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Between 1982 and 1985 I held a series of four intensive Chan meditation retreats during which I commented on Yongjia Xuanjue’s Song of Enlightenment. The commentaries were meant to help participants understand Buddhist concepts and to enhance their practice.
Yongjia Xuanjue (665-713) lived during the Tang dynasty (618-907), his given name coming from the town of his birth— Yongjia, located in present-day Chekiang province. His Dharma name was Mingdao, meaning ‘bright path.’ He left home at an early age to become a monk but spent most of his life near Yongjia. He studied with several masters of the Tientai School. He was also a good friend of Hsuan-lang, who later became the fifth patriarch of the Tientai School. Eventually, he settled at Lung-hsing Temple in Wen-chou, Chekiang, where he built a small cottage for his practice.
By the time he reached forty Yongjia was quite well known and many practitioners sought his teachings. The monk Hsuan-ts’e, a disciple of the sixth Chan patriarch Huineng, visited Lung-hsing and was amazed that Yongjia’s insight was on par with that of enlightened masters, even though Yongjia was not a recognized master.
When Hsuan-ts’e asked Yongjia where and how he gained such deep insight, Yongjia replied, “When I studied sutras and sastras, I learned many things. Later when I penetrated the essence of buddha-mind through the Vimalakirti Sutra, there was no one who could guide me and certify my understanding.” The astonished Hsuan-ts’e pointed out to Yongjia that because his enlightenment arose without a specific guidance from a master, he could only be considered a pratyekabuddha. He told Yongjia that such experiences had not been recognized since the time of Wei-in Wang (Sanskrit: Bhisma-garjitasvara-raja) a primordial buddha who was also a pratyekahuddha.
Wei-in Wang Buddha, who is mentioned in the Lotus Sutra, lived in the remote past (innumerable kalpas ago) and stayed in the world for an unimaginably long time. Wei-in Wang symbolizes the earliest Buddha, prior to whom there were no thoughts, conception, or language. As he was the earliest Buddha, there were obviously no masters who could affirm his understanding. It was only after the evolution of language and thought after Wei-in Wang that it was possible for masters to test and certify the experiences of their disciples.
Hsuan-ts’e stressed to Yongjia that because naturally attained enlightenment was limited, he needed to seek the guidance of a master to deepen his realization. Yongjia asked if Hsuan-ts’e could affirm his understanding, but deferring to his own master Huineng, the monk took Yongjia to Ts’ao-ch’i to see the patriarch. When they arrived, Yongjia did not prostrate to the patriarch as ritual demanded. Instead he circled Huineng three times holding his scepter in one hand and a vase in the other.
Huineng said, “A monk should display a solemn appearance. Where do you come from, and why are you so arrogant?”
Yongjia replied, “Death will come soon. Therefore, it is most important that I resolve the problem of birth and death. That is my only concern.”
Huineng countered, “Why don’t you try to experience no birth and no death? Then you will understand that there is no such thing as soon or late.”
Yongjia answered, “If one knows the principle of the Dharma Body, and knows that the Dharma Body has no birth or death, then one understands that there is no such thing as soon or late.”
Huineng said, “That, indeed, is right.”
This dialogue amazed the assembly, which was even more amazed at what followed. Yongjia prostrated to Huineng, and said, “It is time that I leave.”
Huineng asked, “Isn’t it too soon to be leaving?”
“Since originally there is no such thing as movement,” Yongjia answered, “there is no point speaking of too soon or not too soon.”
“Who is it who knows that there is no motion?” Huineng asked.
Yongjia said, “It is you who makes the distinction.”
Huineng praised him: “You really do understand the meaning of no birth.”
Yongjia countered, “How can no birth have any meaning?”
Huine7ñg probed even deeper: “If there is no meaning, then who makes the distinction?”
Yongjia replied, “Even making the distinction is not the meaning.”
Huineng praised Yongjia again: “Splendid! You have done well. Please stay for the night.”
Yongjia did stay the night, and returned to Lung-hsing temple the following day. Many practitioners studied with Yongjia in his remaining years, and his fame grew. He was so highly respected that upon his death at the age 48, the Emperor of China bestowed upon him the posthumous title, Wix-hsiang, which means ‘without phenomena.’
Yongjia’s views of the Dharma and practice are made clear, not only in the Song of Enlightenment, but also in the Chan-tsung Yongjia Chi, which can be found in the Taisho Tripitika. In the ten articles that make up the latter work, Yongjia lays out the essentials of his teachings. He Song dynasty, and it was also during the Song dynasty that Chan spread to Japan.
The Song of Enlightenment is priceless because it speaks of daily life activities, proper methods of practice, and proper attitudes whjle practicing, before and after enlightenment. In fact, the Song dynasty master Dahui Zonggao reported that the Song of Enlightenment was so esteemed by Buddhist practitioners that it was translated into Sanskrit. Whether true or not the story says something for the reputation of the Song.
My guess is that the Song of Enlightenment was in fact written by Yongjia during the Tang dynasty, but was not recognized for its virtues, and in subsequent generations, Chan masters copied it, and in so doing, added comments and edited it, so that it veered from the original work. Nonetheless, the ideas presented in the Song of Enlightenment are in accordance with the teachings of the Sixth Patriarch.
One theme stands out —reality is defined by two terms: real-nature, or dharma-nature; and self-nature, or buddha-nature. Real-nature is the nature of emptiness. It is the original nature of all dharmas. Hence it is also called dharma-nature. All dharmas, both external and internal, arise because of causes and conditions. In and of themselves, dharmas have no intrinsic reality. They have no self-nature. Self-nature is that which is innate in every sentient being. It is by reason of having self-nature that sentient beings can reach buddhahood. For this reason, it is also called buddha-nature.
Yongjia develops his discourse in a loose style, skipping from topic to topic: he will speak of the proper behavior for a practitioner one moment, discuss dharma-nature and tathagatagarbha the next moment, and then describe the Dao, emphasizing that it does not allude to an actual way or direction, but rather to methods of practice.
In the Platform Sutra, Sixth Patriarch Huineng says that if his disciples truly understood the thirty-six polarities they can spread the Dharma without hindrance. In the Song of Enlightenment, we find many polarities: sin and blessing, poverty and wealth, direct experience and Buddhist doctrine, birth and death, form and formlessness, true and false, emptiness and existence, rejecting and grasping, silence and speech, cause and effect, right and wrong, trunk and branches, the finger and the moon. The song ends with “no human beings” and “no buddhas.”
In the course of the text, Yongjia stresses the importance of maintaining an attitude of neither grasping nor rejecting. He also stresses that, although it is important that one know and understand the teachings of the sutras, one should not rely solely on the written word. A practitioner must devote himself to practice.
The Song of Enlightenment tells us how to practice, how to live, and how to view the world. It tells us how we can help ourselves on the buddha path, and how we can help others after we enter the door of Chan. For all of these reasons, the Song of Enlightenment is as important a Chan classic as Faith in Mind, Song of the Precious Mirror Samadhi, and the Platform Sutra. |
