The Sins of Mahādeva
Translated by Xuanzang
From the Abhidharma-mahāvibhāsā-śāstra[/b]
Once upon a time, there was a merchant in the kingdom of Mathurā. He married while still a youth and soon his wife gave birth to a baby boy. The child, who had a pleasing appearance, was given the name Mahādeva.
Before long, the merchant went on a long journey to another country, taking with him rich treasures. Engaging in commercial ventures as he wended his way, a long time passed without his return. The son, meanwhile, had grown up and committed incest with his mother. Later on, he heard that his father was returning and he became fearful at heart. Together with his mother, he contrived a plan whereby he murdered his father. Thus did he commit his first cardinal sin.
This deed of his gradually came to light, whereupon, taking his mother, he fled to the city of Pātaliputra where they secluded themselves. Later, he encountered a monk-arhat from his native land who had received the support of his family. Again, fearing that his crime would be exposed, he devised a plan whereby he murdered the monk. Thus did he commit his second cardinal sin.
Mahādeva became despondent. Later, when he saw that his mother was having illicit relations, he said to her in a raging anger: “Because of this affair, I have committed two serious crimes. Drifting about in an alien land, I am forlorn and ill at ease. Now you have abandoned me and fallen in love with another man. How could anyone endure such harlotry as this?” Thereupon he found an opportune time to murder his mother. He had committed his third cardinal sin.
Inasmuch as he had not entirely cut off the strength of his roots of goodness, Mahādeva grew deeply and morosely regretful. Whenever he tried to sleep, he became ill at ease. He considered by what means his serious crimes might be eradicated. Later, he heard that Buddhist monks were in possession of a method for eradicating crimes. So he went to the monastery known as Kukkutārāma. Outside its gate, he saw a monk walking slowly and meditating. The monk recited a hymn which went:
If someone has committed a serious crime,
He can eradicate it by cultivating goodness;
He could then illuminate the world,
Like the moon emerging from behind a screen of clouds.
When Mahādeva heard this, he jumped for joy. He knew that, by converting to Buddhism, his crimes could certainly be eradicated. Therefore he went to visit a monk in his quarters. Earnestly and persistently, Mahādeva entreated the monk to ordain him as a novice. When the monk saw how persistent Mahādeva's entreaties were, he ordained him as a novice without making an investigation or asking any questions. He allowed him to retain the name Mahādeva, and offered him instruction in the Buddhist precepts and prohibitions.
Now Mahādeva was quite brilliant and so, not long after he had entered the priesthood, he was able to recite and adhere to the text and the significance of the Buddhist canon. His words were clear and precise and he was adept at edifying others in the faith. In the city of Pātaliputra, there were none who did not turn to Mahādeva in reverence. The king heard of this and repeatedly invited him into the inner precincts of the palace. There he would respectfully provide for Mahādeva's needs and invite him to lecture on the Law of the Buddha.
Mahādeva subsequently went to live in the monastery.
Mahādeva wished to make his disciples like him and be intimately attached to him. He cleverly created opportunities whereby he was able to note and differentiate the degree of achievement each monk had attained along the four stages of religious perfection. Whereupon one of his disciples kowtowed to him and said: “The arhat ought to have experiential knowledge. How is it that none of us have this sort of self-awareness?”
Mahādeva informed him, saying, “But arhats also have ignorance. You should not, then, lack faith in yourselves. I tell you that, of the various forms of ignorance, there are broadly two types. The first is that which is defiling; the saint is without this type. The second is that which does not defile; the saint still has this type of ignorance. On account of this, you are unable to have full awareness of yourselves.” This is termed “the origin of the second false view.”
At another time, his disciples said to him: “We have heard that the sages have transcended all doubts. How is it that we still harbor doubts in regard to the truth?”
Again, Mahādeva informed them, saying, “The arhat also has his doubts and suspicions. Of doubts, there are two types. The first is that of muddleheadedness; the arhat has excised this type. The second derives from mistakes in judgment; the arhat has not yet excised this type. The self-englightened have made great accomplishments in spite of this. How, then, can you who are mere listeners be without doubt regarding the manifold truths and thereby allow yourselves to feel humbled?” This is termed “the origin of the third false view.”
Later, when the disciples opened the sūtras to read, they learned that the arhat is possessed of the eye of sage wisdom. Through self-emancipation he is able to attain experiential knowledge of self. And so they spoke to their master, saying, “If we are arhats, we ought to have experiential knowledge of self. How is it, then, that we must be initiated by our master into that fact and are without the direct insights that would enable us to have experiential knowledge of the self?”
To this, Mahādeva replied: “Though one is an arhat, he must still be initiated by others. He cannot rely on self-awareness. Even for the likes of Śāriputra who was foremost in wisdom and Maudgalyāyana who was foremost in supernatural power, if the Buddha had not remarked upon their abilities, they would not have gained self-awareness. How, then, can those who are initiated by others into that fact have self-understanding of it? Therefore you should not be endlessly inquiring in regard to this.” This is termed “the origin of the fourth false view.”
Mahādeva had, indeed, committed a host of crimes. However, since he had not destroyed his roots of goodness, during the middle of the night he would reflect upon the seriousness of his crimes and upon where he would eventually undergo bitter sufferings. Beset by worry and fright, he would often cry out, “Oh, how painful it is!” His disciples who were dwelling nearby were startled when they heard this and, in the early morning, came to ask him whether he were out of sorts.
Mahādeva replied, “I am feeling very much at ease.”
“But why,” asked his disciples, “did you cry out last night, ‘Oh, how painful it is!’?”
He proceeded to inform them: “I was proclaiming the holy way of the Buddha. You should not think this strange. In speaking of the holy way, if one is not utterly sincere in the anguish with which he heralds it, it will never become manifest at that moment when one's life reaches its end. Therefore, last night I cried out several times, ‘Oh, how painful it is!’” This is termed “the origin of the fifth false view.”
Mahādeva subsequently brought together the aforementioned five false views and made a hymn:
Enticement by others, ignorance,
Hesitation, initiation by another,
The Way is manifested because one shouts:
This is called the genuine Buddhist teaching.
With the passage of time, the Theravāda monks in the Kukkutārāma gradually died off. Once, on the night of the fifteenth of the month when the monks were holding their regular spiritual retreat, it was Mahādeva's turn to ascend the pulpit and give the reading of the prohibitions. He then recited the hymn which he had composed. Of those in the company of monks at that time, be they learners or learned, be they of much wisdom, attentive to the precepts, or cultivators of wisdom, when they heard what Mahādeva said, there was no one who refrained from reproving him: “For shame! Stupid man! How could you say such a thing? This is unheard of in the canon.” Thereupon they countered his hymn, saying:
Enticement by others, ignorance,
Hesitation, initiation by another,
The Way is manifested because one shouts:
What you say is not the Buddhist teaching.
Upon this, an unruly controversy erupted that lasted the whole night long. By the next morning, the factions had become even larger. The folk of all classes, up to and including important ministers, came from the city one after another to mediate but none of them could bring a halt to the argument.
The king heard of it, and himself went to visit the monastery. At this point, the two factions each stated their obstinate position. When the king had finished listening, he too, became filled with doubt. He inquired of Mahādeva, “Who is wrong and who is right? With which faction should we align ourselves?”
“In the Sūtra on Regulations,” replied Mahādeva, “it is said that, if one wishes to terminate controversy, one should go along with the voice of the majority.”
The king proceeded to order the two factions of monks to separate themselves. In the faction of the saints and sages, although there were many who were elders, the total number of monks was small. In Mahādeva's faction, although there were few who were elders, the total number of common monks was large. So the king followed the majority and allied himself with Mahādeva's crowd. The remainder of the common monks were reproved and made to submit. The matter concluded, the king returned to his palace.
The controversy in the Kukkutārāma, however, did not cease. Afterward, the monastery split into two groups in accordance with the two different views. The first was called Sarvāstivāda and the second was called Mahāsamghika. When the saints and sages realized that the mass of monks were going counter to their principles, they departed from the Kukkutārāma with the intention of going to another place.
As soon as the ministers heard of this, they rushed to the king and reported. Hearing this, the king was outraged and issued an edict to his ministers which stated: “Let them all be taken to the edge of the Ganges River. Put them in a broken boat so that they will capsize in midstream. By this means, we shall test whether this lot is made up of saints or commoners.”
The ministers carried out the test as directed by the king's words. The saints and sages each brought into play his spiritual powers. They were like the Goose King vaulting through space. Furthermore, using their miraculous strength, they rescued from the boat those who had left the Kukkutārāma with them but who had not yet attained supernatural power. They manifested many miraculous transformations and assumed various shapes and forms. Next they mounted the heavens and went off to the northwest. When the king heard this, he was deeply abashed. Stifled with regret, he fell on the ground in a swoon and revived only when water was splashed on his face. He swiftly dispatched a man to find out where they had gone. Upon the return of the envoy, the king learned that they were in Kashmir. He persistently entreated them to return but the monks all refused to obey his command. The king then donated to them the whole of the land of Kashmir and constructed monasteries to accommodate the large group of saints and sages. The monasteries were given names in accordance with the various shapes the monks had assumed during their flight—for example, “Pigeon Garden.” Altogether there were five hundred such monasteries. Again he dispatched envoys to contribute precious jewels and make arrangements for the articles of daily living so that the monks would be provided for. Ever after this, the land of Kashmir has had large numbers of saints and sages who have upheld the Law of the Buddha. Its transmission and reformulation there are still very much in evidence to this day.
Having lost this large group of monks, the king of Pātaliputra took the initiative in providing for the monks of Kukkutārāma. After some time, as Mahādeva was making an excursion into the city, a physiognomist chanced to see him and secretly told his fortune: “Seven days from today, the life of this disciple of Buddha will certainly come to an end.”
When Mahādeva's disciples heard this, they were frightfully worried and informed him of it. He then declared to them, “I have known this for a long time already.”
After they had returned to the Kukkutārāma, he sent his disciples to spread out over the whole of the city of Pātaliputra. When the king, his ministers, and the ascetics heard the words, “In seven days I shall enter Nirvana,” there was none but who sighed with grief.
With the arrival of the seventh day, Mahādeva died as he had predicted. The king, his ministers, and the folk of all classes from the city were saddened and filled with affectionate longing. They all undertook to provide fragrant firewood as well as ghee, floral incense, and similar materials. These were assembled in a given place where the cremation was to take place. Each time the man who held the fire to light the wood approached it, his fire would go out. All sorts of plans were devised but it simply would not light. A soothsayer who was present spoke to the crowd: “The deceased cannot consume such splendid crematory materials as those you have provided. It is fitting that the excrement of dogs be smeared on him.”
They acted in accordance with his words and the fire erupted in flames. In seconds, the blaze had burned itself out. Suddenly, there was nothing but ashes. In the end, a howling wind blew by and scattered them everywhere till nothing was left. This is due to his having been formerly the originator of the false views. All who have wisdom ought to pay heed to this example.
Translated by Victor H. Mair.
Source: Mair, Victor H., ed. The Columbia Anthology of Traditional Chinese Literature. New York: Columbia University Press, 1994.
Topic: Asal Mula Aliran Mahasangika Menurut Teks Sarvastivada (Read 28602 times)