Zhao Lun Brief Commentary (肇論略注)

Letter in Reply to Liu Yimin(The letter consists of two parts: a short note at the beginning, followed by a longer section.)

We have not met since long ago, and I have only been thinking of you with longing(This means that since I have never met the survivors from the past, I can only think of you with longing.). Venerable Huiming has arrived, bringing your letter from last December along with your questions(Liu Gong’s previous letter was entrusted to Huiming to deliver.). I have read and reread it(This means I have carefully considered your questions.), and it brought me joy, as if we were briefly face to face. The cool wind signals the change of season—how have you been lately(This is a polite inquiry about the weather and well-being.)? This humble monk is weary and unwell, often not in good health. The messenger(The messenger is the envoy.) is returning south, so I will not elaborate further(This concludes the introductory remarks; the main response follows.). The fifteenth day of the eighth month. Answered in writing by the monk Shi Sengzhao.

Although the robes and images differ, the wondrous realization is not dual. Though mountains and rivers are far apart, when principle is united, they become neighbors. Therefore, gazing at the distant path stirs longing, and an open heart finds its refuge.

You have now fulfilled the aspiration of noble seclusion, embodying a beauty that transcends the mundane. Serenely dwelling beyond worldly affairs, joy fills your inner being. Whenever I hear word from gatherings, I always sense from afar the refined chants beneath the forest canopy. Their lofty sentiments are serene and profound. Though the time for a clear and carefree meeting is not yet set, I urge you to take good care of yourself.

Whenever messengers travel, I often receive your inquiries. I pray that the mountain monks are well, and that both monastics and lay followers are thriving. Hearing of Venerable Huiyuan's continued excellence brings me great comfort. Though I have not yet received his pure instruction, I have long admired his lofty conduct and earnestly yearned for it.

The Venerable, in his advanced years, possesses a spirit of clarity that grows ever more vigorous. Nurturing disciples in secluded cliffs, embracing unity in the empty valleys, he is revered and praised far and wide. What beauty could surpass this? I too often lift my thoughts to that distant corner, seeking shelter beneath the celestial shore. Having no means to convey my respect, my regret runs deep.

You, in your pure dialogue throughout the day, must surely have the joy of an awakened heart. As for the assembly here, all is as usual. Venerable Kumarajiva is well. The Prince of Qin's nature is naturally inclined to the Way; his innate capacity surpasses the ordinary. He fortifies the Three Jewels, making the propagation of the Dharma his primary task.

Consequently, rare scriptures and eminent monks have come from afar. The spirit of Vulture Peak now gathers in this land. Venerable Fa-lin's distant journey was a bridge for a thousand ages. Returning from the Western Regions, he obtained over two hundred new Mahayana sutras. He invited one Mahayana Meditation Master, one Tripitaka Master, and two Abhidharma Masters.

Venerable Kumarajiva, at the Great Stone Temple, is translating the newly arrived scriptures. The ocean of Dharma is deep and vast, offering new insights daily. The Meditation Master teaches the meditation path at the Tile-Guan Temple. His disciples number in the hundreds, diligent day and night, harmonious and reverent—a truly delightful sight. The Tripitaka Master, at the Central Temple, is translating the Vinaya Pitaka, capturing its essence and details with such precision it is as if one beholds the original precepts. The Abhidharma Masters, at the Stone Sheep Temple, are working on the Sanskrit manuscript of the *Shariputra Abhidharma*. Though not yet translated, occasional discussions reveal novel and profound points.

In this humble life of mine, I have been fortunate to participate in this auspicious era and encounter such flourishing teachings. My only regret is not having witnessed the gatherings in Jetavana during the Buddha's time; what other regret could I have? Yet, I deeply lament not being able to share in this Dharma assembly with noble gentlemen like yourself.

Venerable Sengzhao was here for several years. In our conversations, he often praised and recited [the works of your community]. After he departed southward midway, you had the chance to meet him. Having no recent news since, my melancholy is beyond words.

When Venerable Dao-wei arrived, he brought your "Ode on the Samadhi of Buddha-Recollection" and also Venerable Huiyuan's "Ode on Samadhi" and its preface. These works, lofty in their inspiration and elegant in their expression, are praised by all the literati here. They can indeed be called songs that wander at the sage's gate and knock upon the door of mystery. You and the Venerable Master must have many literary collections. Why are so few sent my way?

In the year of the Horse, Venerable Kumarajiva expounded the *Vimalakirti Sutra*. I was privileged to attend the lectures. In moments of spare time from receiving instruction, I compiled notes from his spoken words into a commentary. Though the language is not literary, the meaning derives from its source. I am now sending a copy south with a messenger. As you are skilled in both literary leisure and discerning principle, please examine it if you have the chance.

Your questions are subtle and penetrating, making it difficult for one like me to respond adequately. My thinking does not penetrate the subtle, and I am clumsy with words. Moreover, the ultimate purport is wordless; words inevitably deviate from it. To chatter on endlessly—what is there to discern? I merely offer these wild words in reply to your esteemed points.

Your letter states: "It is said that the sage's mind is profoundly silent, its principle ultimately identical with non-being. Though dwelling within the realm of names, it is far and identical with the nameless. This principle is so profound and dark, it has long been obscured." Holding this view, one can naturally forget words and attain inwardly, finding stability within. Why then seek differences in the sage's mind based on the differences found in ordinary human sentiments?

Your letter says: "Discussants say that to exhaust spirit and number, to wondrously fulfill and mysteriously accord, then the names 'silence' and 'illumination' are indeed the essence of concentration and wisdom." If the mind's essence is spontaneous, spiritually tranquil and uniquely responsive, then the responses to the multitude of phenomena would nearly cease. The meaning is: Wondrous fulfillment and mysterious accord cannot be labeled with 'concentration' and 'wisdom.' Spiritual tranquility and unique responsiveness cannot be described as the cessation of the multitude of phenomena. Though the two statements differ, their wondrous function is ever one. Traces and selfhood lead to divergence, but in the sage there is no difference.

Why? The sage's mysterious mind silently illuminates; its principle is ultimately identical with non-being. Since it is called identical, this identity leaves nothing unexhausted. How could there be an ultimate identity with non-being, yet still exist the names 'concentration' and 'wisdom'? The names 'concentration' and 'wisdom' are not designations external to this identity. If designations arise within identity, then having designations is not true identity. If designations arise external to identity, then the designations are not of the self.

Furthermore, the sage's mind is empty and subtle, wondrously transcending ordinary states. It responds to all stimuli, connects with all encounters. Its hidden mechanism operates silently; its function is effortless. How could the responses to the multitude of phenomena cease?

Moreover, the existence of the [ordinary] mind is because it exists based on conditions for existence. Having existence, it does not exist of itself. Therefore, the sage's mind does not have existence based on conditions. Not having existence based on conditions, therefore its existence is a non-existence. Because its existence is a non-existence, therefore it is a non-non-existence. Because it is a non-non-existence, therefore the sage neither has nor has-not. Neither having nor having-not, his spirit is thereby empty.

Why? 'Having' and 'having-not' are the shadow and echo of the mind. Words and images are what the shadow and echo cling to. When having and having-not are abandoned, the mind has no shadow or echo. When shadow and echo are submerged, then words and images cannot be fathomed. When words and images cannot be fathomed, the Way is cut off from all directions. The Way cut off from all directions, thus it can exhaust spirit and number. Exhausting spirit and number is called wondrous fulfillment. The path of wondrous fulfillment is fundamentally non-abiding.

Non-abiding lies in mysterious silence. Because of mysterious extinction, it is empty so as to penetrate it. Wondrous fulfillment lies in exhausting number. Because of exhausting number, it uses number to respond. Using number to respond, therefore activity meets with affairs. Being empty so as to penetrate, therefore the Way transcends names. The Way transcending names, consequently it is called 'non-being.' Activity meeting with affairs, consequently it is called 'being.'

That which is consequently called 'being' responds to what is not truly being, but is forcibly called so. How could that [mind] be so? Therefore, the sutra says: "Sagely wisdom is without knowing, yet there is nothing it does not know; it is non-active, yet there is nothing it does not do." This wordless, signless, extinction-path—how could it be said to posit being because of being, or non-being because of non-being, that activity contradicts stillness, or stillness negates function?

Yet nowadays discussants mostly use words to fix the meaning, seeking the great square to find its corner, cherishing prior cognition to mark the mystery, insisting that what they insist on must be correct. Therefore, hearing the sage has knowing, they call it having mind; hearing the sage is without knowing, they equate it with great emptiness. The realms of having and not-having are preserved by extreme views—how could this be the Middle Way of non-duality?

Why? All things, though different, are by nature constantly one. They cannot be made into things, yet they are not non-things. When mind takes things as objects, then names and appearances are arrayed differently. When mind does not take things as objects, then things are identical with truth.

Therefore, the sage does not take things as objects, nor does he deny things as objects. Not taking things as objects, things are not existent. Not denying things as objects, things are not non-existent. Because they are not existent, he does not grasp. Because they are not non-existent, he does not abandon. Not abandoning, therefore wondrous existence is identical with truth. Not grasping, therefore names and appearances have no basis. Names and appearances having no basis—this is not having knowledge. Wondrous existence identical with truth—this is not lacking knowledge.

Therefore, the sutra says: "Prajna, regarding all dharmas, neither grasps nor abandons, neither knows nor does not know." This is beyond the sphere of clinging, the domain where mind is cut off. To interrogate it with 'has' or 'has not'—is that not far off?

Let me question those who posit having and not-having. The arising of [ordinary] knowledge reaches its limit within appearances. Dharmas are originally without appearance—what would sagely knowledge know? What the world calls 'lacking knowledge' refers to things like wood, stone, or the great void—unfeeling streams. But spiritual awareness shines in the dark, manifesting before any sign; the Way has no hidden mechanism—how could this be called 'lacking knowledge'?

Furthermore, 'lacking knowledge' arises from 'not lacking knowledge.' There is no 'lacking knowledge,' and no 'having knowledge.' No 'having knowledge' is called 'not existent.' No 'lacking knowledge' is called 'not non-existent.' Thus, emptiness does not lose illumination; illumination does not lose emptiness. Serenely eternally quiescent, neither attached nor constrained—who can stir it to make it exist, or calm it to make it non-existent?

Therefore, the sutra says: "True Prajna is neither existent nor non-existent, neither arising nor ceasing, and cannot be expressed or shown to people." Why? Saying it is 'not existent' means it is not that it is existent; it does not mean it is that it is non-existent. Saying it is 'not non-existent' means it is not that it is non-existent; it does not mean it is that it is existent. Not existent and not non-existent; not non-existent and not not non-existent. Therefore, Subhuti spoke Prajna all day yet said he had spoken nothing. This path of cutting off words—how can knowledge transmit it? May gentlemen who explore the mystery have the means to comprehend it.

You also say: "We should first determine the principle by which the sage's mind responds and encounters. Is it solely illuminating the signless? Or does it fully perceive transformations?" Discussers seem to think the signless and transformation differ in meaning: perceiving transformation differs from the signless; illuminating the signless misses the encounter. Thus, the meaning of identity with truth may be hindered.

The sutra says: "Form is not different from emptiness; emptiness is not different from form. Form is precisely emptiness; emptiness is precisely form." If it were as your meaning suggests, when contemplating form and emptiness, one should see form with one mind and see emptiness with another mind. If seeing form with one mind, then only form, not emptiness. If seeing emptiness with one mind, then only emptiness, not form. Thus, with form and emptiness presented separately, one cannot ascertain their fundamental [unity].

Therefore, when the sutra says 'not-form,' it truly uses 'not' to negate form regarding form; it does not negate form regarding non-form. If it negated form regarding non-form, then the great void would be 'not-form'—what would negating that clarify? If using 'not-form' (emptiness) regarding form, then 'not-form' (emptiness) is not different from form. 'Not-form' not different from form, therefore form is 'not-form' (emptiness). Hence, we know transformation is precisely the signless; the signless is precisely transformation. Sentient beings' dispositions differ; therefore, the traces of teaching vary.

Investigating the profound texts and basing it on the sage's intent, how could there be a difference between a true mind and a conventional mind, or a different illumination for emptiness and existence? Therefore, illuminating the signless does not lose the function of encountering; perceiving transformations does not violate the purport of the signless. Creating existence is not different from non-existence; creating non-existence is not different from existence. Never not existing, never not non-existing. Thus it is said: "Without moving from equal enlightenment, he establishes all dharmas." Reasoning thus, how could stillness and function hinder each other? How can one say the knowledge that perceives transformation differs from the illumination of the signless?

I fear discussers might think there are two minds for emptiness and existence, with stillness and agitation having distinct functions, hence saying the knowledge that perceives transformation cannot be said to be non-existent. If one can relinquish one's own mind within attachments, seek the mysterious mechanism beyond affairs, equalize all existents within a single emptiness, and understand that the ultimate emptiness is not non-existent—then one should say the supreme person, throughout the day responding and encountering, moves along with things, rides the current and soothes transformations, yet has never been existent. If the sage's mind is like this, what is there to grasp? And yet you say the principle of non-grasping is not yet resolved?

You also say: "'Not being so' is precisely what makes it truly so; 'not being fitting' is precisely what makes it ultimately fitting." This too accords with the Tathagata's words. If one can be without a mind that makes something 'so,' yet be so in a 'not-so'; be without a mind that makes something 'fitting,' yet be fitting in a 'not-fitting'—then being so all day does not contradict 'not-so'; being fitting all day does not contradict 'not-fitting.' I only fear there might be a 'being so' regarding 'not-so,' a 'being fitting' regarding 'not-fitting'—that is the problem.

Why? If the truly so could be affirmed as so, the ultimately fitting could be affirmed as fitting, then names and appearances take form, beauty and ugliness arise, life after life rushes and competes—who can stop it? Therefore, the sage empties his bosom, without discrimination, without knowledge. Yet he dwells in the realm of activity and rests in the state of non-action; resides within the realm of names and abides in the land beyond words. Vast, empty, and silent—it cannot be attained through form or name. It is simply thus. To say the truly so can be affirmed as so, the ultimately fitting can be affirmed as fitting—this does not comprehend the elegant purport.

I fear that 'being so' and 'being fitting' arise because things are considered thus. They themselves are not thus; how can they be considered thus?

The arising of verbal traces is the source from which different paths are born. Yet words have that which they do not speak; traces have that which they do not trace. Therefore, those skilled with words seek what words cannot say; those skilled with traces seek what traces cannot trace. The ultimate principle is empty and mysterious; to conceive of it is already mistaken, let alone to put it into words! I fear what is shown will only become more distant. May gentlemen who communicate heart-to-heart join with me in expectation beyond the text.