It's said to be a tour, but actually it's just a quick glance.
I drove from Wuhan to Nanchang for business. Take the expressway from Jiujiang to Nanchang, turn off at the Yongxiu intersection, and travel for about ten kilometers. There is a sign on the left side of the road that reads "Yunju Mountain Scenic Area Enters Here." The car turns from there and takes the shortcut up the mountain.
In late autumn, the scenery along the way is spectacular. The gurgling streams, small pools, and glass are as clear as juice. The rice stacks are in the fields, and it's quiet; the red leaves in the mountains are bright and lovely. The road up the mountain is winding and uneven. Amidst the bumps, I occasionally saw three or two pedestrians, farmers and village women. Suddenly, I felt like I was home.
Visiting Zhenru Zen Temple is one of my plans. Three years ago, I wrote a poem, and I will record the first half as follows:
Life is hard, the Buddha is of the same mind as me, daydreaming is heavy. It is not that the beauty abandoned Xuan Mian and traveled all over the south of the Yangtze River to visit the Buddhist forest. Deep in the mountains, on Hongye Road, Daoxiang Village.
The state of mountain climbing today is very close to the state of mind of my poem. This Yunju Mountain is actually not famous in Jiangxi, a city where famous mountains gather. The most famous one is Zhenru Zen Temple in Yunju Mountain.
Circle, circle, bump, bump. About twenty kilometers away, there are twists and turns, and a small village appears in front of you. From the road signs, we can see that we have reached the location of Yunju Mountain Scenic Area. The pure and clean gate of the Zhenru Zen Temple, nestled among the lush green pines and fir trees, is so peaceful and remote, which captured my feeling of "taking refuge" even more strongly.
one
"Zhaozhou Pass".
This horizontal plaque hangs high on the mountain gate of Zhenru Zen Temple. The font is clumsy, but I feel the dazzling cold light exhaled from the pyrotechnic strokes.
Monk Zhaozhou was a famous Zen master in ancient China. The two books "Gu Zunsu Quotations" edited by Yi Zang of the Song Dynasty and "Wudeng Huiyuan" compiled by Puji, another monk of the Song Dynasty, both contain the quotations and deeds of monks from Zhaozhou. His weird questions and answers and behavior make people feel the most refined and pure Zen wisdom.
Let’s record a few paragraphs:
Question: "All dharmas return to oneness. Where does one return to?" The master said: "I made a collared shirt in Qingzhou, which weighed seven kilograms."
When the master arrived at Huang Bo, Bo closed the abbot's door upon seeing his arrival. The master put a fire in the Dharma hall and shouted: "Put out the fire! Put out the fire!" He opened the door and caught him and said, "Tao! Tao!" The master said, "After the thief has passed, draw your bow."
Asked, "How is the disciple himself?" The master said, "Have you eaten porridge?" The scholar said, "Have you eaten porridge." The master said, "Go and wash the alms bowl."
The master went to the hall and told the crowd: "The golden Buddha does not control the furnace, the wooden Buddha does not control the fire, the clay Buddha does not control the water, the true Buddha is sitting inside, Bodhi and Nirvana, the true nature of the Buddha is all just clothes that fit the body."
For those who do not study Zen, reading these quotations will feel like they are lost in the fog and have no idea what they are saying. Zen is neither "logical" nor "illogical". Therefore, even if you study Zen, you will not be able to understand the profound meaning of Zen if you do not practice "mind".
Zen cannot be explained because it does not exist in the realm of our experience, that is, in the category of "knowledge." Zen is unknowable. But Zen always follows us, like a shadow. Just like atoms and electrons, we deal with atoms and electrons every day, but no one has ever seen them. We usually say that truth can only be discovered, not created. The same is true for Zen, but Zen is still not the truth. Truth is knowable. "Knowledge" and "reason" are interconnected, but Zen can only "participate" and achieve "enlightenment" from "participation".
From "participation" and "enlightenment", this is the activity of "wisdom". All religions arise from suffering, and conversion to religion gives people a way to escape. And Zen, which is the special heart seal of the Buddha that originated from Chinese Buddhism, has its own unique spiritual vitality in the process of guiding people to get rid of their worries. During the Tang and Song dynasties, Zen flourished in China, and the lingering influence of Zen could be seen in the Ming Dynasty. After the Qing Dynasty, Zen declined, and in modern times, Zen has become extinct. Although temples everywhere are named as such-and-such Zen temple as usual, there is no Zen in the temple. In the Tang and Song dynasties, starting from the Sixth Patriarch Huineng, eminent monks and great virtues were surging, and Zen leaders were changing with each passing day. During those hundreds of years, Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism worked together and penetrated each other, laying a solid foundation for Chinese traditional culture. On the Buddhist side, it should be Zen Buddhism that played a decisive role in promoting Buddhism.
During that time, China produced a number of great Zen masters. Through the koans left behind, we can still get a glimpse of their profound wisdom. Monk Zhaozhou is an outstanding representative among them. He responded to people's questions, which seemed to be wrong, but the unique knowledge of Zen was deeply hidden in it. A disciple asked him, "All dharmas return to one, where does one go?" He replied, "I made a cloth shirt in Qingzhou, weighing seven kilograms." The green shirt is the cassock, which is also called the dharma robe. It seemed that Zhaozhou did not answer the disciple's question, but in fact he had already answered it. Oneness returns to the Buddha, or one is the Buddha, and the Buddha is one. Splitting is the fundamental characteristic of intelligence. One is divided into two, one is divided into three, one is divided into four, one is divided into five... This kind of intelligence is external and is mutually exclusive with Buddha nature. Buddhism talks about harmony. This harmony is a lump of harmony and is inseparable. Zhaozhou used cassocks as a metaphor for Buddha, hinting at a profound answer. This is a typical Zen tact.
Nowadays, the horizontal plaque "Zhaozhou Pass" hanging high on the mountain gate of this Zen temple is nothing less than a slap in the face to me. There are monks from Zhaozhou guarding the gate, so it is not easy to enter this temple gate. In this era where there are temples but no Zen, this plaque is also a warning. Zen practices inwardly, while the material age forces us to search outwardly. This is a sharp contradiction. In this context of the times, the special significance of "Zhaozhou Pass" has emerged. From this, I thought of a person.
two
This person is Monk Xuyun.
Last year at Baotong Temple in Wuhan, I bought a copy of "Sunday Chanting of Zen Buddhism". On the title page, there was a photo of an old monk printed on it, along with the inscription:
What's the reason for this idiot? There is no reason for the end of the law, and the absurd desire comes to the fore. Alas, this holy vein is threatening the autumn. If you don't care about your own affairs, you will worry about others. Go to the top of the solitary peak to fish for carp with a straight hook; go to the bottom of the sea and fry it over a fire. If you don't get the message, you will only feel sad. Laughter breaks through the void, scolding does not stay. I asked him why he didn't let it go, and he would stop when all the suffering in this life is over.
In the spring of the Wuxu year, Bhikkhu Xu Yun Huan traveled to the Zhenru Temple in Yunju Mountain at the age of 19.
From this I got to know Monk Xuyun and Yunjushan Zhenru Zen Temple. Later, I checked the relevant information. Only then did I learn that Monk Xuyun's common surname was Xiao. He was from Xiangxiang, Hunan, and came from an official family. Although he has lived a life of fine clothing and fine food since he was a child, he does not miss the gentle and wealthy land. When he was 19 years old, he secretly went to Yongquan Temple in Gushan, Fuzhou to become a monk. This monk Xuyun devoted himself to Buddha and was determined to practice hard. In the second year after becoming a monk, he became the 43rd generation descendant of the Rinzai Sect of Zen. Xuyun traveled to famous mountains and ancient temples all over the world in his life. He successively visited Tiantai Mountain, Putuo Mountain, Tiantong Temple, Ashoka Temple in Zhejiang, Santianzhu in Hangzhou, Tianning Temple in Changzhou, and Gaowen Temple in Yangzhou, where he studied Buddhist scriptures and Zen theory. . Later, he visited the Zhongnan Mountains in Shaanxi Province, the Emei Mountains in Sichuan Province, and the three major monasteries in Lhasa, and passed through Tibet to India, Ceylon, Myanmar and other countries. Pay homage to Buddhist relics from various countries and browse Buddhist treasures in various countries. This is a contemporary Xuanzhuang, but his mission is not to obtain scriptures, but to develop a new Zen spirit in ancient Buddhism that can save the world. The Buddhist customs of various countries and the Buddhist principles of each sect are different. Although Xuyun, an ascetic monk, has experienced all over the world and gained a lot of knowledge, he still feels that he has nowhere to go when it comes to the most fundamental issue - how to open the eyes of the "mind". After that, he returned to China from Myanmar and worshiped Jizu Mountain in Yunnan, passed through Guizhou, Hunan, and Hubei, worshiped Jiuhua Mountain in Anhui, and then attended the Seven Zen Dharma Assembly at Gaowen Temple in Yangzhou. In the seventh chapter of Zen, Xuyun's tea cup fell to the ground with a shattering sound due to boiling water splashing on his hand, which immediately enabled him to fully understand the Zen pass. "The crowd looked for him thousands of times, but suddenly looking back, he was in a dimly lit place."
From then on, Xuyun was no longer a migratory bird without a branch to rest on. He entered the Zen gate guarded by Zhaozhou and took it as his mission to revitalize Zen Buddhism. He successively presided over Jizushan Boyu Temple, Kunming Yunqi Temple, Nanhua Temple, the sixth ancestor of Caoxi Zen, and Ruyuan Yunmen Temple. The above-mentioned ancient temples were all revived for a time due to his auspices. In 1954, Xuyun traveled from Yungang Grottoes in Datong, Shanxi to Dalin Temple in Lushan, Jiangxi to recuperate. Several laymen in Yunju Mountain went to Dalin Temple to pay homage to Master Xuyun. They talked about the situation in Yunju Mountain and lamented that the temple was destroyed by the artillery fire of the Japanese invaders during World War II and that the bronze Vairocana Buddha of the Ming Dynasty was buried in the smoke and overgrown grass. After hearing this, Xuyun felt sad and sad. At this time, he was already a 116-year-old old man. Regardless of his frailty and the perils of the world, he still vowed to revive Yunju's ancestral home. He took several disciples to Yunju Mountain and built a hut to live there. Xuyun's influence was great. When they heard that he wanted to revive Yunju's ancestral court, monks from all over the country came to follow him. In less than a year, more than a hundred came. This was truly a miracle in the early days of the liberation of Buddhism. Xuyun organized these monks to clear up wasteland and grow food to support themselves. The family Zen life pioneered by the fifth ancestor of Zen Buddhism and carried forward by Zen Master Baizhang was restored. After solving the problem of food, a plan was made to rebuild the Zhenru Zen Temple and some material preparations were made. Two years later, in 1956, Xuyun supervised the construction of the Main Hall, the Heavenly King Hall and the Bell and Drum Tower. Three years later, the reconstruction of Zhenru Zen Temple was completed. A large-scale Buddhist jungle appears in Yunju Mountain. This year, Xuyun is already 121 years old. His last ambition in life had been realized, but he seemed to have no joy. Instead, he passed away in a cloud-filled hut with a sad mood. When I say this, I am not making any subjective assumptions. His words about the Dharma mentioned above reveal his thoughts. That photo commemorated the 100th anniversary of his conversion to Buddhism. This long century was an era in Chinese history characterized by frequent wars, the emergence of powerful heroes, and constant internal and external troubles. This is what Xuyun said: "There is no reason for the end of the law, and the absurd desire comes to the fore." The photo was taken in 1957, a time when temples were not immune to the anti-rightist struggle. At this time, Xuyun was more than just "not getting any information, just feeling sad"?
Monk Zhaozhou believes that the main point of Zen meditation is to "let go". Xuyun finally let go of everything, including his life and Zen. I think Xuyun's life, especially in his later years, has a strong sense of tragedy. He accidentally broke the tea cup and became enlightened. But the experience the world gave him at that time could not give him a deeper understanding of what "persistence" and what "delusion" meant.
According to common parlance, we call monks and Taoists marginalized figures. Through these marginalized figures, we can better understand the blindness and destructiveness of social forces, and we can also better understand what is the only method pursued by Buddhism.
I speculate that the "Zhaozhou Pass" plaque on the gate of Zhenru Zen Temple must have been written by Monk Xuyun. In his later years, Xuyun particularly felt the importance of "letting go" as Zhao Zhou said.
Let go of "arrogance" and "attachment". Otherwise, you will not be able to enter Zhenru Zen Temple.
three
I thought that entering the mountain gate was equivalent to entering the temple gate. But that's not the case. There is a wide field between the two gates.
As soon as I entered the mountain gate and stood on a clean field road that could be driven on, I was immediately attracted by the scenery in front of me.
A large flat field, the rice has been harvested, and the short rice stubble left in the paddy field is glowing with dots of golden color. A stream meanders through the fields, like a rainbow surrounding Zhenru Zen Temple. This is a long dry autumn, and some streams at the foot of the mountain have dried up. This stream is still flowing with gurgling water, and small fish that have not been caught are playing among the pebbles. The moist soil on the stream bank and in the fields is covered with moss and some ferns. Although the frost has long passed, they are still so green. The maple trees in twos and threes in the field are solitary and tall, and their fiery red leaves exude burning poetry in the sunset. To be precise, this field should be a basin in the mountains. It is surrounded by lush green hills.
Ancient Chinese buildings are all about Feng Shui. Religious buildings are no exception. Du Guangting, a Taoist priest in the Song Dynasty, wrote a special book called "Dongtian Blessed Land Yuedu Famous Mountain Notes", which divided the country's Taoist temples into thirty-six caves and seventy-two blessed places. These heavenly paradises contain the essence of Taoist Feng Shui. They materialize the abstract concepts of yin and yang and the five elements, making their houses, landscapes, wind directions, and sunlight appear orderly. It is believed that this arrangement will produce the kind of auspiciousness. The mysterious power to ward off evil. There is no Buddhist monograph on this aspect, but from the temples I visited, I can still see the ingenuity of the architects in using Feng Shui. For example, Yuquan Temple in Dangyang, Hubei Province, Fayu Temple in Putuo Mountain, Zhejiang Province, Shaolin Temple in Songshan Mountain, Henan Province, Reclining Buddha Temple in Xiangshan Mountain, Beijing, Tiantong Temple in Ningbo, Zhejiang Province, etc., all have developed profound architectural concepts based on the principles of Feng Shui. Standing in the middle of this field, I feel that Zhenru Zen Temple is a real Feng Shui treasure. Its mountain gate is actually a gap between two small mountains. Standing outside the mountain gate, you think you are entering the temple. Who knows that entering the temple is not about entering the temple, but seeing the mountains and rivers. The temple is surrounded by mountains and green mountains, with no flaws at all. There are also hills and mountains behind the temple, rising one after another, rising one after another, with misty clouds, as if they are in a Buddhist realm.
When you close the mountain gate, you can't see anything. But when you enter the mountain gate, a wonderful landscape is hidden. Such Feng Shui is like a living Zen state.
Being in this Zen state, I suddenly felt that the souls of Zen masters of all ages had turned into swaying chrysanthemums, drawing my eyes and enlightening my mind. The Buddha does not appear in the form of a human being in this Yunju Mountain, but in the fiery red leaves, light blue smoke and quiet bamboo forest. These elegant scenery show the Buddha's love and tranquility.
From this, I think of Monk Xuyun's "Song in the Mountains":
Walking in the mountains, stepping through the clouds above the mountains,
When the light comes back, there is no dust on the earth;
Living in the mountains, cutting off the road of life and death,
Opening his eyes, Qian Sheng didn't care.
Sitting in the mountains, only doing this all day long,
The broken futon falls without teaching words.
Lying in the mountains, riding a donkey and riding a horse,
The protagonist has no dreams.
This old monk is walking, standing, sitting and lying in the mountains. He is so peaceful and silent. This enlightened Zen master, whether in the clouds or on a futon, does not think or make any hints. Neither the earth nor the state of mind has an inch of dust. Zhenru Zen Temple and him have become one. Inside the mountain gate, there are mountains and water, and everything is fresh. The problem is that you have to enter this mountain temple, which means you have to cross the checkpoint in Zhaozhou before you can enter the Zhenru Zen Temple, or in other words, enter the heart of Monk Xuyun.
Crossing the stream and approaching the temple gate, there is a tall and lush ancient ginkgo tree on the roadside. There is a well under the tree called Huiquan. I got closer and took a closer look, and saw a wooden sign under the tree with a verse written on it:
The spring of wisdom lies beside the old tree
The moon reflects in the spring and the earth grows in autumn
An ancient mirror contains thousands of shadows
Bathing in the sun
Open your eyes and don’t rely on human power
How can Gaoliu be busy with worldly affairs?
The alms bowl is thrown into the clear sky
Let the smoke and clouds make clothes
At such a time, in such a scenery, reading such a verse, I feel a breath of fresh air coming from my heart. When a mountain spring has clear water, a turbulent person like me in this world cannot help but ask: Is the torrent of your life a spring of wisdom that awakens the world or a turbid wave that pollutes the world? What is thrown into the clear sky, is it your alms bowl or a stinging arrow?
I think many people who come to visit Zhenru Zen Temple will definitely grab a handful of Huiquan and drink it. I did not do this. This is not because I think I am lofty and want to deceive all living beings. But I feel like I don’t know where to come from to enjoy this sweetness that comes out of the world.
Four
While I was still lingering by the Hui Quan, a monk passed by and said to me: "If you visit the temple, go quickly. It will be closed in a while."
I hurriedly walked into Zhenru Zen Temple again.
Surrounded by vast mountains, surrounded by pines and bamboos, Zhenru Temple is the only building in the mountains, which adds to the mystery and solemnity of the temple. Entering the temple gate, the first building is the Tianwang Hall, followed by the Main Hall. I walked around in a hurry and felt deserted. A young monk passed by the cloister, singing sutras. This scene can be said to be in the Tang Dynasty, Song Dynasty, or Qing Dynasty. There is nothing modern in the temple. The furnishings in the temple that have not changed for thousands of years, and even the expressions of the monks, are locked in a certain time. Buddha is outside our earthly time and space, but this is not the case for temples. I have been to many temples and they have long been modernized. There is a sense of loss when visiting it. Those crudely printed tour tickets and the Buddhist music and Sanskrit music played on the radio make you feel that the Buddha has died. I especially hope to see temples that still have ancient traditions, and Zhenru Zen Temple fulfills my wish. But when I was worshiping the Buddha in the Main Hall, a small incident gave me another sense of loss.
At that time, there was only one monk on duty in the quiet main hall. After I offered incense, I worshiped the Buddha on a futon in front of the incense table. The monk came over and accused me: "This is for the great monk's exclusive use. How can you use it?"
There were three futons in front of the incense table, and I chose the big one in the middle. I didn't know that this was reserved for the great monk. The monk's accusation immediately made me lose the intimacy I had just developed. Everyone is equal before the Buddha. Is there such a strict hierarchy in the temple? I said "I'm sorry" to the monk, walked out of the main hall, and reflected on my unhappiness. Because as soon as this thought arises, it slips into "delusion" and "persistence." Although people have entered the temple, they are still outside the "Zhaozhou Pass".
However, this reminds me of what monk Xuyun said: "Modern people's faculties are very blunt." Judging from the strict implementation of temple rules, the monk did nothing wrong. His mistake was that although he understood the temple rules, he did not understand the Buddha. Monk Xuyun has left. Could it be that the Buddha has also left here?
I believe that there must be masters of spiritual practice hidden in this quiet temple, but my relationship with Buddhism is still shallow and I will not be able to do so for a while. What I can see can only make me lament the decline of Buddhism.
Walking around the corridors and browsing the couplets on the pillars brought back the intimacy I had just lost. These couplets are deeply in touch with Buddhism and are of great literary talent. I copied a few of them at random:
Xiguitang:
The sun has gone to the west, knowing that the time is limited
When you return to the Pure Land, believe in the bliss and endless life span
Pot-bellied Arhat:
Carrying empty bags every day, little rice and no money, only a big belly and wide intestines.
I don’t know what the Tanyue people used to offer when they had faith.
Every year I sit at Lengshan Gate to welcome Zhang and Li, and I always see him happy.
May I ask what is the reason for this Tutu's pride?
Temple of the Heavenly King:
Irrelevant outside the world, read the mulberry fields and fall into the sea several times
With nothing in mind, the lake is full of bright moon and the clouds are all over the mountains
Before crossing the gate, stop talking and take a rest
We've arrived at the treasure house. Take the boat to land.
These couplets are enough to enhance the weight of Zhenru Zen Temple. I think this should also be the work of Monk Xuyun. Xuyun's wish is great, but there are few successors. Good and evil are all given by humans. Away from the crowd, we can neither find good nor evil. Xuyun has sown good roots in the world, but his most fundamental pursuit is neither good nor evil. Buddha exists outside of normal human value judgments. As the most outstanding monk of this century, it is impossible to find him in the cycle of good and evil. Maybe he is a phantom himself.
After walking out of the gate, following the guidance of the gatekeeper, I visited the Xugong Pagoda again. I don't believe that Xuyun sleeps here forever. At this time, he may be somewhere in the deep mountains, together with the Zhaozhou monk, worryingly studying the problem of modern human beings.
The night had completely fallen, and the car lights were the only light on the way down the mountain. The gradually increasing sense of loss prompted me to recite a crooked poem:
I have long admired the clouds and met each other in the twilight.
The Zen branches scare the birds, and the stone stream listens to the quiet bell.
The old trees are green and the mountains are red.
Zhaozhou Pass has been closed, and I look to Duke Xu lonely.
