Magic Precincts: Five Buddhist Temples and How They Grew

by David McCraw

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Preface

OK, so it's 4am or so; you're standing in the back row of a Buddhist temple's main hall somewhere in China. The wooden clapper woke you up 30 minutes ago, a monk's pounding the huge dharma drum like crazy, and still hardly anyone's there. Or maybe it's thronged with older women bowing and praying, pilgrim's bags at their sides—but where are all the temple monks? You're standing there—have you made your 3 bows to the altar yet?—on the cement floor; if it's Spring or Fall on a mountain you might well feel cold; what do you do? What can you expect? Welcome to Buddhist China...

Let's assume you got this far. You found out a temple up in the mountains somewhere; you arrived (later in the day proves tactically astute if you don't know whether you can expect a welcome; always harder to turn away a supplicant/guest when the sun's sinking low), found a sympathetic-looking monk (don't ask the doorman), introduced yourself as a Buddhist lay believer, and asked if you might spend a couple nights. You found a room, hopefully got a thermos or two of boiled water, and acquainted yourself with the temple as best you could. Usually, the front gate or "mountain gate" will face south; proper geomancy prescribes a "root alp" benshan/zuoshan in back and a "facing/blocking alp" anshan in front. Some monasteries will build a stupa to remedy lack of a mountain or to accentuate a small one. Tiantai's Guoqing Temple, for example, has a lovely 1400-year old stupa facing from the south; Lushan's East Grove Temple (Donglin si) has a towering new stupa on the low northern hill behind it. After you enter—famous temples will usually charge an entry fee one time—usually the first main hall will house the protective Four Kings, tutelary guardians of the four directions. If this hall contains a Buddha, more likely than not you'll see a potbellied Maitreya, Mile or "clothbag monk." As the wellworn Chinese saying goes, His

Great belly takes in and holds, takes in all that's hardest to take in the world;
Laughing mouth always parted, laughing at all the laughable folk in the world.

Usually the next building will house the Great Hero's Hall daxiong baodian, most imposing of the temple's structures, though at some larger temples you'll find intervening buildings. At Putuo's Fayu (Dharma Rain) Temple, for example, first you pass through a Jade Buddha Hall, a huge, thronged Nine Dragons Hall, and an Imperial Stela Hall before reaching the Hero's Hall. Inside the Hall you will usually look up to behold the temple's main icon--a huge bronze, stone, or wood image of Shakyamuni, perhaps, or Guanyin if the temple's dedicated to her, or perhaps Amida if you've entered a Pure Land Temple, etc. By the way, few people know this but when you enter the main hall, usually you take either the left or right door, leaving the main door for Buddhas and distinguished guests. If you enter by the left door, proper etiquette demands you lift your left leg over the lintel first, then your right; vice versa if you enter from the right. Follow the same etiquette on leaving, and you may well impress the monks who notice such things. Most temples--certainly all the larger ones--will include more buildings on the main central axis; you may encounter halls for other buddhas/bodhisattvas/ arhats in different numbers (18 or 500, usually), sutra-storing halls, meditation halls, and perhaps the Abbot's Quarters. In wings to left and right, which may face the central court or, in large temples, face front like the Hero's Hall, you will find monks' quarters, dorms for lay Buddhists and perhaps pilgrims, the refectory, a "Guest's Hall," where you will most likely visit first and, perhaps, register, etc. Depending on the number of wings, corridors, and levels--many temples sit on mountains and have many different levels--as well as the vagaries of any one temple's architecture and current state of (re)construction, you may get lost easily. Orient yourself as well and quickly as possible before you have to stumble to morning service in the dark.

Well, now it's pre-dawn, and you wonder about the services; as bells and drums subside, the monks gather, and ceremonies begin. Usual services begin with an incense offering, followed by a number of dharanis from the Surangama Sutra. If you can, get a copy of Fojiao niansong ji or a similar anthology from the temple bookstore; it includes all the usual prayers, dharanis, etc. You will see lay Buddhists carrying these at service; sometimes the younger monks consult it for the longer dharanis (older monks sometimes forget, too, but they tend to fake it rather than lose face). Watch the monks to see when you should drop your hands from prayer position to folded mudra. After what at first seems an eternity--it usually takes about 20 minutes, depending on the temple's recital speed--they will finish with the Heart Sutra, then change pace and tune.Now they chant a benedictory hymn; your prayerbook will include the lines for Amidha; in a temple dedicated to Guanyin, they will sing a hymn to her included farther back in your prayerbook; likewise if the temple's dedicated to Manjusri, Ksitigarbha, Samantabhadra, etc. Then--at last--your sore feet get to circumambulate the temple, reciting the appropriate Buddha's or bodhisattva's name; you'll fall into line after the monks as the last and least of lay believers, often before the pilgrims. As you make the first bend, you drop your hands to folded mudra; this will last a few circuits, until the chant rhythm changes and you lift your hands in prayer again; keep an eye on the monks while maintaining your deep meditative trance, and you'll know when to follow. After returning to your station--with luck, you'll still have one--you kneel and recite a vow, usually Samantabhadra's "Ten Great Vows," then the "3 Refuges." This short, simple prayer you'll find easy to memorize, and it seems worth translating here (you bow on your cushion after each verse):

Take my refuge in the Buddha/ Wishing all living creatures/ May personally realize the great Way/
Sending on sublimest thought.

Take my refuge in the Dharma/ Wishing all living creatures/ Will profoundly penetrate the Scriptures/
Wisdom vast as the sea.

Take my refuge in the Sangha/ Wishing all living creatures/ Will join together as one/
Entirely without hindrance.

Then, after repeating Indra's Daughter's Dharani and a hymn to Weituo (the temple guardian), the monks will make an offering, with another prayer. At this point, usually, you can head for the refectory and eat either with the monks or, depending on arrangements, with the pilgrims. This routine varies when pilgrims have requested a special mass for a loved one, or a general All-souls ("water and land") mass (which may take place over seven days and nights!), or on particular holidays when the temple celebrates one Buddha's birthday, or another's parinirvana, or the ordination of a monk, or a funeral, etc. You can find the relevant liturgies for most of these ceremonies in your prayerbook; ask a friendly monk if something unusual seems to have taken place. Don't worry too much about your inability to memorize great chunks of liturgy; try to learn the short, easy chants, and the monks will appreciate any efforts you make. Unlike some religious ceremonies you may have witnessed in the West, Chinese ceremonies have a certain amount of leeway about personal conduct. Pilgrims may exchange some words and gawk about (but you will maintain deep meditation, or at least appear dignified, if you can); occasionally a monk will hawk and, in respect to the Buddha, lean out the main door before spitting into the dark. Once, while circumambulating, a monk came in from outside and excitedly asked me something. The first time i didn't quite grasp his accent and thought he planned to order me out of the temple, pronto! On repetition, i grasped he only hoped to invite me to a Ksitigarbha mass already in progress, when i had finished the service. No one seemed to mind the interruption; later they let me sit in on the mass, handed me a prayerbook, and let me stumble through the chants.You occasionally see odd phenomena that everyone takes in stride; an altar candle blows out, and the sacrificer spends several minutes repeatedly climbing up and toying with the recalcitrant taper. At Tiantai's Gaoming Temple, i followed right behind the shortest monk i've ever seen--a dwarf less than 3 feet tall. He had quite a good chanting voice--it put me to shame--and i wondered which of us the Chinese saw as the greater oddity. Well, i don't really wonder...nothing you can do about standing out conspicuously in China. Just get a lay Buddhist's cloak or, at least, wear dark unobtrusive clothing and accept their tolerant stares.

Evening service proceeds a lot like morning service, with different chants. Usually, you begin a short expiatory prayer, then a recital of the Amidha Sutra--this may vary by temple--then a series of chants devoted to the evening food offering. These include some elements well-known in Western Buddhism liturgies, such as the "Purification" chant and the "Great Vows." This last (which you'll find on p.57 of Fojiao niansongji) particularly deserves translation:

Living creatures boundless: i vow to save ("ferry") them/ Vexations endless: i vow to cut them off.
Dharma gates innumerable: i vow to learn them/ Buddha's Way unsurpassed: i vow to perfect it.
(The "vexations" by the way refer to the klesas: greed, ill will, and ignorance.)

Next, you'll kneel and recite the Pure Land Dharani, in which you vow to win rebirth in the Blessed Land, followed by Samantabhadra's Admonishment and the now-familiar "3 Refuges." After repeating the "Great Compassion Dharani" from morning service, the ceremony closes with a hymn to the temple and, often, to Guanyin. Unless some special ceremony's taking place, you can now go back to your room. The temple gates, of course, have long gotten shut; they generally close around sunset and will not open until after breakfast.

Other than these services--non-compulsory, by the way--you may have the chance to attend sitting meditation sessions, which usually take place during the afternoon or evening. Timing depends on the monks' schedule; when pilgrim activity reaches a height, when "water and land" masses take place, or at festival times, the monks get quite busy and have little time for formal meditation. If you find yourself denied access to one activity or another, just reflect you're a most fortunate guest here; their willingness to let you stay--usually for a pittance or donation of your choice--you should recognize as a dharma gift. A most useful phrase to remember in China, in temples, and, indeed, anywhere: suiyuan, or "go with your karma." As a Westerner with a chance to see Chinese Buddhism up close, you must have very fortunate karma indeed; no need to push because you hoped to do something the monks find inconvenient or unsuitable. Just shrug and say "sui yuan"; they'll appreciate your proper Buddhist attitude and, quite likely, might compensate by doing something else special for you. If you can, emulate famous poet and lay Buddhist Su Shi (1037-1101), celebrated for his ability to "find peace whatever he encountered" sui yu er an.

Women who stay at nunneries will find that, by and large, nuns' services proceed just like the monks'. Note that, throughout this "Orientation," we have assumed you can speak (and, hopefully, read) some Chinese. If you managed to get this far without speaking Chinese, then you have our undying admiration. However you have gotten here, keep it up!

At some point in your orientation toward Chinese temples, it may occur to you: why have you ended up here? In just the southeastern region we visited this Spring, 2000, Chinese through history have built many thousand temples. Most succumbed; only a few managed to become--at one time or another--the capital of southeastern Chinese Buddhism. What fueled their rise to enduring national prominence? How, and to what extent, have they managed to maintain their preeminence? What magnetic forces lead you--most likely--to one of the five sacred sites examined in these pages? This leads us to consider the past, particularly the textual past, of Chinese Buddhist and literati culture.

The forces propelling these five mountains into prominence seem multifarious and shift over time, but a reading of traditional sources about these temples immediately reveals something important. Writings about the five temple complexes we explore all stress the magic power/efficacy/sacredness/ numinousness ling they exert on the sensitive visitor. What gave these temples ling, and how did that numinous power find expressions and contribute to the eminence of each temple? Read on, as we follow an army of poet, monk, and essayist guides on an armchair tour that takes us from Lingyin si near Hangzhou, to Putuoshan in the Zhoushan Islands off Ningbo, to Tiantai (Heavenly Terrace) in the central Zhejiang alps, to Jiuhuashan (Nine-flower Mountain) in southern Anhui, and finally to Lushan near the confluence of the Yangzi and Lake Boyang, in northern Jiangxi.

Thus, this book argues you must plumb some of China's deep past in order to understand why you stand where you do today. Though most Buddhist meditation focusses on here and now, hoping to stand "at the still point of the turning world," you will need to take T.S. Eliot's message from "Four Quartets" as a whole. Eliot wrote: "Only through time is time conquered." He saw present moments as points "where past and future are gathered" and continued:

The world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated
Of dead and living. Not the intense moment
Isolated, with no before and after,
But a lifetime burning in every moment
And not the lifetime of one man only
But of old stones that cannot be deciphered.
Let's see together what we can decipher of those old stones before your eyes and under your feet.

Note about pronouns and provenance. This trip began as a suggestion by my learned friend Garrick Flint, entrepreneur and connoisseur, bon vivant and Buddhist layman, to explore some southeastern Buddhist sites. We toured Lushan together for a few days and, as Gary's business interests gradually drove him in a different direction, we began pursuing separate adventures at Jiuhua Mt. Then business forced him back to the US, and the trip took yet another, solo tack. Hence, this account sometimes refers to "we" as the two of us travelling; sometimes it uses "we" for judgments that most Sinologists would probably share; elsewhere it refers to singular experiences and judgments with "i." Just so you don't find it confusing...

Also, it seems worthwhile to note that this book oscillates from the Sinological to the personal, much as it swivels from "we" to "i." Most of the lore and heritage of these temples exists on paper and involves Sinology; we have decided to softpedal scholarly baggage, minimize footnotes, and abbreviate quick references in the body of the text. Serious Sinologists will find all sources mentioned at the end of the book. We hope, indeed, that this guide will prove helpful to three kinds of readers: to Sinologists with an interest in what made these temples preeminent in the history of Southeastern Chinese Buddhism; to travellers who plan to visit these sites and who want some cultural background that will enrich their visit; and to armchair travellers with interests in Buddhism and/or the southeast of China. May each type of reader find something of value in these heterogenous pages!

Fahang - encountering a hermit monk on a Buddhist sacred mountain

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