"I have given up the life of a warrior for certain reasons, and I have one question to put to the holy monk Hōnen: can one truly go to the Pure Land of Perfect Bliss simply by reciting Namu Amida Butsu? That is my question."
As before, Hōnen smiled as he looked at Naozane and answered: "So you are Master Kumagai Jirō Naozane, who won fame for your valor at the battle of Ichinotani? I have heard much about you, and respect you as a great warrior. Now, as to your question: as I said earlier, if you will only recite the nembutsu, you can be reborn in Amida's Pure Land. It is certain."
"You really can?" asked Naozane again.
"Without question. Lord Amida has promised it; Lord Shakyamuni has guaranteed it; Master Shan-tao has stated it is certain. I cannot believe that these three holy ones are lying"
"Namu Amida Butsu, Namu Amida Butsu, Namu Amida Butsu!" Naozane suddenly began to recite the Holy Name. "Now I've said the nembutsu three times—does that mean I can be reborn in the Pure Land?"
"Assuredly. Now you're a nembutsu devotee, and you will certainly go to the Pure Land of Perfect Bliss," answered Hōnen.
At this, Naozane burst into loud sobs. It was a strange sight: this strong, fierce-looking warrior breaking down and crying, with great tears running down his face. After he had wept unashamedly for a little while, he wiped away his tears and said, "I thought it would be a very hard thing to gain rebirth in Paradise, more difficult than destroying the Heike camp. I was ready to give one or two limbs, or even my life, to gain it. That was how I felt when I came here. And to think that I can get to Paradise without giving up my life, or even an arm or a leg, just by saying Namu Amida Butsu! I'm grateful, so grateful, so very grateful." And he started to cry again.
Hōnen sat watching him for a while and then, apparently deciding that this fine fellow would make a good disciple, admitted him to the community. This was how Naozane became a nembutsu monk.
Even after he returned to the Eastlands to spread the teachings, Naozane frequently recalled Hōnen's words when he admitted him to the community. True, the Master had said that anyone could go to the Pure Land if he simply recited the nembutsu. But Rensei-bō (as he was now called) often wondered if this might not be just a means of encouraging foolish and ignorant people to enter the way of the nembutsu. He read the Sutra of Meditation on the Buddha of Infinite Life and learned the doctrine of the nine grades of rebirth: the idea that, depending on their deeds in this life, nembutsu believers would be reborn in one of nine levels of the Pure Land, ranging from the "highest birth of the highest grade" down to the "lowest birth of the lowest grade."
Rensei-bō suspected that when Hōnen said everyone could be reborn, he meant at least in the lowest of the nine grades. Probably ordinary people could not attain rebirth on the higher levels, and particularly in the "highest birth of the highest grade." After all, it was said that the High Priest Eshin himself had prayed only for the "highest birth of the lowest grade." But Rensei-bō would never be content with that: if he was to be reborn, he wanted it to be on the highest level of all.
He had a particular reason for wanting this. There were frequent debates among Hōnen's disciples as to what became of people after their rebirth in the Pure Land. Did they simply remain there forever, or did they at some point come back to this world? It was a difficult question, and one day Rensei-bō had asked Hōnen himself about it.
"I don't really know what happens after rebirth, but I believe we come back. I don't see how a nembutsu believer could remain idly in the Pure Land as long as there are people still suffering in this world. When I come back, I'd like to have greater powers, so I could save as many of the suffering as possible."
Hearing this reply, Rensei-bō felt that he too would like to come back to this world and be able to save people as he wished, just like Hōnen. To do that, he would need to attain rebirth on the very highest level. He thought so at the time, and he became even more obsessed with the idea after going back to the East. He wanted to attain the highest birth of the highest grade; if he could not have that, he would just as soon be rejected altogether! He would make a vow, a powerful vow like Hōzō Bodhisattva's. And so he wrote a short hymn, expressing his personal vow:
The eight low levels of rebirth
I now forsake, nor for them shall I pray.
For those who pass into those realms
Cannot return again one day.
Having made his vow, Rensei-bō prayed daily to Lord Amida that it might be fulfilled.
One night about a month after making his vow, he had a dream. There was a large pond whose surface was covered with lotus flowers. The flowers were of many colors, red and blue and purple, as well as the white ones usual in this world. They grew in such rich and wild profusion that the pond was filled with them; but in their very midst, there rose a single huge lotus stem. It was as thick as a cryptomeria tree, and towered up over a hundred feet. At the tip of that tall, thick trunk shone a golden lotus which gave off a wondrous fragrance.
"This is the lotus for those who attain the highest birth of the highest grade," a voice whispered. Rensei-bō was one among tens of thousands of onlookers gathered around the pond. Everyone was drinking wine, eating dainties, and waiting in anticipation of a spectacle which was just about to begin.
A warrior in armor leapt into the pond and at once swam his way to the lotus stem. He began to climb up slowly, but it was so slippery that there was hardly a hand- or foot-hold for him. Even so, the armored warrior hung on frantically and kept climbing. It was hard for him, though—perhaps due to the weight of his armor. The pace at which he climbed grew slower and slower, until at last he slipped from the stem and fell into the pond.
Then another man swam lightly across the pond and arrived at the lotus stem. He climbed up it, deft as a monkey, to the amazement of the crowd. "Oh, that's the acrobat from China," said someone. The acrobat had soon climbed to a point just below the golden lotus, but to get on top of the flower he would have to make his way up from under the open petals. These petals, however, were of an almost metallic hardness. The acrobat did his best to clamber up their undersides so as to emerge on top, but it was a far more difficult task than scaling the stem had been. It proved impossible even for him, and he too fell into the pond.
The onlookers' sighs ruffled the surface of the water. Then, as if in mockery, a long-nosed goblin used a fan of feathers to rise through the air high up into the sky. "An Indian goblin!" cried the crowd, though Rensei-bō did not know how they could tell—it was little different from an ordinary Japanese goblin. Waving the fan, it balanced skillfully, moving up and down, right and left, positioning itself just over the lotus. All it had to do now was descend and make its landing. Just when the crowd was sure it would succeed, there was a roll of thunder and a flash of lightning, and the goblin was nowhere to be seen. "It's against the rules. We can't have that! The rule is that you swim across the pond and climb up the trunk!" said someone.
For some time thereafter, no one attempted to approach the lotus, but eventually a warrior appeared and announced loudly: "I am Rensei-bō of Kumagai, Master Hōnen's mostfavored disciple, and I shall be the first to mount the lotus of the highest birth of the highest grade!"
The figure was certainly Rensei-bō, but another Rensei-bō was standing by the pond, watching him. This second Rensei-bō looking on anxiously as the first one slowly breast-stroked his way toward the lotus stem and, reaching it, began to climb steadily upward. When he came to the point just below the opened flower, he drew his sword and cut a hole in the petals, and thus was able to climb up onto the lotus. Then he cried out proudly, in a voice like a cracked bell, "I, Rensei-bō of Kumagai, am the first one to attain the highest birth of the highest grade in the Pure Land of
Perfect Bliss!" The watching crowd burst into loud cheers, and the second Rensei-bō standing by the side of the pond also cheered and applauded. The loud sound of the applause, in fact, woke Rensei-bō from his dream.
The people of those days believ
ed in dream-oracles, in which the gods and buddhas revealed their will in the form of dreams. Thus it was not unreasonable for Rensei-bō to think that Lord Amida had given him a personal guarantee of the highest birth in the highest grade of Paradise in the form of this dream.
Rensei-bō boasted to his family and his students, "I'm sure to be reborn in the highest level of Paradise. Lord Amida told me so in a dream. I'm sure Master Hōnen will be able to too, but I'll get there first!"
"Well, that's wonderful, isn't it," those around him said; but they were hard put to find a good response to his next announcement.
"Now then, since my rebirth in the highest grade is guaranteed, I want to get to Paradise as soon as I can. And I'd like as many people as possible to watch me when I do it."
"Oh, but there's no need to rush it, surely," they said.
"No, no. 'Hasten to do a good deed,' as the proverb says."
"Well, but, it's not so easy, dying. Are you planning to perform harakiri?"
"Of course not. I have no intention whatsoever of cutting my belly open. I've been praying to Lord Amida every day, and I'm sure he'll come and get me himself when the time comes."
His family and students tried to persuade Rensei-bō to give up this reckless plan of his, but he was the sort who, once he got an idea in his head, would listen to no one. There was nothing for it but to go along with his plan, worrisome though that was. He despatched his students to all areas of the Eastlands, having them put up signs at the street corners announcing his intention of publicly accomplishing his rebirth in the Pure Land: "On the fifteenth day of the second month of next year, Rensei-bō of Kumagai will carry out his vow to attain the highest birth of the highest grade in the Pure Land of Perfect Bliss. Let all who doubt this come and see for themselves. Come and witness Kumagai's end, and recount it for generation after generation."
It was in the ninth month of the previous year that Rensei-bō had his students put these signs up. In the succeeding months, a great many people read them and decided to see for themselves the journey to Paradise of Kumagai Rensei-bō, the greatest hero of the Eastlands. When the time came, huge crowds gathered in Kumagai village, the numbers reaching into the tens and hundreds of thousands.
A clay platform, rather like a large sumo ring, had been built in the middle of a broad plain, at Rensei-bō's orders. There was a square lower section and a round stage-like area above. A large number of monks were seated in the lower section and had been reciting the nembutsu since morning. At last, a little past noon, Rensei-bō made his entrance, preceded and followed by an attendant monk. He seated himself on the round upper stage and began to read, together with the other monks, the three principal sutras sacred to the Pure Land School. When they finished, the invocation of the Holy Name began. The plan was that Lord Amida would come to welcome him and escort him to the Pure Land during the invocations.
Since it was all planned in advance, Rensei-bō had no doubts about what would happen: in the midst of the chanted nembutsu, he would hear the music of the heavenly maidens and would see Lord Amida, accompanied by the bodhisattvas Kannon and Seishi, coming to welcome him. They would invite him to mount a lotus-throne and then waft him to paradise.
Actually, he had been quite concerned about the events of this day ever since he had announced his impending rebirth to the public in the ninth month of the previous year. He had inquired of Lord Amida many times if everything was in order. Each time, the Buddha had smiled warmly and said nothing. Rensei-bō had interpreted this to mean that everything was set. After all, why would Lord Amida not grant the wish of someone who reverenced him and yearned for his Pure Land so deeply?
The nembutsu recitation had begun, and the crowd was waiting in breathless anticipation to watch Rensei-bō go to Paradise. But no strains of sacred music played by heavenly maidens came to Rensei-bō's ears. And no trace of Lord Amida coming to welcome him at the head of the Holy Throng was visible. What had happened, he wondered. He put his hand to his chest and found that his heart was still beating with perfect regularity. His body was still filled with the life force. At this rate, he'd never die! He had no choice but to call off his rebirth.
"I have an announcement to make to all of you who were good enough to come from the distant parts of the Eastlands to witness how I, Rensei-bō, would attain rebirth. I am truly sorry to have put you to so much trouble today, and I am very grateful to you all. I had planned to leave for Paradise here and now, but I have just received a message from Lord Amida saying that he is very busy in the Pure Land today and will not be able to come for me. Of course, he could have sent Kannon and Seishi as his representatives, but he feels he has to come himself in a case like mine, where it's the highest birth of the highest grade. That's what he said. So my rebirth will be postponed until the fourth day of the ninth month, next year. I ask you all to come back then, when you'll be able to see Kumagai Naozane ascend in glory to Paradise." This was said in a voice which, though fully audible to the congregation, was not nearly as loud as usual.
The crowd was amazed, and also disappointed, like an audience that has come to see a famous actor perform and then finds the play canceled. Tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of sighs escaped from as many mouths. Then the sighs changed to mocking laughter, and at last to jeers. "Shitty priest—afraid to die, are you?" "Swindler! You lied to get us here so you could take our money!" The crowd left the village of Kumagai in a storm of complaints and insults.
Rensei-bō's family and students had lost face and were painfully troubled by the question of why he hadn't decided to carry out his plan. All he could do was humbly apologize to them: "I'm sorry, very sorry. I shouldn't have trusted Lord Amida so much."
His failure to attain rebirth was a great shock to Rensei-bō. He had been disgraced in front of a crowd of tens and hundreds of thousands. Nothing was more unbearable to an Eastern warrior than public disgrace—the only recourse was to die. But he had planned to die and then failed, the ultimate shame. He had to do something to clear his name: he absolutely had to succeed in attaining rebirth on the fourth day of the ninth month, next year.
Meeting with humiliation for the first time in his life, he began to reflect deeply on himself, also for the first time. It had been wrong of him not to make sure he understood Lord Amida's intentions; wrong to interpret them as he saw fit, according to his own convenience. He realized that now. He was sixty-seven years old but in perfect physical health. His body was that of a young man. He knew that rebirth would be very difficult for him unless he somehow weakened his strong body and also his spirit, teaching it meekness. And that is just what he now set out to do.
He still had a year and a half, time enough in which to tame body and spirit and make them ready for Lord Amida's coming. He would first have to cut back on his food. He had been a big eater since his youth, and a big drinker as well. Drinking had been given up as a matter of course when he became a monk, but he was still a big eater. He would polish off five bowls of rice as well as double portions of meat, fish, and vegetables at a single meal. This was hardly preparation for death! He decided to take only one portion of rice and one bowl of soup each day. This total reversal of the habits of many years was almost as painful as dying.
Nevertheless he rigorously observed the precepts he had set for himself, and his efforts were highly successful. After half a year, he had grown very thin; and in another year he was so weak that it was painful for him to be out of bed. Watching him, his family and students worried whether he could last until the fourth day of the ninth month. If he died before then, it would simply compound the disgrace. Yet Rensei-bō did last, despite their fears. All summer he had kept to his bed, but as the appointed date approached, he got up and set to work with his students, practicing and preparing for the long-awaited day.
At last it came. This time a dry riverbed had been chosen as the site, and people gathered from all over the Eastlands and even other parts of Japan—if not in as great numbers as before, at any rate i
n the tens of thousands. The student-monks had been chanting the nembutsu there since early morning when, shortly after noon, Rensei-bō, accompanied by two attendants, joined them. He was dressed in a ragged black cassock, rather than the rich golden vestments he had worn the year before. The year and a half of ascetic living had left him terribly thin; everyone was amazed to see the mighty Rensei-bō turned to skin and bones. Only his piercing eyes were unchanged, reminding them of the former Kumagai Jirō Naozane.
He sat down on the crude straw mat spread on the riverbed and joined his companions in reciting the Holy Name. He did not read the Three Sutras, as before, but began at once with the simple repetition of the nembutsu. He had hardly begun to recite it when he heard from somewhere the faint sound of beautiful music. The music of the heavenly maidens! he thought, and then saw Amida Buddha with Kannon and Seishi in the midst of the Holy Throng coming to welcome him. Lord Amida spoke: "You have been a pure-hearted believer in the nembutsu. And so, Rensei-bō, I will take you now to my Pure Land of Perfect Bliss, for the highest birth of the highest grade."
Hearing Amida's voice, Rensei-bō was assured at last that he had attained his goal. Looking at the Buddha's face, he noticed that it seemed strangely like Master Hōnen's. He gave a little gasp of surprise, and with that he was gone.
One of the student-monks felt his pulse and, telling the crowd by signs that he was dead, asked them all to join in the nembutsu. The invocation of the Holy Name rising from tens of thousands of throats echoed to the heavens and pierced the earth, praising the wondrous rebirth of this peerless devotee of the nembutsu.
Lotus & Other Tales of Medieval Japan Page 12