Читать книгу Biblical Buddhism: Tales and Sermons of Saint Iodasaph - Robert M. Price - Страница 5

A day came when Saint Iodasaph made ready to set out on a journey, from which he knew not whether he should be long or short in returning. So he summoned three of the brethren of the monastery to come before him. All were officious, thinking that the Saint had chosen them for some special task of stewardship in his absence.

He bade them be seated, and proceeded to teach them. "It would ill-befit me, O monks, to leave you in my absence with nothing to occupy you." He noted slyly how each countenance of those before him subtly began to assume a haughty cast. "So while others are busy with the provision of the sangha, I have chosen for you a koan; I wish you to labor over it till I return."

At this, each face showed puzzlement, not knowing whether to deem this choice of duties a sign of greater or lesser distinction. But all made ready to give full attention to the words which Saint Iodasaph now began to utter.

"Hear then the koan of the Sheep and the Goats. When Maitreya shall come and shall sit in state on his throne of light, he will divide the peoples before him as the shepherd divides his sheep from his goats. The sheep he will cause to be placed on his right, the goats likewise to his left. Then he will say to those at his left, 'Out of my sight, you reprobates! For in the day that I appeared in your villages, you set the dogs upon me with much mocking laughter and gave me nothing for my begging bowl. No time had you to give ear to the words of Dharma.' Great will be their anguish when they hear these words! When they overcome a measure of their dismay they will say, 'Great Lord, when did we ever see thee, much less treat thee, in so disgraceful a fashion?'

Then will Maitreya say to them, 'As you treated any humble monk in your streets, so you treated me, for there is no difference.'

"Then he will turn to those on his right, and his scowl will give place to a smile brighter than the sun, and he will say to them, 'Nirvana awaiteth you, O nobly born! For you were quick both to provide my needs and to give heed to the words of Dharma! There will be no more births for you!' Though overcome with joy, these will find words to say, 'Surely we never did the deeds you ascribe to us! When did we do them?' Then the Lord Maitreya will reply, 'Do you truly not remember? When you gave shelter to my mendicants, you gave shelter even to me, for there is no difference.'

"Then will the righteous depart into the Clear Light, but the wicked will be distributed among the Nine Hells of Yama. Now, monks, I go. Think on these things till I return to you, for there will be an accounting."

And so the Saint departed, and in his travels he visited many lands both of the East and of the West, whence it is said Maitreya will one day come. Not a day went by during all that time that the three monks did not spend many hours pondering the koan. At length their master returned, after how long a time I cannot say, for I have the story from one of the monks, for whom the time of Iodasaph's journey seemed but a matter of short days, so absorbed was he in contemplation. But the day came when, other matters of the monastery being set in order, the Saint again summoned his three.

"I have by no means forgotten the task I assigned you, and now I will hear your answers. What means the koan?"

The youngest of the monks was the first to speak. "Master, the koan tells us that only those who provide for the poor brethren will be saved, and that we, too, ought to provide for those poor within the brotherhood, since in that manner we serve the unknown Maitreya. Only so may we expect salvation." He fell silent, confident of praise in that he had so succinctly distilled so great a truth.

But the Saint replied, "Are you so sure you have found the way of salvation, my son? I think instead it is the road to Hell you have marked out in these few words."

Astonished beyond measure, the novice stammered, "But, Lord, it cannot be..."

Iodasaph leaned forward, a hint of patient amusement lighting his face. "You speak of the 'unknown Maitreya,' yet your very words betray that he is hardly unknown to you."

"Even so, Lord, that is why I know to serve the poor among the brethren, in that it is even the Lord Maitreya that I serve!"

"Then you admit your heart is even one with the wicked in the koan?"

"Lord, I do not!," cried the novice, his piety affronted. "I mean only to obey the clear teaching of the koan and to serve the poor!"

"Nay, rather, do you not mean you would by no means be so zealous to serve the poor if you knew them not for Maitreya, since it is only that revelation that kindles your zeal? The goats, too, would have made haste to serve the poor had they recognized the Great Lord in them. There is no difference."

The first monk, abashed, fell silent once more. The second ventured to speak.

"Master," he said slowly, "the koan is like unto a trap; while it holds out the promise of salvation, it leads the unwary unto damnation by seeming to urge the very attitude it condemns. One must look beneath the surface. Then it becomes plain that Maitreya's lesson is to act eschewing the fruits of action, accruing neither good karma nor ill. One must renounce the goal of salvation for once and all, pressing on instead to become a bodhisattva. Then one's good deeds and alms for the poor may contribute to the salvation of all beings, so that there is no difference between sheep and goats. For truly as long as only some reach Nirvana, others must be damned. There can be no true Nirvana till all attain it, and the cleft between Nirvana and Samsara itself be overcome."

The second monk had not once raised his eyes to meet the gaze of his Master, so he did not now lower his brow as he fell silent.

The Saint held his peace for some moments and then said, "Well done, O nobly born! You have been faithful over a little truth; I will entrust to you much truth in the days to come."

At this my heart burned with envy (for the first monk was indeed I), but then I wondered what the third of our number might say, since surely the truth was now divulged. At least he might hope to match it, though no longer the first to utter it.

Iodasaph, blessed be he, next turned to him, expectantly. After a few moments the Saint said to him, "And have you nothing to say concerning the koan, my brother? What make you of it?"

The third monk spoke not, but began to bleat like a goat, or perhaps it was a sheep, for I know not the difference. At this, the Saint sat back in his seat and smiled a great smile.