Tracking Bodhidharma

by Andy Ferguson

  To understand whether Bodhidharma’s faction was present at this ceremony sponsored by the “Imperial Religious Directorate,” we need to take a look at the names.

  One of the Zen Master’s names is unintelligible. This is unfortunate, as one is left to wonder whether it may have been Lao An, the monk of extremely high reputation who was honored by the then Empress Wu Zetian and who died in 708.

  Also, the stele refers to monks present by only one of the characters of their Dharma names. It refers to a “Zen Master Si,” who could logically be a Zen master named Miao Si, who was a disciple of Faru and thus a member of the Bodhidharma-derived East Mountain school of Daoxin. If this indeed was Miao Si, then it means that monks of the Bodhisattva Precepts tradition (Great Vehicle Buddhism) were joining with traditional Hinayana Precepts school (Small Vehicle Buddhism) monks to honor the ordination platform.

  So if this Imperial-Way Buddhism ordination place was dominant, did any Bodhidharma faction monks really use the Signless Precepts expounded by Huineng? Perhaps it was allowed that the Zen monks could have their own local precepts ceremonies using other precepts, and thus peace between the imperial center and the independent Zen of distant places was maintained. Such a development would have no doubt caused conflict with the Precepts school, which saw itself as the true guardian of the genuine Buddhist precepts.

  If the ordination platform here described was indeed the central platform for the country, then it would likely have been the place where Zen Master Mazu took his official vows at Mount Song sometime around the year 730. Thus, soon after Yijing set up the platform, monks of the Southern school of Zen took their vows there.

  Details of this aspect of official and Imperial-Way Buddhism’s attempts to maintain central control over Zen may be revealed by future research. For now we are left with questions about whether the monks in attendance agreed on what vows would be taken on the platform. Was there an argument between the Precepts and the Zen school? Some Chinese scholars claim that this conflict existed and that Precepts sect monks would not recognize the Zen monks’ right to administer any sort of precepts whatsoever, Bodhisattva, signless, or otherwise. That Yijing had both Zen monks and Precepts monks attending the platform ceremony suggests that they were trying to bridge the gap between them.

  But a possibly mysterious clue about the controversy surrounding this ordination platform is that it was established, but then left unused, for about ten years before the memorial inscription written above was placed on the site. This might indicate that political infighting surrounded the platform’s role in Buddhist circles, and that the hidden struggle between Imperial-Way Buddhism and Bodhidharma’s lineage was protracted but not openly acknowledged.

  One more claim by the scholar Zhang Jianwei about this platform is worth noting. He claims that the actual location of this ordination platform may not have been at Shaolin Temple at all. Instead, it was at Huishan Temple, where the remains of just such an ordination platform have recently been unearthed near Zen Master Jingzang’s stupa. Zhang points out that the Shaolin and Huishan Temples were often referred to synonymously, as closely bound sister temples, and thus were sometimes seen to be the same institution.

  Imagine that the emperor, through his representative Yijing, required that the Hinayana precepts, the long version that required long training and practice, were to be universally embraced. Imagine also that Zen Master Si, and later Zen Master Jingzang, represented the Bodhisattva Precepts, or even the Signless Precepts that tradition attributes to Zen’s Huineng. Finally, imagine that when Jingzang died, his huge memorial was a symbolic gesture from the ascending Southern faction, which claimed allegiance to the Sixth Ancestor Huineng and declared that Bodhidharma’s true Zen, the independent Zen of individuals who followed the internal light, was alive and growing in the center, the very heart, of the great and imperial Tang dynasty. The memorial, not noted in official records, sits only a few feet from the recently unearthed ordination platform. Was it meant as a stick in the emperor’s eye?

  44. The Temples of Luoyang

  From incalculable cons in the past until now, through all the events of the universe, all periods of time, and all places without exception, none of it has been other than your own mind, all of it none other than your own Buddha. Mind is Buddha, and it has always been thus. Apart from this mind there is no other Buddha to be understood. Apart from this mind there is no other place where wisdom and nirvana may be found.

  —From the BLOOD VEIN DISCOURSE, a text attributed to Bodhidharma

  EARLY IN THE MORNING I get up and sit meditation, then make ready to travel by bus to Luoyang. Shanli has expressed a desire to travel there with me for the day, as he wants to visit the ancient site of Yongning Temple, a site connected with Bodhidharma. I learned the location of that temple on previous trips to Luoyang and am happy to repay Shanli’s hospitality by taking him there.

  While Shaolin Temple is not far from Luoyang, Shanli doesn’t travel there often. For many years an expressway has connected the two places. When I mention this to Shanli, he says he’s never traveled on that road. He has only taken the old highway that passes through the mountains near Shaolin Temple. That’s the bus route we will take together on a public coach.

  “We don’t want to leave too early,” says Shanli. “The highway can be icy.”

  The following morning the sun is shining and snow that had collected around the hotel during recent days is melting rapidly. I call Shanli at 9:45 to tell him I’m leaving for the bus station, located only a few minutes from my hotel. The bus to Luoyang will stop at Shaolin Temple on the old highway, so Shanli can simply get on the bus there. I tell him I’ll buy him a ticket in Luoyang and save him a seat on the bus. He agrees and says he’ll need to walk from the temple proper to the bus stop by the highway, a twenty-five-minute walk. I tell him I’ll call when I find out what time the bus leaves. Arriving at the Dengfeng bus station at 9:55, I buy two tickets for the ten o’clock bus and call Shanli again.

  “I’ve got tickets on the ten o’clock bus.”

  “Okay!” he says. “I’m leaving the temple right now! I’ll hurry to the gate.”

  It’s about a five-mile drive from Dengfeng station to Shaolin Temple, so Shanli is worried the bus will pass the temple before he gets to the main gate to catch it. But true to form, the bus doesn’t manage to actually leave the station until ten fifteen. Then it proceeds slowly through Dengfeng City. It stops to pick up passengers several times. Things are going slowly. My phone rings. It’s Shanli.

  “I’m at the temple gate!” he says. I haven’t missed you, have I?” I can hear him panting between sentences. Obviously he ran all the way to the gate of temple.

  “This is China!” I yell into my phone over the loud noise of the bus engine. “We’re twenty minutes late already. We won’t get to Shaolin Temple for another twenty minutes!”

  “I ran all the way here!” he says breathlessly.

  Twenty minutes later we finally arrive at Shaolin Temple, and Shanli hops aboard the bus. It’s only a short distance to the mountain pass that leads to Luoyang. Within minutes we arrive there, and I’m surprised to notice that on the shady north side of the pass there is still a layer of frost on the highway. It’s a steep drop toward the Yellow River plain several hundred meters down the side of the mountain, and it’s clear that the highway is still icy and dangerous.

  Shanli has brought along his little video camera and now starts shooting the ride down the mountain. A few trucks and cars have slid on the ice and collided. They’ve been pushed to the side of the road. Some big trucks are coming up the mountain, and a few cars going the opposite way, throwing caution to the wind, are actually passing us, speeding downhill despite the unsafe conditions. It’s obvious the bus driver is nervous.

  As we wind carefully down the twisting road, Shanli starts interviewing me with his video camera.

  “Have you ever felt in danger during your travels in China?” he asks, the camera a few inches from
my face.

  “Constantly!” I joke.

  In almost the same moment the bus suddenly lurches sideways as a truck coming up the mountain appears from around a curve. The truck is passing a car coming slowly uphill, and it is now within a few feet of the bus, coming head on. Our bus driver jerks the bus hard to the right, and we all tumble. Brakes screeching, we pass within inches of the massive truck loaded down with a mountain of rocks. Our driver screams out some obscenities as he yanks again on the wheel and narrowly avoids the ditch, swerving dangerously back into the center of the road. We feel the bus sliding on the ice. But somehow the driver keeps us from smashing into the truck, going into the ditch, or careening over the ledge on the other side. Thankfully, within a few minutes we’ve descended far enough that ice no longer covers the roadbed. Slowly regaining our wits, we start breathing normally again.

  The old highway between Shaolin Temple and Luoyang City passes near some of China’s earliest historical sites. Chinese scholars believe that the capital of the Xia, China’s legendary first dynasty, was located in this area around 2000 BCE. A major Xia archeological dig to uncover the ancient capital is near a little village called Erligou (pronounced Ar-li-go) close to the highway on which we’re traveling. The palace of the ancient Shang dynasty, circa 1600 BCE, is also near the highway. As we travel along, we pass the home village of Xuanzang, the famous seventh-century pilgrim who braved the desert and successfully traveled to India to bring back Buddhist scriptures in his “Journey to the West.” His village has a big Buddhist temple to honor its famous son.

  Luoyang played a vital role in China’s earliest history. Besides these two earliest of China’s dynasties, several other important dynasties used the city as their capital up until the end of the Tang dynasty, around 900 CE. Located near the south bank of the Yellow River, Luoyang sits in the area where Yu the Great tamed that river’s floods and created conditions that helped spawn Chinese civilization. The area is truly the original source of China’s culture. Through Shaolin Temple and the nearby Longmen Grottos, the place rightfully retains a high profile in the Chinese cultural sphere.

  Luoyang’s place in early Chinese history can hardly be overemphasized. As I explained above, it is where Emperor Xiao Wen of the Wei dynasty lived after moving his capital from Pingcheng in the north. Here, like Emperor Wu, he embraced the metaphysical doctrines about “Buddha nature” and the Bodhisattva ideal. If Nanjing represents the dissemination of Buddhism in South China, Luoyang played the same role in the north. And Luoyang’s connection to Buddhism goes far deeper than Emperor Xiao Wen and the place’s close proximity to Shaolin Temple. The main legend of how Buddhism arrived in China relates that the religion came first to Luoyang during the Han dynasty, around the year 67 CE. At that time, says the legend, the emperor Han Ming established White Horse Temple to house sacred scriptures that two monks brought from India on a white horse. Scholars in China have found evidence that Buddhism had several contacts with China prior to, perhaps even long before, when this legend claims Buddhism was introduced to the country. Nevertheless, Luoyang is still widely regarded as the birthplace of Buddhism in China.

  Arriving at the Luoyang bus station, Shanli and I set off toward the city’s train station just a few blocks away. Shanli’s friend Ronan has arranged to meet us in Luoyang at that location. Shanli has written some accounts of Shaolin Temple’s history, and Ronan has edited Shanli’s work. Ronan came to Luoyang by train this morning from his home in Zhengzhou City to accompany us to Yongning Temple. Happily, we quickly find him waiting for us in front of the train station. Both Shanli and Ronan will return to their homes this evening. After I find a hotel room near the Luo River, we set out by taxi to visit the remains of Yongning Temple. Yongning Temple is reputed to be where Bodhidharma once lived in Luoyang. It is located northeast of the modern city, a place where old Luoyang City stood in ancient times. Emperor Xiao Wen’s palace was there, along with White Horse Temple, where Buddhism is said to have arrived in China.

  After forty-five minutes or so, we pass in front of ancient White Horse temple. Just a mile farther we reach an overpass where an exit sign says REMAINS OF ANCIENT YONGNING TEMPLE. Within sight of the road we see the temple’s ancient foundation amid fields of millet. We follow a dirt road to the temple’s entrance, a stone gate that is in a high protective brick wall. The gate is open, so we drive in and park the taxi. Suddenly a woman appears to greet us. We tell her why we’ve come.

  “‘The temple isn’t open yet,” she says. “Later when it opens, you can come to visit and pay admission to view it.”

  Our taxi driver, who knows that we’ve come from far away, starts arguing with the woman to let us come in. She is hesitant. I tell her I’ve come all the way from the United States and want to see this old temple and that my friends have wanted to come here for many years. She finally relents, and we walk on a stone path leading to the old temple’s foundations. The entire “temple” is little more than a large square block of sod and brick, purportedly its old foundation. The whole edifice is about sixty feet square, with a smaller square of sod and brick sitting atop the first. It leaves a lot to the imagination. I’m extremely suspicious that such a sod and brick remnant was not eroded away long ago. I know that near here there is a good deal of rubble from what used to be the walls of ancient Luoyang City. Those ruins are barely discernable in the landscape. It seems hard to believe that the foundation of this old temple could have remained uniquely intact, even if the location where it sits is accurate (another dubious proposition). A scam? Maybe that’s why the place hasn’t been allowed to open yet. Maybe the authorities do not want to let such an obviously fake “ruin” defraud a gullible public.

  Ancient information about the real Yongning Temple comes from a document called Temples of Luoyang. The text, written only about twenty years after Bodhidharma died, includes a passage that Zen scholars and practitioners have long assumed to be a firsthand account about the author’s meeting with Bodhidharma. Furthermore, the text is the source of the legend that connects White Horse Temple to Buddhism’s appearance in China. Composed around the year 540 by an official named Yang Xuanzhi (pronounced Yang Swan-jer), the document hints at Luoyang’s ancient glory by providing glowing descriptions of the city’s most famous temple landmarks during the period between the years 520 and 527 CE.

  Yang Xuanzhi, the writer of the text, played a key role in Bodhidharma’s legends for various reasons. His Temples of Luoyang is often cited as the earliest impartial historical text that mentions Bodhidharma by name. But later texts, such as the Compendium of Five Lamps, connect Yang Xuanzhi to Bodhidharma in other ways. Such late texts claim that this same man named Yang visited Bodhidharma just before the latter died. So, on the face of it, anything we can glean about Yang’s life may help prove or disprove parts of Bodhidharma’s legend.

  In Temples of Luoyang, Yang Xuanzhi first describes the layout of the imperial palace and its surrounding wall and gates. He then moves on to Yongning Temple, which was located close to the palace and was clearly the grandest of all of the hundreds of temples in Luoyang at that time. The description Yang provides of Yongning Temple is detailed. It includes, for example, a description of the temple’s nine-storied pagoda that stretched ten zhang (about one hundred feet) into the air. The pagoda was ornately decorated with figures of the Buddha, and the roof tiles of the temple, decorated with gold leaf, glistened in the sun. After he describes the temple, Yang tells about meeting a monk named Bodhidharma who was at the place and was marveling at the splendor of the temple. This is the reference that many people, including many scholars, take as an authentic early reference to Bodhidharma. Yang’s account of the monk reads as follows:There was a monk from Western Regions named Bodhidharma. He was a foreigner from Persia. He traveled from distant regions to China. He observed the sun and clouds reflecting from the golden tiles [of the temple], the precious bells pealing far and wide in the wind, and [he] exclaimed that it was a wondrous sight, saying, “I’m
150 years old and have traveled throughout all countries. I’ve seen everything, but the beauty of this temple surpasses anything in the world. Throughout the Buddha realms there is nothing to compare to this!” The monk clasped his hands and chanted namu [homage] for days on end.

  The story purports to show an encounter with the monk that occurred in the mid-520s, before the temple was severely damaged in a windstorm around the year 527. As such it places a monk named Bodhidharma in Luoyang prior to that year. Furthermore, the monk claims to be 150 years old. This text therefore seems to be the source of Daoxuan’s claim about Bodhidharma’s age that appears in the Continued Biographies,

  Yet there are clearly aspects of this story that make it suspicious. The monk named Bodhidharma is described as being from Persia, not from South India, as related in the Continued Biographies. The Southern India origin for Bodhidharma is widely deemed more reliable, since the Continued Biographies says he came to China by sea. If he came directly from Persia, it seems more likely he might have come across the Silk Road. The monk also claims to have traveled throughout the “Buddha realms.” Despite the obvious hyperbole of the statement, it nonetheless seems reasonable to assume that if the monk came from Persia, he did so on a route that passed through the many Buddhist kingdoms of that area. Thus the term “Buddha realms” implies the places in question to be west of Luoyang, not the South Seas.

  It’s critical to note that Yang Xuanzhi authored the Temples of Luoyang more than twenty years after this purported meeting with Bodhidharma took place. This casts their alleged encounter in a suspicious light. Another very odd detail of the account is the manner of the monk’s practice. He is said to have “clasped his hands and chanted namu for days on end.” Frankly, that doesn’t sound like the Bodhidharma that is described in the Continued Biographies. Nowhere in that text are Bodhidharma and his disciples described as continuously chanting namu, a Pure Land Buddhist style of practice. Quite the contrary, he and his disciples are described as devoted to meditation practice.