Lankavatara Sutra (楞伽經集註)

No. 324-C Gebi Notes

This sutra is how the Tathagata reveals the realm of the Buddhas’ direct presence—a method for sentient beings to awaken suddenly, cutting the threads of deluded thinking and going beyond words and concepts. Hence, it bears the name *Lankavatara*—it is neither a person nor a doctrine. Its essence is ultimate reality—neither existence nor emptiness. Its core is the Buddha’s speech as mind—neither true nor false. Its function is self-realized noble wisdom—neither cultivated nor attained. Its teaching is like fresh cream—neither milk nor curds. Its words are simple, yet its meaning is profound—towering above all other sutras. How could ordinary consciousness or limited intellect ever reach it?

From my youth, I shaved my head and took up the staff, wandering beyond the mundane world. Often, during quiet sitting, I respectfully read this sutra, but its phrases and meaning seemed obscure, and I could not finish a scroll. Later, I consulted eminent masters and senior teachers, but whether they were of the Chan or doctrinal schools, they too were vague in their understanding.

In the winter of the Longxing era (1164 CE), I met my Dharma relative Bunā (a monk of coarse robes) at Mount Four Ancestors in Qizhou. I again asked about points I had not yet understood. Bunā looked at me carefully and said: “This is the realm of noble wisdom—it cannot be entered by those with coarse minds. Yet if you wish to enter it, there is a skillful means.”

I replied, “Please teach me.”

He said: “This sutra has three translations. During the Yuanjia era of the Liu-Song dynasty (435 CE), the Central Indian Tripiṭaka master Guṇabhadra (meaning ‘Meritorious Sage’) translated it in four scrolls at the Grass Hall Temple in Jinling—this is in the ‘Body’ character case. During the Yanchang era of the Later Wei dynasty (512 CE), the Northern Indian Tripiṭaka master Bodhiruci (meaning ‘Awakening to Hope’) translated it in ten scrolls at Prince Runan’s residence in Luoyang and the Jinhua Temple in Ye—this is in the ‘Hair’ character case. During the Jiushi era of the Great Tang dynasty (704 CE), the Khotanese Tripiṭaka master Śikṣānanda (meaning ‘Awakening to Joy’) translated it in seven scrolls at the Tianzhong Temple on Mount Song—this is in the ‘Four’ character case. Try taking the Wei and Tang translations, seventeen scrolls total, and place them alongside the four scrolls of the Song translation. Clarify your spiritual vision, compare and study them, savor their meaning. Then you will not only be able to read this sutra but also enter it.”

Following his advice, I took the two earlier translations and combined them with the current four-scroll version, reading for a full month. Then, for the first time, the obstacles in phrases and meaning melted like ice. Deeply grateful and moved, I wished to spread these teachings, but my resources were insufficient.

In the spring of the first year of the Qingyuan era (1195 CE), I traveled from the Yongshou Monastery in Wuxing to the capital, where I visited Mr. Huang at his hermitage in the Northern Garden. After our meal, while drinking tea, he suddenly said to me: “Since the patriarch Bodhidharma pointed directly to this *Lankavatara Sutra*, even great scholars and eminent teachers have struggled with its punctuation and phrasing—how much more ordinary people? If you, monk, can offer the endless benefit of Dharma teachings, how about if I sponsor the carving and printing?”

I replied, “For spreading the teachings, I certainly have no objection. However, Chan practitioners will say: ‘You are a Chan practitioner—why do you engage in doctrinal study?’ Doctrinal scholars will say: ‘You are a Chan practitioner—why interfere with our field? If people do not accept this, then even if I exhaust my limited understanding, how can I earn the trust of later generations?”

Mr. Huang said: “Not so. Chan is the mind transmitted by the Buddhas and patriarchs; the teachings are the Dharma spoken by the Buddhas and patriarchs. Without Chan, one cannot penetrate the teachings; without the teachings, one cannot transmit the mind. How could anyone be so foolish as not to see this?”

I replied: “Well said. The ancients invariably practiced Chan and teachings together, equally fluent in essence and explanation. But in this degenerate age, scholars cling to their own subjective views, contradicting each other. Since you, sir, alone have said this, dare I not encourage myself to follow the example of the ancients?”

Mr. Huang nodded in agreement. I then returned to my old dwelling at Yongshou, and together with my friend Wisdom Light, I again took up all three versions of the sutra. I also consulted the commentary by an anonymous Tang dynasty venerable master, the new explanation by the Song dynasty eastern capital monk Baochen, and the compilation by the Fujian layman Yang Yanguo of Mount Taimu. Furthermore, as part of my studies in the *Record of the Mirror of Dharma* by Chan Master Zhiyue, I found discussions relevant to this sutra. I collected all these, along with various sutras and treatises, and over a period of nine weeks—burning incense, sitting face-to-face with my materials—I delved into hidden meanings, picking out essential points, and inserted them beneath Guṇabhadra’s translation.

By the eighth month of that autumn, together with Wisdom Light, I moved to the Longevity Star Monastery on the northern hills of West Lake. The abbot, Stone Hut Blessing Longevity, hosted us in the southern pavilion of his abbot’s quarters, allowing me to complete this work. Burning the midnight oil, we compiled what became the *Collected Annotations on the Lankavatara Sutra*. Any annotation not prefaced by “according to such-and-such sutra, treatise, or author” is my own humble opinion.

What I refer to as the “old commentary” was obtained by Xie Ruhui of Runan from an ancient scriptural repository on Mount Lu. It was copied in the mid-Tang dynasty by a scribe, whose name is unknown. The so-called “new explanation” attributed to the Tang dynasty monk Zhiyan, who translated scriptures at the Jing’ai Temple, is incorrect. According to monastic history, Zhiyan was a monk from the time of Emperor Wen of the Liu-Song dynasty, who worked on translations in Yangdu—*before* Guṇabhadra. Since the sutra did not yet exist, how could he have written a commentary? Some recent claims that it was written by Chan Master Yuanwu are even more mistaken.

The *Lankavatara*—sometimes written as *Langavatara* (pronounced lèng)—is commonly used by Westerners. For any textual errors or omissions, I have corrected or supplemented them by cross-referencing with the Wei and Tang translations; these were not arbitrary modifications. I began polishing my inkstone in the spring of the Yimao year (1195 CE) and put down my brush in the summer of the Bingchen year (1196 CE). After the commentary was completed, the layman Dream Observation Huang Fuyou added phonetic glosses. When Mr. Huang heard of this, he donated his own official salary to commission calligraphy and carving, so that the work could be widely spread.

However, Bodhidharma once said: “In five hundred years, this sutra will be turned into a teaching of forms and marks.” By devoting myself so thoroughly to this task, am I not fulfilling the patriarch’s prophecy, only adding redundant words to both Chan and doctrinal traditions?

Layman Huang’s name is Rulin, his style name is Shishuo, and he styles himself Layman Jing’an.

On the Buddha Bathing Day of that year, I, the old man Wuzuo of Lei'an, respectfully recorded this.