Commentary on the Diamond Sutra: Serene Dignity and Stillness, Twenty-Nine

So-called dignified deportment refers to sentient beings' bodily, verbal, and mental actions in daily life—coming and going, greeting and seeing off, and so forth. A person of cultivation must make their bodily, verbal, and mental actions dignified, orderly, and in accord with proper norms. Monastics have the deportment of monastics; laypeople have the deportment of laypeople. With different identities come different forms of deportment, and each sentient being's deportment must accord with their own station. This chapter reveals the Buddha's deportment. The Buddha's deportment both resembles and differs from that of sentient beings—for after all, the Buddha has cultivated for three great immeasurable kalpas, and His bodily, verbal, and mental actions have been purified to the utmost, perfect and flawless, without the slightest slip or blemish, worthy of being the model for humans and gods.

The title of this chapter is "The Deportment of Tranquil Purity." In merely four or five characters, it fully reveals the theme and central point of the Diamond Sutra—truly the finishing touch that brings the painted dragon to life. It echoes from afar the hidden meaning of the World-Honored One's deportment at the beginning of the Diamond Sutra—donning robes, eating, begging for food, washing His feet. There is principle and there is phenomenon; principle and phenomenon are both complete, pointing out to sentient beings the vajra-indestructible mind within their own bodies. Thereby the essence of the Buddha-dharma is fully displayed, delivering sentient beings into the ultimate truth of the Mahāyāna true reality and prajñā, and opening up sentient beings' boundless treasury of wisdom.

Then what is the hidden meaning of "the deportment of tranquil purity"? The Buddha's eighty thousand forms of deportment, three thousand subtle practices—donning robes and begging for food, eating and washing feet, expounding the sutras and teaching the Dharma, delivering sentient beings—these bodily, verbal, and mental actions are clearly all movement, all subsumed under the Buddha's aggregate of volitional formations, inherently ceaselessly turbulent, subject to arising, ceasing, change, and variation. Why, then, is it still called "tranquil purity"? Here I leave a suspense for everyone, so that you may resolve to explore and discover the heavenly secret within. I cannot spell it out here.

Let this suspense serve as the questioning doubt of Chan investigation, hanging deep in the mind—raised in the morning, raised in the evening, raised while eating, raised while washing feet, raised whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down. Raise it and raise it, until one day, with a sudden plop, the mind suddenly lights up in great clarity, a skylight opens, the questioning doubt is shattered, and one returns home to sit in stability. From then on, each day one leisurely enjoys one's own treasure—clothes come, one reaches out; food comes, one opens one's mouth—no longer campaigning outward, no longer plundering what is not one's own. An age of peace and prosperity thus descends, and at last one ascends the precious wheel throne, honored alone under heaven. Excellent! Excellent! What joy there is in this—why not do it!

Original text: 须菩提。若有人言。如来若来若去。若坐若卧。是人不解我所说义。何以故。如来者。无所从来。亦无所去。故名如来。

Explanation: Subhūti, if someone says that the Tathāgata either comes or goes, either sits or lies down—seeing the Tathāgata's coming and going in these outward appearances—this person has not truly understood the great meaning of the Dharma I have been teaching all this time, and thus is deluded by the Tathāgata's outward appearances and does not see the true Tathāgata. Why is this said? Because the true Tathāgata has nowhere from which He comes and nowhere to which He goes: there is no place from which He comes—no place of coming—and no place to which He goes—no place of going. The one who neither comes nor goes, neither arises nor ceases, is called the true Tathāgata.

How compassionate the World-Honored One is! For the sake of sentient beings, He donned the garment of filth and defilement, humbling Himself to come to this turbid and evil world, to reveal to sentient beings the Buddha's knowledge and vision, expounding the sutras and teaching the Dharma without knowing fatigue. Here the World-Honored One repeatedly applies the finishing touch, sparing no spittle, His eyebrows dragging on the ground, the corner of His kasaya already soaked in mud and water—all just to drag sentient beings out of the mire of wrong views and awaken them to the Buddha's knowledge and vision, so that they may thereafter see and act together with the Buddha, never again traveling the byways of the wilderness and the perilous places of desolate mountains and wilds.

Sentient beings' habit of grasping at marks has long since penetrated to the marrow; the poisonous thorn of wrong views is truly hard to pull out. Helplessly, the World-Honored One must labor on, breaking marks and breaking marks again, using all manner of parables and words to reveal to sentient beings the mind of true reality that has not the slightest mark. Yet there are still extremely many people who do not see the true markless Tathāgata, but only see the marked Tathāgata coming and going, walking and stopping. But will the Tathāgata's marks of coming, going, sitting, and lying down not vanish and disappear? After they vanish, where would one see the Tathāgata? From where do these marks of coming, going, sitting, and lying down come, and where do they go in ceasing? And why is there coming and going, sitting and lying down? Attentive people must draw a great big question mark here, doubt deeply, and not let it pass.

The Tathāgata's mark of coming appears in dependence on the five-aggregate material body and manifests in dependence on the five aggregates and the seven consciousnesses; it is fundamentally the aggregate of volitional formations among the five aggregates. Without the five aggregates and the seven consciousnesses, there would be no mark of coming for sentient beings to behold. And where was this mark of coming before it came? On account of what did it come? Because this mark of coming is a conditioned dharma subject to arising and ceasing, and all dharmas subject to arising and ceasing are born of causes and conditions: the mark of coming has the gathering of various conditions, arising from a cause. With cause and conditions present, the mark of coming appears. When sentient beings behold it, they see only the mark of coming, not knowing from where the mark of coming comes, not knowing the cause of the mark of coming—this is the deluded grasping at marks, not recognizing the true principle. Because sentient beings grasp at marks and are deluded as to principle, they unite with dust and turn away from awakening; hence they give rise to wearisome affliction, worldly marks continue unbroken, and birth and death are unceasing. To escape the marks of birth and death, what should one do? One must of course seek the cause that gives rise to the marks, recognize the principle of true suchness, remove delusion and karma, and return to the original state.

The Tathāgata's mark of going appears in dependence on the five aggregates and manifests in dependence on the seven consciousnesses; it is fundamentally the aggregate of volitional formations among the five aggregates. On account of what cause do the five aggregates and seven consciousnesses manifest? Before going, there was coming and abiding; before coming and abiding there was a cause, and when going, it does not depart from the cause—otherwise it could not go. And after going? The mark is swept away without trace, yet the cause of going does not cease; therefore it can go again and again, and come again and again—arising, abiding, changing, ceasing—thus cycling without end. This is vibrant vitality, conditions for arising everywhere, just like a splendid spring. As for the Tathāgata's marks of sitting and lying down, they too are fundamentally the aggregate of volitional formations among the five aggregates, appearing in dependence on the material body and the seven consciousnesses, and the material body and the seven consciousnesses also have their causes for appearing. By these causes, marks arise and marks cease. Sentient beings see only the marks and their arising and ceasing, and never see the originating cause of the marks' arising and ceasing—deluded by appearances, they do not recognize the true principle. Hence they are born again and again without end, die again and again without cease, drifting and wandering, lost on the road and not returning.

Sentient beings' accumulated delusions are hard to reverse. Helplessly, the World-Honored One, that venerable One, has come to this Sahā world more than eight thousand times, one hand pointing to heaven and one hand pointing to earth, revealing to sentient beings: "Above heaven and below heaven, I alone am honored!" Greatly displaying the Tathāgata's wisdom and virtuous marks, He unties sentient beings' bonds and fetters, washing away the grime of wearisome affliction. Were He not a father of great compassion, who could do this! If we are the filial children of the Tathāgata, then at the moment the World-Honored One points to heaven and earth, we should bare the right shoulder, place the right knee on the ground, press the palms together, and call out: "My Buddha, supreme Tathāgata, I now behold the true Tathāgata." From then on we can gradually continue the Buddha's work, proclaiming the teaching on His behalf, receiving and guiding sentient beings, removing delusion and revealing wisdom, and entering the Buddha's knowledge and vision. If there can be many such filial children, then the Buddha's work will have successors, the Buddha-dharma will shine forth greatly, the ship of compassion will universally ferry all, the whole world will celebrate together, and the ten directions will together enter the ocean of sarvākārajñatā.

Then how are sentient beings to recognize the true principle? The World-Honored One continued to reveal: "The Tathāgata has nowhere from which He comes and nowhere to which He goes; therefore He is called the Tathāgata." Nowhere from which He comes means there is no place from which the Tathāgata can come—thus there is no place of coming. Although there is no place of coming, the Tathāgata nevertheless appears at all times and in all places; though without a body, He is not hidden. Thus the Tathāgata with no place of coming is unborn—originally present, not dependent on other conditions, free and self-mastered. This Tathāgata is the true Tathāgata. Nowhere to which He goes—"place" means location; having no place to go means non-ceasing. Non-ceasing means existing at all times and in all places, manifesting at all times and in all places, functioning at all times and in all places. This Tathāgata is the true Tathāgata. The true Tathāgata, without marks of coming and going, yet comes and goes; though coming and going, He is limpidly unmoving, majestic and dignified, coming in suchness, going in suchness—neither coming nor going, neither arising nor ceasing.

So that sentient beings might recognize the true Tathāgata, the World-Honored One together with Mañjuśrī staged a play, demonstrating to the bhikṣus the true meaning of the Tathāgata. Once, after the bhikṣus were all seated in the lecture hall, the World-Honored One pushed open the door of the hall, and the thirty-two marks of the five aggregates appeared starkly before the assembly. The World-Honored One then, with the gait of a goose king, slowly walked to the Dharma seat and gradually sat down cross-legged. After the World-Honored One was seated, Mañjuśrī Bodhisattva, holding a ruler, struck the lectern and announced: "The World-Honored One has finished expounding the sutra!" The bhikṣus, just preparing to listen to the World-Honored One's proclamation of the Dharma, suddenly heard Mañjuśrī Bodhisattva make this announcement, and each one stood dumbfounded, not knowing what this meant. And the World-Honored One, paying no heed to the bhikṣus' bewilderment, slowly rose from the Dharma seat, walked unhurriedly straight to the door, pushed it open, and walked out—and the thirty-two marks of the five aggregates thereupon vanished from sight.

Friends, you have now beheld the Tathāgata marks of the Nirmāṇakāya Buddha—thirty-two marks and eighty subsidiary characteristics, majestic and dignified, resplendent and glorious—how utterly adorned! But these marks, in the Sahā world, after all remained only eighty years before disappearing; this certainly cannot be the true Tathāgata. Then where is the true Tathāgata? Which one is it? In fact, the Dharmakāya Tathāgata has never departed from the Nirmāṇakāya Tathāgata. From the instant the World-Honored One pushed open the door and entered, throughout the whole process until He pushed open the door and exited, the Dharmakāya Tathāgata was manifesting all along with His faceless countenance. Those with sharp eyes see it directly on the spot; with the wisdom eye they recognize that He behind the five aggregates. To recognize this—how exhilarating! How light and easy! Everyone, cast aside the World-Honored One's false appearance of the five aggregates, and try to see that which cannot be cast aside, cannot be removed, that which has never arisen or ceased, neither coming nor going—that Dharmakāya true Tathāgata. A good horse moves at the sight of the whip's shadow; a wise person, seeing the shadow of the five aggregates, can recognize the true person. Where is the true person? Hey! Right here.