. Only those who maintain unbroken mindfulness and unshakable faith can receive the true benefits of the practice.

Religion rests on faith, and every great spiritual achievement is accomplished through faith. This differs from scholarly pursuit, which takes doubt as its starting point. The fundamental truths of religion stand above intellectual inquiry, relying on faith where intellect cannot reach. One must therefore possess a heart of unshakable, sincere faith to realize its effects.

The phrase "Guanyin the Pure Sage" praises the subtle, wondrous merits of Bodhisattva Guanyin. We can also interpret the three characters of "Guanyin" from another angle. "World" (世) refers to the phenomena of the mundane world marked by the three calamities and seven kinds of suffering. "Observation" (观) refers to the five contemplations mentioned earlier. "Sound" (音) refers to the five sounds noted previously. "Pure Sage" (净圣) means a pure and holy being. These two characters further clarify Guanyin's identity, making clear that this Bodhisattva is no ordinary cultivator. He is a past Buddha, the Tathagata Correct Dharma Bright, who has already cut off the three obstructions and realized the three virtues. Out of compassion for the suffering beings of the Saha world, he turned back his great vessel of mercy to teach and deliver sentient beings as a pure and holy one.

"Delivers from suffering, death, and calamity": "suffering" refers to the various physical and mental distresses we undergo while living in the world. "Death" is the end of life. "Calamity" refers to natural disasters and the like. In this boundless sea of suffering, only Guanyin Bodhisattva can save us from sorrow, death, and peril, and be our true refuge. He is like a loving father and a compassionate mother; as long as you're willing to keep him in mind, you'll surely receive boundless care and protection. That's why the verse says: "He can be our refuge."

"He possesses all merits, looks on sentient beings with compassionate eyes, his accumulation of blessings is as vast as the sea; therefore we should bow in reverence." This verse praises Guanyin Bodhisattva for his immeasurable wisdom and blessings, and at the same time urges all beings to "bow in reverence to Guanyin Bodhisattva."

"He possesses all merits": the word "all" here cannot be counted or measured. The merits Guanyin Bodhisattva has accomplished—his spiritual powers, wisdom, and skillful means—are immeasurable and boundless, beyond calculation, beyond the reach of thought or speech. The word "all" is used simply to express this boundlessness. In the verses of this chapter, "He has served hundreds of billions of Buddhas" refers to his accumulation of immeasurable merit for his own benefit. "He skillfully responds in all places" refers to his boundless merit cultivated for the benefit of others. Since Guanyin's merits, both for self and for others, are immeasurable, he is called "one who possesses all merits."

What is "merit and virtue"? The Shengman jing bao ku (upper scroll) states: "When evil is exhausted, it is called 'merit'; when goodness is full, it is called 'virtue.' Virtue also means 'attainment'—what is attained through the cultivation of merit, and so is called merit and virtue." The ninth chapter of the Dasheng yizhang says: "When we speak of merit and virtue, 'merit' refers to function: goodness has the function of nourishing and benefiting, hence it is called 'merit.' This merit is the virtue belonging to wholesome actions, so together they are called 'merit and virtue.'" To put it simply: "Merit is the achievement of saving the world; virtue is the cultivation of self; together they are called merit and virtue." For oneself, merit and virtue mean ceasing evil and cultivating good; for others, they mean delivering and saving sentient beings.

Guanyin Bodhisattva is fully endowed with all merits and virtues, and looks on every being with the eyes of great compassion and loving-kindness, without the slightest distinction. Precisely because he "looks on sentient beings with compassionate eyes," his very body is a gathering place of blessings and wisdom. And it's not only the Bodhisattva himself: all beings who receive his blessings and wisdom are benefited as deeply and broadly as the sea, without increase or decrease. Since the Bodhisattva possesses such vast blessings and wisdom and brings boundless benefit to sentient beings, we should take refuge in him and bow in reverence to repay his kindness. This is why the verse says: "His accumulation of blessings is as vast as the sea; therefore we should bow in reverence."

Beyond bowing to and reciting the name of Guanyin Bodhisattva, we must also constantly remind ourselves that within our minds, in the tathāgatagarbha, there already exists immeasurable, inexhaustible Buddha-nature merit and virtue—a treasure that can never be depleted. The reason the tathāgatagarbha nature fails to manifest is that it is obscured by worldly attachments and deluded thoughts. Master Jingxi once lamented with deep sorrow: "How tragic that the secret treasury does not appear! It is because it is covered by the three delusions: ignorance dims the nature of dharmas; the dust-and-sand delusion obstructs the work of guiding others; the delusion of views and thoughts blocks the realization of emptiness and stillness. Yet the substance of these three delusions is itself empty and false."

Once we understand that the secret treasury fails to appear because of the covering of the three delusions, we should set to work at once—break through ignorance, sever the delusions of views and thoughts, and cut off the dust-and-sand delusion. Then the gate of the secret treasury will surely open, and all merit and virtue will be fully realized. And if we treat all sentient beings with a compassionate heart, our self-nature of true suchness will become crystal clear and pure, untainted by a single speck of dust. In this way, we will manifest the same immeasurable accumulation of blessings and merit as Guanyin Bodhisattva.

In the Song dynasty, a monk named Ji Zong asked a monk who had come from India: "What is the purpose of the rosary Guanyin Bodhisattva holds in his hand?"

"To recite Guanyin's name!" replied the Indian monk.

"Then why does he recite his own name?" Ji Zong pressed.

"Because seeking help from others is never as good as seeking from oneself!" the monk answered.

From this exchange, we can see that when we recite Guanyin's name and bow to Guanyin, we're really reciting our own name and bowing to our own true nature. That's why I said earlier: "Reciting Guanyin, bowing to Guanyin, is not as good as becoming a Guanyin yourself." Now that we understand the Bodhisattva's path of practice and his greatness, we should know how to emulate him and strive to follow his example. I hope each of you can "take the Bodhisattva's mind as your own mind, the Bodhisattva's resolve as your own resolve," and become a Guanyin Bodhisattva of great compassion and loving-kindness, admired by all.

The exposition of the verses is now complete. However, the Sanskrit version of the Universal Gate chapter contains the following passage that was not translated into Chinese. I transcribe it here:

Compassionate one who saves the world, Will in the future attain perfect awakening, Able to extinguish the suffering of worry and fear, I bow in reverence to Guanyin the World-Hearer. The honored Bhikshu Dharmakara, Foremost among those seated, Lord of the World, Practiced for hundreds of kalpas, And realized the supreme, pure awakening. He constantly attends at the right side, Fans the honored Amitabha to keep him cool, Displays the magical power of samadhi, And makes offerings to all Buddhas. The pure land of the West, The land of peace and bliss, the Land of Ultimate Bliss, Amitabha has gone to that land, The tamer of men, the honored one. That land has no women, No impure phenomena are seen there; The Buddha's children reborn there now Enter the treasury of the lotus. There, the Buddha of Immeasurable Light, On his pure and wondrous lotus throne, From his lion seat radiates a hundred lights, Like the king of sala trees. Such a World-Honored One, Unequaled throughout the three realms— I praise and worship him, accumulating merit, To swiftly become the supreme being.

At that time, the Bodhisattva Dharaṇī (Earth-Holding) rose from his seat, came before the Buddha, and said: "World-Honored One! If there are sentient beings who hear this Universal Gate chapter of Bodhisattva Guanyin, understand his unobstructed deeds, and the spiritual powers he displays in the Universal Gate, you should know that such people have no small merit."

"At that time" refers to the moment when the Buddha had finished answering the questions of Bodhisattva Akṣayamati, telling him that Guanyin Bodhisattva's "accumulation of blessings is as vast as the sea; therefore we should bow in reverence." At that moment, the Earth-Holding Bodhisattva rose from his seat, went before the Buddha, and addressed him: "World-Honored One! If there are sentient beings fortunate enough to hear the Universal Gate chapter of Bodhisattva Guanyin, learn that Guanyin Bodhisattva employs the inconceivable power of his three karmic actions—body, speech, and mind—to deliver sentient beings, opens the door of skillful means to manifest all forms that beings wish to see, displays spiritual powers to relieve the suffering of sentient beings—you should know that, having heard the Universal Gate chapter, such people will generate great faith, practice accordingly, attain the wisdom of Guanyin's Universal Gate, enjoy boundless benefit, and acquire immeasurable merit."

This passage speaks of the merit of hearing the Dharma. Practitioners with proper faith should hear the true Dharma as much as possible, for only by hearing the Dharma can one enter the path to Buddhahood. Some think: "Buddhism emphasizes practical cultivation—what use is hearing teachings?" This view is mistaken. All sacred scriptures spoken by the Buddha point the way to Buddhist practice. Without hearing the true Dharma, how would you know how to transcend birth and death? How would you know how to seek rebirth in a pure land? How would you know how to take the next step forward from the highest point you've reached? The sutras frequently praise the merit of hearing the Dharma, for all merit in Buddhism flows from hearing the Dharma. Bodhisattva Nagarjuna said there are three sources for hearing the Dharma: (1) hearing the Dharma directly from the Buddha; (2) hearing the Dharma from the Buddha's disciples; (3) hearing the Dharma from the scriptures. The Buddha has long since entered parinirvana, and for us it is impossible to hear the Buddha teach in person unless our cultivation has reached a high level. Today, those who study Buddhism can only hear the Dharma from the Buddha's disciples, or come to understand the Dharma through their own study of sutras and treatises. Though we were not born in the Buddha's time and cannot personally hear the wonderful Dharma spoken by the Buddha himself, we can still gain guidelines for practice and the real benefit of the Dharma from these two sources. This is also called "hearing the Dharma," and the study of Buddhism begins with this.

This chapter states: "Those who hear this Universal Gate chapter of Bodhisattva Guanyin, understand his unobstructed deeds, and the spiritual powers he displays in the Universal Gate, should know that such people have no small merit." What exactly are the merits of hearing the true Dharma? Briefly, there are four:

1. Through hearing, one knows all dharmas. By listening to the true Dharma, we can distinguish wholesome dharmas from unwholesome ones. Knowing the wholesome, we follow and practice them, so that all goodness grows; knowing the unwholesome, we quickly cut them off and will not commit them again. At the same time, by hearing the Buddhist Dharma, we come to understand the difference between contaminated and uncontaminated dharmas, and know which to cultivate and which to abandon. These various dharmas—wholesome, unwholesome, contaminated, and uncontaminated—can ward off all evils. "All evils" refers to unwholesome physical actions and unwholesome mental thoughts. Because of hearing the Dharma, we know what unwholesome dharmas are and what karmic results follow from unwholesome actions, and we gradually become vigilant, restrain ourselves, extinguish unwholesome thoughts, and block the arising of unwholesome intentions.
2. [Note: the original text skips the second numbered point, apparently a copy error; the original jumps from point 1 to point 3]
3. Through hearing, one cuts off meaningless pursuits. By listening to the true Dharma, we can abandon all kinds of meaningless activities. What are meaningless activities? Any actions that bring no benefit to one's own moral cultivation or to sentient beings are called meaningless. For example, some people earnestly generate the aspiration to seek the path of liberation, but stray into wrong paths; even if they practice all kinds of austerities, they still cannot attain liberation. The Buddha calls such foolish behavior that brings unnecessary suffering "meaningless." When we study Buddhism and hear the truths spoken by the Buddha, we naturally stay far from meaningless pursuits, follow the right path, waste not a single moment, and never squander our efforts for no gain.
4. Through hearing, one attains nirvana. By hearing the Buddhist Dharma and practicing in accordance with it, we can attain the pure and blissful state of nirvana.

If this is the case, does it not follow that all merit in Buddhism comes entirely from hearing the Dharma? From this we can see that the scripture's statement, "such people have no small merit," is absolutely true.

The Earth-Holding Bodhisattva. Some say this Earth-Holding Bodhisattva is an alternate name for Earth Store Bodhisattva. If so, everyone knows he is a great Bodhisattva who has made a great vow and set a great resolve. All Buddhist disciples have a deep impression of his fierce, courageous vow: "Only when all beings are delivered will I attain bodhi; only when the hells are empty will I become a Buddha." The Earth Store Bodhisattva and the Ten Wheels Sutra states: "His precept-keeping is as firm as the sublime Mount Sumeru; his diligence is indestructible like a vajra jewel; his patience is unmoving like the earth." This alludes to the earth's capacity to nourish and store all things. The Yanpin Dizang jing zhi tan chao also states: "Earth Store is an alternate name for the fundamental mind of all sentient beings."

In the Śūraṅgama Sūtra, the Earth-Holding Bodhisattva personally recounts how he came to attain the enlightened state of perfect penetration: "In the past, when the Tathagata Universal Light appeared in the world, I left the home life and became a bhikshu, practicing the dhūta austerities. Though I had no deep scholarship, I had a heart of great kindness and a burning desire to help others. I built bridges and paved roads, never shirking even the hardest work if it benefited sentient beings. I spent my days by bridges and roadsides: whenever I met someone carrying a heavy load, I would carry it for them and help them across. Whenever I saw a rough or uneven road, I filled in the low spots and leveled the high ones until the path was smooth. This is why everyone called me 'Earth-Holding.' Though I worked with a devoted and sincere heart wherever I went, I saw no result. I continued this diligent practice 'through countless eons and the appearance of immeasurable Buddhas.' Later, I met the Tathagata Vaiśabhū, and attended on him when he went to the king's palace to receive an offering. The Tathagata Vaiśabhū kindly stroked my head and taught me: 'You have done many things to benefit sentient beings and relieved the suffering of many. For a person to reach this level of dedication is truly rare—but this is only material assistance. You should put more effort into cultivating your mind. Know that the unevenness of the external earth arises from the unevenness of your inner mind. When your own mind becomes level, then all external mountains, rivers, and lands will be level without exception.' After hearing this teaching from the Tathagata Vaiśabhū, I finally understood the principle 'a level mind makes a level land.' My mind opened at once, my afflictions were suddenly cut off, and from then on I focused on cultivating the mind, practiced with diligence, and attained perfect penetration." This is the origin of the Earth-Holding Bodhisattva's name and the process of his cultivation in the causal ground.

Why is he called Earth-Holding? According to the Baoji yun jing, a Bodhisattva who possesses ten dharmas is said to have the samadhi of Earth-Holding:

1. Like the earth, which is vast and boundless, the Bodhisattva is likewise boundless in merits, wisdom, adornments, vows, and practices.
2. Like the earth, on which all beings rely and receive whatever they desire, fully satisfying their needs without obstruction, the Bodhisattva likewise gives all beings the six pāramitās and every necessary provision, with no limits or obstacles in his heart.
3. Like the earth, which has no preference, dislike, joy, or hatred, the Bodhisattva likewise nurtures sentient beings without seeking any return.
4. Like the earth, which accepts all the rain poured down from heaven without being overwhelmed, the Bodhisattva likewise accepts all the Dharma rain poured down by all Buddhas in their great clouds of compassion, and can fully uphold all that is taught.
5. Like the earth, on which all plants, forests, and sentient beings rely for walking, standing, sitting, and lying down, the Bodhisattva is likewise the foundation for all sentient beings' practice of wholesome paths, the learning of the two vehicles, and the attainment of nirvana.
6. Like the earth, on which all seeds depend to grow, the Bodhisattva is likewise the foundation on which all wholesome karmic seeds of gods and humans grow.
7. Like the earth, which produces all kinds of precious gems, the Bodhisattva likewise produces all merit and wholesome treasures and every source of bliss.
8. Like the earth, which produces wondrous medicines that cure all illnesses, the Bodhisattva likewise produces all Dharma medicines that can cure all afflictive diseases.
9. Like the earth, which cannot be shaken by wind or harmed by gnats, bees, or scorpions, the Bodhisattva likewise cannot be disturbed by any internal or external cause of distress.
10. Like the earth, which cannot be frightened by a lion's roar, the trumpeting of elephants, or thunder and lightning, the Bodhisattva likewise cannot be shaken by the ninety-five kinds of non-Buddhist paths.

Possessing these ten dharmas is called the samadhi of Earth-Holding, and so he is called Earth-Holding Bodhisattva.

When the Buddha spoke this Universal Gate chapter, 84,000 sentient beings in the assembly all generated the unsurpassed, unexcelled mind of anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi. The Earth-Holding Bodhisattva was right to say that those who hear the Universal Gate chapter have no small merit. After the Buddha finished speaking, not only did the Earth-Holding Bodhisattva gain great merit, but all 84,000 members of the audience who were present also generated the unsurpassed, unexcelled mind of anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi. The number 84,000 is used to indicate the great size of the audience. In the Buddhist sutras, 84,000 is commonly used as a representative number to denote a very large quantity. In reality, when the Buddha taught, all the eight classes of celestial and mundane beings gladly listened—the audience was far more than 84,000. Take the Lotus Sūtra as an example. In the Wonderful Sound Bodhisattva chapter, it says: "Together with the Bodhisattva Wonderful Sound came 84,000 people." It also says: "Surrounded by 84,000 bodhisattvas." And: "These 84,000 bodhisattvas attained the samadhi of manifesting all forms of bodies." In the Appearance of the Jeweled Stupa chapter, it says: "He holds the 84,000 treasuries of the Dharma, the twelve divisions of the scriptures, and teaches them to others." The Medicine King chapter says: "After the fire was extinguished, they collected the relics, fashioned 84,000 jeweled vases, and built 84,000 stūpas." The Buddha also said: "I use 84,000 Dharma gates to counter the 84,000 afflictions of sentient beings." Clearly, 84,000 is simply a way of saying "a great many," and does not refer to an exact count.

"Unsurpassed, unexcelled" means the Buddha-fruit is the supreme, highest fruit, with no other fruit equal to it. Followers of the two vehicles have indeed escaped the three realms, but their path is not the ultimate; they are not "unexcelled." The Buddha is the utmost extreme, so he is called "unexcelled." To generate the aspiration to attain Buddhahood is called generating the "unexcelled mind." Whoever can generate this mind and practice the Buddha's path is equal to the Buddha. There are several levels of generating the mind [of awakening]:

1. Generating the mind in name only, which refers to the five ranks of beginner disciples;
2. Generating a mind resembling the true mind, which is the purification of the six sense faculties;
3. Generating the mind in partial truth, which refers to those from the first bhūmi upward;
4. Generating the true mind, which is generating the unsurpassed, supreme bodhicitta.

Anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi is a Sanskrit term, translated as "unexcelled, equal, and perfect awakening"—meaning there is no higher awakening. "Perfect awakening" differs from the ignorance of ordinary beings and the false awakening of non-Buddhist externalists. "Equal" differs from the partial emptiness of the two vehicles: followers of the two vehicles cannot achieve equality between ultimate and conventional truth, the perfect interpenetration without obstruction; only Buddhas and Bodhisattvas can. "Unexcelled" differs from the partial realization of Bodhisattvas. Though Bodhisattvas can view ultimate and conventional truth as equal, and view enemy and loved one without distinction, not falling into the extremes of emptiness or existence, their partial realization is not yet complete, their practice has not reached perfect fulfillment, so they are still called "those who have something above them." The Buddha has cut off the beginningless ignorance of the primal nature, his great awakening is fully complete, so he is called "unexcelled, equal, perfect awakening." Generating the mind of anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi, in short, is generating bodhicitta. Taking the Buddha-fruit, perfectly accomplished through wisdom and compassion, as one's goal, rousing the aspiration to strive upward, and vowing to attain Buddhahood—this is generating bodhicitta. Buddhahood is attainable by everyone. I hope all of you can generate bodhicitta, seek the Buddha's path above, and deliver sentient beings below.

The purpose of listening to sutras and hearing the Dharma is to find the way out of suffering. We rely on hearing the Dharma to learn the correct path of practice, then cultivate according to what the scriptures teach, so as not to go astray. If you treat listening to sutras as a form of entertainment, or use what you hear to arm yourself for winning arguments and showing off your eloquence, you're misusing your mind—and that's truly a pity! Now that the exposition of the Universal Gate chapter is complete, I hope you will, through this teaching, come to realize that your own mind contains the same true mind as Guanyin Bodhisattva. After hearing this subtle and profound Dharma gate, you should learn to walk in the Bodhisattva's footsteps: turn the greedy mind into a compassionate mind, turn the hateful mind into a courageous mind, turn the deluded mind into a wise mind; align your mind with Guanyin's mind; follow in the Bodhisattva's path; and become a Guanyin Bodhisattva of great compassion and loving-kindness, who saves beings from suffering and relieves them from hardship!