Day 5 Persevere in Practice | The Sword of Wisdom

For the great ones, one breakthrough accomplishes all;
For the middling and inferior, the more they hear, the less they believe.
You only have to discard the dirty garments within;
No need to flaunt your diligence to others.

People who encounter Buddhadharma can be assigned to one of three categories, depending on their karmic roots. Those with superior karmic roots are great practitioners; those with intermediate karmic roots are average practitioners; and those with inferior karmic roots are poor practitioners.

To have superior karmic roots means that a person has already reached a high level of practice in previous lifetimes. Usually, when such a person encounters Buddhadharma, he has absolutely no doubts about the teaching. He accepts it completely, immediately and wholeheartedly. Sometimes, however, it does not work out that way. In the history of Buddhism, quite a few Ch’an masters actually opposed Buddhadharma when they first encountered it.

During the Sung dynasty, a prime minister named Chang Shang-ying hated Buddhism with a passion, and he decided to write an essay refuting the teachings of the Buddha. While he was pondering which way to attack his target, his wife asked him what he was writing about. He answered that he hated Buddhism, and wished to write an essay proving that Buddha-nature did not exist.

His wife answered, “If there’s no such thing as Buddha-nature, then what is there to criticize? Why attack something that isn’t real? If you do, it will only serve to make it real. If you want to oppose something, you must have something to oppose. If nothing is there, it’s like clapping one hand. Your hand strikes empty space and makes no noise.” When Chang Shang-ying heard his wife’s comments, he felt foolish. He collected as much Buddhist material as possible and read about Ch’an. The more he read, the more interested he became; finally, he became enlightened.

Ou-l Chih-hsu, a monk who studied several Buddhist disciplines, is a similar example. When he was young, he bitterly opposed Buddhadharma, and wrote a number of articles attempting to cast Buddhism in a disparaging light. He opposed Buddhism for so long, and with such fervor, that in the end he became a great Buddhist master.

Therefore, a person with superior karmic roots will not necessarily accept Buddhadharma wholeheartedly when he first encounters it. One may utterly oppose Buddhism in the beginning, and then convert to its teachings after a long period of time; but when a person of superior karmic roots accepts Buddhism, he understands and accepts the Dharma completely, without doubts.

People of intermediate and inferior capacities, however, are different from great practitioners. They want to learn, and they study as much Buddhadharma as they can. Yet they question, “Is this the path for me? Do I really want to do this? What’s the purpose of all this?”

There is a story of a child in a candy store, whose eyes are bigger than his stomach. He sees jar after jar of candy, and he wants it all. He bites into one piece, tastes it, and spits it out unfinished. He tries another, and another, and works his way through the entire store. Although his mouth is filled with the flavors of many candies, he has not eaten a thing. Then he gets sick and vomits, and ends up with a sour memory of his experience. A person of intermediate or inferior capacity can be like this child.

The Dharma gates of Buddhism ─ the methods of practice ─ are infinite. The third Bodhisattva vow says, “I vow to master limitless approaches to Dharma.” This does not mean you should act like a child in a candy shop and try every gate. Before enlightenment, select one path (method), stick to it, learn it, and practice hard. Although you make a vow to master every method, it does not mean that you should dabble with one for a while, drop it, and go to another. You should be practicing, not window shopping.

From time to time, I have to discourage people from attending a Ch’an retreat. These people tell me that they have tried all kinds of meditation methods ─ reciting mantras, chanting, visualization, reciting Buddha’s name, and more. I say to them, “If you want to participate in a Ch’an retreat, then give up whatever you have learned in the past and use Ch’an methods.” Why do I say this? Unless you have faith in one
method and follow it exclusively, you will not progress in your practice. The important and essential thing is that you have confidence in your method, and that you fully enter one gate. Do not waste your time trying to enter many gates. In reality, there are no gates, so no matter which gate you choose, you should stick to it. If you work diligently and relentlessly, you will progress, and eventually you will gain entrance.

Once you pass, the “gate” disappears.

It is important to have faith in the method. One reason people cannot build up faith is that they do not use a method long enough for it to mature. It is like cooking. You cannot blame the stove or the ingredients if the rice is not cooked.

There is a saying in the West: “All roads lead to Rome.” If you walk down one road for a few miles and then say, “I don’t think this road goes to Rome, ” you will have to retrace your steps and try another road. If you do the same thing with every road, you will never reach your destination. Every road may lead to Rome, but if you have never follow any road to its end, you will never find out for yourself.

The important thing is to persevere. The gate exists only while you are practicing. Once you gain entrance, the gate is no longer important. It is just a stage in your practice, not a final achievement. That is why you should not worry about your progress or brag about your achievements. Results are not that important. It is the process, or practice itself, that is important.

In the course of practice, however, it is difficult to know if you are making progress, or to see clearly the stages you are passing through. You may be making progress even though you think you are going nowhere. You may even feel you are sliding backwards, and want to give up. Actually, going forward and slipping backward are both indication of progress. When you climb up a mountain, you must walk the path step by step. The next step may not be higher than the last step ─ it may even be lower than the last step ─ but after a while, you will realize you are further along than when you started. If you stop to rest, you may not be ascending, but you are still higher than you were, and when you continue to climb, you will be refreshed. Resting is not bad; it is not faulty practice.

If you swim against the current, you may swim with all your might and not make much headway. The moment you pause to rest, the current will sweep you downstream. But you are not swimming downstream. It is the current that is pulling you back. Say you swim forward ten meters before the current pulls you back twenty. Then you catch yourself and swim another twenty, but the current pulls you back twenty. You may be ten meters behind your starting point, but you have swum thirty meters. As long as you are concerned with the process and not the goal, then you have not wasted any time or effort.

True practitioners do not boast about their attainment, their progress, or even their method. Do not make a big deal over your practice or accomplishments. Practice is your personal business. All you want to do is continue to peel off layer after layer of vexation, which are the “dirty garments” Yung-chia mentions in the song.

There is another story about Master Lai-kuo, the young abbot who did not want to teach anymore. He felt he needed more practice, so he fled far into the mountains. Some time later, Lai-kuo’s master was dying. The dying monk needed a worthy disciple to take over his temple, so he sent a monk to find Lai-kuo and bring him back.

One day, while Lai-kuo was gathering herbs for his meal, a huge boulder suddenly crashed next to him. Since it missed him, Lai-kuo ignored the incident and returned to his hut. The next day, the same thing happened. Again he ignored it, but when he got back to his hut, he found the monk from his master’s temple waiting for him. The monk said, “You are enlightened. You must return to the temple to teach. You cannot shirk your vows.”

Lai-kuo said, “I suppose you’re right. If I’m enlightened, I ought to teach. And it seems the spirit of the mountain agrees with you, because he’s throwing rocks at me.” He left his solitary hut and returned to the temple with the monk.

He hid in the mountains because his practice was his personal business. Practice is not something to display to others, or to use to gain recognition. My advice to you is to keep practicing and not bother with anything else.

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