From Wisdom-Liberation to Complete Liberation

Entering the monastery and learning from the monks has been the single most correct decision I have made in all these years. The sage said: "When you meet someone worthy, think of equaling him; when you meet someone unworthy, turn inward and examine yourself." Entering the monastery and seeing monks practicing in accord with the Dharma, all my arrogance instantly died away; a sense of shame made me feel utterly exposed before my past words and deeds. I experienced the deep meaning of the Sutra of Forty-Two Sections: "A person has many faults but does not repent; when he arrests his mind, guilt comes upon him like water flowing to the sea, gradually becoming deep and wide."

The monks are pure and dignified, compassionate and kind, courteous and restrained, measured in every step. Their unworldly composure and the gentle equality with which they regard all beings inspire reverence; in an instant I set aside all my arrogance and arrogance, and pressed my palms together to bow. I no longer dare discuss the Dharma as recklessly as before; the enormous gap between me and those of attainment made me realize my own practice is too shallow. Looking back at the Buddhist articles I once wrote now makes me feel as though needles were pricking my back. "Ignorant yet fond of playing the teacher"—that describes someone like me.

Wisdom-liberation (vidya-vimukta) and complete liberation (ubhato-bhaga-vimukta) are two entirely different things. Wisdom-liberation means being liberated cognitively, whereas complete liberation requires a person not only to awaken but to actually put it into practice—and that is harder than ascending to heaven. I used to read Mr. Ji Xianlin's studies of Buddhism and was greatly influenced by his critical attitude toward it; now I no longer dare criticize Buddhism so arrogantly. Recognizing and doing are two entirely different realms. Truly devout Buddhists place themselves in the lowest position and put the Buddha's teachings into concrete action one by one; this is worlds apart from my past verbal talk of Buddhist doctrine.

Only after practicing for oneself does one qualify to discuss the right and wrong, the is and is-not, of Buddhism. After practicing, I found my past understanding of the scriptures was almost entirely wrong—in Buddhist terms, I had remained at the level of "worldly dharma" and "conditioned dharma," unable to fathom the meaning of "transcendent dharma." The transcendent dharma can be grasped only by truly putting the scriptures' standards of conduct into practice; and this is indeed, as the Chan school says, beyond words. Words, for instance, can only teach us to recognize the two characters for "humility," but cannot make us truly humble. Only by drawing near to truly humble people and learning humility from their every gesture can we become humble.

So far I have met only Han Chinese Buddhists; contact with them has changed me greatly. I have learned from them Buddhist etiquette, humility, tolerance, gentleness, equal treatment of all beings, and compassion in the true sense; I have cultivated a pure mind. I have turned my dissatisfaction with the world into dissatisfaction with myself; I am beginning to rebuild my life, gradually feeling a thorough transformation.

To call practice a person's rebirth is no exaggeration. Practice means, first, correcting one's incorrect conduct, and second, accumulating good deeds; in Buddhist terms, "avoid all evils and practice all good." Only by drawing near to good, wise teachers can these avoid becoming empty talk. Those righteous monks who practice in accord with the Dharma leave their families, cut off desire, and enter the monastery as models for beings—truly a great dedication. I once made some rash remarks about them; now I withdraw them all, sincerely repent, press my palms together respectfully to them, and am grateful that, by the flickering lamp before the ancient Buddha, amid the morning bell and evening drum, they devoutly study the Dharma and refine themselves, giving a dull and deluded person like me an example to follow.

Beyond the Buddha's shadow, Han Chinese Buddhists also carry the distinctive air of "a courteous gentleman, warm as jade," nurtured by traditional Chinese Confucian and Daoist culture. Seeing once is worth a thousand hearings. At Beijing's Longquan Temple, in the monks, dull-witted I saw the living reality of what the sages called "the sage," and was instantly filled with awe. At the same time, the realization that "one's own faults are like a mountain" arose in an instant. Perhaps from a modern scientific perspective their understanding of the world still has points to debate, but their spiritual wealth is beyond doubt.

Such is the power of faith. As the great economist Alfred Marshall said, no influence on the formation of a person's character is better than religious faith.