---
title: "念佛警策 · 示丁耕野居士"
description: "念佛警策由清代居士彭际清纂集，成书于乾隆年间。该书辑录了净土宗历代祖师大德关于念佛修行的精要开示、往生事迹及劝诫语录，旨在警策修行者精进念佛、深信切愿、求生净土。作为净土宗重要典籍，它系统总结了念佛实践的心要，强化了信愿行的修学体系，对清代以来净土法门的传播与修行产生了深远影响，是修习念佛法门不可或缺的指导性文献。"
url: "https://rushiwowen.co/en/r/cmex3bo3f24a0jp044xhpk1fq"
---

### 示丁耕野居士

> For Layman Ding Gengye

截流禪師

> Master Chan Master Jieliu

昔寂室和尚云。世人欲修淨業。不可言我今忙迫。且待閒暇。我今貧乏。且待富足。我今少壯。且待老時。若分定常忙。分定貧乏。分定夭折。即於淨業無緣修習。忽爾喪亡。雖悔無及。何如趁身強健。努力修之。至哉言乎。然今之人無論信樂者少。縱能深信淨土。而因循需待蹉過一生者。比比皆是也。居士天姿醇謹。向見衲不久。即能警悟無常。長齋事佛。蓋宿緣有在也。然居士家無恒產。歲以館穫得糈。夫家無恒產則不足可知矣。身有館職則不閒可知矣。年方半百則未至衰老可知矣。乃一旦謝館不赴。却諸門弟子。秉持滿分優婆塞戒。楗戶終年。專力淨業。至于資糧薪水初無會計。非勇猛丈夫而能若是乎。且以斗室狹隘。半供經像。於中避囂息影。銳意精修。一如夏屋寬舒。泰然自足。惟慮其不能久久如斯也。嗟乎夫人之居世。亦何足定哉。竊嘗論之。暇莫暇於不失時。富莫富於常知足。強莫強於勤精進。今居士兼三者而有焉。則雖舉天下之閒者富者強有力者與居士較。吾知其有名而無義矣。能如是。於生淨土也何有。然更有一語願相告誡者。譬如萬斛之舟。欲有所往。檣非不高也。柁非不正也。資具非不完備也。去志非不決也。乘風張帆。有瞬息千里之勢。倘若船頭一樁未曾拔却。被一條纜索繫住。雖種種推排。其能有濟否。今時淨業人。有終日念佛。懺罪發願。而西方尚遙。往生弗保者。無他。愛樁未󳫠。情纜猶牢故也。若能將娑婆恩愛。視同嚼蠟。不管忙閒動靜。苦樂憂喜。靠著一句佛號。如須彌山相似。一切境緣無能搖動。或時自覺疲懈。惑習現前。便奮起一念。如倚天長劍。使煩惱魔軍。逃竄無地。亦如紅鑪猛火。使無始情識。銷鑠無餘。此人雖現處五濁之鄉。已渾身坐在蓮華國裏。又何待彌陀授手。觀音勸駕。而始信其往生哉。或曰彼居士勇猛精進如是。豈復牽於情愛。不幾於無病而授藥乎。予曰。不然。古人云。愛不重不生娑婆。又云。道念若同情念。則成佛多時。五通仙人累劫精勤。尚以欲漏未除。墮其功行。故知未登聖果以還。鮮有不被其繫累者。居士果世念輕微。道心勇銳。見欲如避火坑。憶佛如戀慈母。淨齋清課。永矢弗渝。又何妨以無病好人。常服良藥。寧不起居輕利。轉益強健乎。總之煩惱無盡。而生死根本。則唯貪愛能漂溺行人。障往生法。是故先佛經中處處訶責。但情愛一分疎澹。則淨業一分成熟。於生死岸頭。庶得解脫也。居士其勉之哉。

> Once, the Venerable Master Jishi said: "People who wish to cultivate the practice of rebirth shouldn't say, 'I'm too busy now, let me wait until I have leisure,' or 'I'm too poor now, let me wait until I'm wealthy,' or 'I'm still young and strong, let me wait until old age.' If fate has appointed you to constant busyness, poverty, or an early death, you'll never have the opportunity to practice. When death suddenly comes, regret will be useless. So how much better to strive while your body is still strong and healthy!" These words are indeed profound. Yet among people today, regardless of how few genuinely believe and delight in this teaching, even among those who do have deep faith in the Pure Land, those who procrastinate, put things off, and let life slip by are everywhere. The lay practitioner, with a naturally sincere and cautious disposition, upon meeting this humble monk, was quickly awakened to the reality of impermanence. He adopted a long-term vegetarian diet and devoted himself to serving the Buddha—surely a karmic connection from past lives. However, the lay practitioner has no fixed family property and provides for his family through annual teaching positions. Without fixed assets, his insufficiency is clear. With his teaching duties, his lack of leisure is obvious. At just around fifty years of age, he has not yet reached advanced old age. Yet in a single stroke, he declined his teaching posts, dismissed his students, and upheld the complete precepts of an upāsaka. He shut his door for the entire year, devoting all his energy to the practice of rebirth. He keeps no accounting of livelihood or daily expenses. Is this not the mark of a brave and heroic cultivator? Moreover, his one-room dwelling is cramped, half of it occupied by scriptures and images. Within it, he avoids clamor, restrains himself, and sharpens his practice with keen determination—as though residing in a spacious hall, content and fulfilled. His only concern is whether he can maintain this for long. Alas! What certainty does human life hold? I have often reflected: no leisure is greater than never missing the right moment; no wealth is greater than constant contentment; no strength is greater than diligent effort. Our lay practitioner possesses all three simultaneously. So even if all the leisured, wealthy, and strong people in the world were compared with him, I know they'd have the name without the reality. With such qualities, what obstacle remains to rebirth in the Pure Land? Yet there is one more thing I wish to advise him. Consider a massive ship of ten thousand piculs bound for a distant port. The mast is tall enough, the rudder is properly aligned, the provisions are complete, and the intent to depart is resolute. It catches the wind with full sails, moving at a speed of a thousand leagues in an instant. But if a single mooring post at the bow has not been pulled up, and it remains tethered by a rope, then no matter how it's pushed and strained, can it possibly make progress? People today who practice rebirth sometimes chant the Buddha's name all day, repent their sins, and make vows, yet the Western Land remains far away and rebirth is not assured. Why? Because the post of attachment has not been pulled loose, and the rope of affection is still firmly bound. If one can treat the emotional bonds of this Saha world like chewed wax—regardless of busy or idle, activated or still, suffering or joy, grief or delight—and lean wholly on the single phrase "Namo Amitābha Buddha" as firmly as Mount Sumeru, so that no circumstance or condition can shake it; and if occasionally feeling weary or lax when habitual delusions surface, one rouses a single thought like a towering heavenly sword, making the demonic armies of affliction flee with no place to hide; or like the blazing fire of a red furnace melting and consuming beginningless emotional attachments without remainder—then such a person, though presently dwelling in the land of the Five Turbidities, is already sitting squarely within the Lotus Land. Why should he wait for Amitābha to extend his hand or Guanyin to urge him onward before believing in his own rebirth? Someone might object: "The lay practitioner is so brave and vigorous—surely he's not entangled by emotional attachments. Isn't this prescribing medicine to someone without illness?" I say: Not so. The ancients said, "If love were not weighty, one would not be born in Saha." Another saying goes: "If the thought of the Way were equal to the thought of affection, awakening would have come long ago." The Five Supernatural Sages, after eons of diligent cultivation, still had their achievements destroyed because the leak of desire had not been eliminated. Thus we know that, for those who have not yet reached the level of sacred attainment, few escape being bound by these ties. If the lay practitioner truly has few worldly concerns, a sharp and courageous mind for the Way, views desires as one would avoid a pit of fire, recollects the Buddha like a child longing for a loving mother, and remains forever resolute in his pure vegetarian practice and daily recitation—then why begrudge a healthy person taking good medicine? Wouldn't it surely strengthen his health and vigor further? In short, afflictions are endless, but the root of birth-and-death is only craving and attachment, which can drown a practitioner and obstruct the practice of rebirth. This is why the Buddhas in the scriptures repeatedly condemn it. To the extent that emotional attachment diminishes, one's practice of rebirth matures accordingly, and at the brink of death, liberation may be attained. Lad lay practitioner, please strive forward!