The Illusion of Practice

This is a record of an interview with Zhang Qingzong, who sought Chao Du at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. This account reflects upon his life as a monk approximately 2,000 years ago and his subsequent service as a prison guard in the underworld. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa, on January 24, 2021.

Zhang Qingzong speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. From the time I was a small child, my parents taught me the principles of being a good person and the proper attitude toward life and society. They taught me to do good and to be good, which ensured that my entire life’s perspective remained positive. I never committed any evil acts; in fact, I frequently encouraged others to cultivate goodness. Today, I am deeply grateful for this opportunity to be reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. I thank Practitioner Su and the Causal Conditions that have brought me here. I, Zhang Qingzong, bow in gratitude to the Buddha and to Practitioner Su for granting me this chance for rebirth."

A Childhood of Virtue and Purpose

"I was born on a beautiful, sunny afternoon. My mother nearly lost her life during my birth, and though she was saved, she was left unable to have more children. She was a woman of such profound wisdom and virtue that she even suggested my father take another wife to ensure the family line continued. Many people praised her for this, but my father had no such desire. He wished only to care for my mother and me; he had no other thoughts in his heart.

From the moment I was born, my father placed great importance on me. He was incredibly diligent in my upbringing and education, hoping only that I would grow to be a good man. My parents did not ask for much; they only wanted me to be an upright person with a kind heart, someone who knew how to help others. That was enough to satisfy them. I was born over two thousand years ago into a very wealthy family. To educate me, my parents often took me on travels, showing me the many facets of human life, including the suffering of birth, aging, sickness, and death. Every year, they would take me to a temple to experience monastic life for a few days, hoping to help me cultivate my character. At the age of fourteen, I decided to renounce the worldly life. I vowed to dedicate my entire life to alleviating the suffering of beings and teaching them how to leave suffering behind and gain happiness."

The Burden of Legacy and the Temple

"After I renounced the world, I followed my master, living a life of wandering. Over the next ten years, I gained a deeper understanding of life. However, my parents suddenly fell gravely ill. I asked my master for leave and returned home to care for them. I spent about three years by their side until they passed away one after the other. During those three years, I cared for them with all my heart, and it gave me many profound insights: if one does not learn the Buddha’s teachings and practise, then when that final breath comes, everything is lost!

After my parents passed, I returned to the temple. They had left behind a vast inheritance, and I used every cent of it to build a new temple, planting one final seed of merit for them. It took ten years to complete. When it was finished, I became the first abbot. Many of my fellow monks were jealous and refused to associate with me, slowly drifting away. Even without their help, I persevered and managed the temple on my own.

The temple was not large, but through hard work, I began daily Dharma talks. At first, I taught simple, easy-to-understand life principles, guiding the public toward a positive outlook. I also taught the children the same values my parents had instilled in me, hoping that everyone could receive the benefits of the Dharma. Time flew by, and after decades of teaching, the number of people attending grew from a handful to nearly a hundred. I was always grateful for the Buddha’s compassionate blessings, which allowed the temple to successfully deliver sentient beings."

The Descent into Dementia

"When I was thirty, I took in four disciples. I poured so much effort into teaching them, refining every detail of their conduct and their mental notes. I did not allow jealousy or comparison between them; I gave each one their own responsibilities, encouraging them to support one another and grow individually. By the time I was fifty, I handed the temple over to them to manage together. I did not have many disciples in my life, as I believed the quality of teaching was far more important than the quantity of students. Focusing on the root nature of each disciple and nurturing them carefully—that was what I considered most important.

After handing over the temple, I dedicated myself entirely to teaching. I held two sessions of sutra chanting every day, and I spent the rest of my time in seclusion, adjusting and elevating myself. But when I reached the age of eighty, I unexpectedly fell ill with a form of madness. I often could not remember people, and sometimes I would do things that were completely irrational. My disciples had no choice but to confine me to a meditation room and care for me. In modern times, this is known as dementia.

My four disciples took excellent care of me. Before my life ended, they managed my daily needs with great devotion, taking turns to clean me and handle my bodily waste. Even though I suffered from this illness, whenever I regained clarity, I would feel immense sadness. I did not understand why I had fallen into such a state, and I felt terrible for being such a burden to my disciples. Gradually, my heart accumulated so much negative emotion that I lost the ability to master my own mind, and I ultimately chose to end my own life."

The Final Choice and the Underworld Judgment

"Before I left, I wrote a suicide note, telling my disciples not to make my death public, because such a result for a practitioner would shake the public’s faith in Buddhism. After I passed, I entered a void of darkness. Within that darkness, I was forced to relive the moment of my death over and over again. Every day, at the same time, I experienced the same process—it was agonizing. Finally, it was the recitation of 'Namo Amituofo' that unlocked the space of my retribution. After escaping that space, I fell into the hells. The Yama King judged me and asked, 'In this life, do you know why you had to suffer such an end?' I told him, 'I still do not understand, but I hold no resentment. I just do not understand why I ended up this way.' The Yama King smiled and said, 'If you had no resentment, why would you choose to take your own life? And after taking your own life, you suffered even more painful retribution.' His words struck me like a lightning bolt, and I woke up as if from a dream. 'Yes! My heart did indeed harbor resentment, which accumulated into depression until I could no longer bear it and chose to end it all. Truly, I am ashamed!'

I wept and openly repented before the Yama King. I told him, 'I was wrong! I failed the test of the physical form at the end of my life, and I destroyed the Dharma.' I cried until I could no longer speak. After a long time, the Yama King finally spoke: 'Practising in the human world is never easy. But looking at your life, you did have merit and labor. The disciples you raised managed the temple well, and the Dharma you operated did indeed save many people. Now, let us look at the cause and effect—why did you suffer from this illness at the end?' The Yama King revealed the process of my life, and everything became clear. I finally understood why my practice ended this way: I had not awakened to my true nature; there was still too much of 'myself' within me. Furthermore, I had not performed Chao Du. There were still karmic creditors from past lives within me, and because I still had various habits, they found me when my energy faded in old age. In the Yama King’s mirror, I saw another scene: many of the beings I had 'saved' had entered my body. Because I had used so much of my own thinking to try to help them, those thoughts were not from my true nature—they were lines and hooks that allowed those beings to find me."

Awakening to the Truth of Practice

"Without the Yama King’s mirror to help me review, I would never have understood where my life had gone wrong. I am deeply grateful to him for showing me all of this. During the time I was ill, I experienced great setbacks and lost my self-respect. From that experience, it is clear that I still had a mind of gain and loss. These were the areas where my practice was insufficient. I sincerely repent for this life and truly understand my faults.

The Yama King smiled and said, 'As expected, a practitioner has more wisdom. Seeing that you accumulated much merit in your life and served beings with a sincere heart, I will grant you an opportunity to serve. You shall act as a prison guard before the hall, assisting in the judgment of cases, while waiting for the opportunity for liberation.' I thanked the Yama King, feeling grateful for this chance.

After serving as a prison guard for nearly a thousand years, I finally heard Practitioner Su giving Dharma talks. My heart felt immense joy, and I have been listening diligently every day, adjusting myself. I am grateful for Practitioner Su’s clear and transparent explanation of the sutras, which allowed me to see my inner errors even more clearly. I am willing to follow Practitioner Su’s teachings and learn from the basics. I am so thankful for this magnificent opportunity to practise again.

I am grateful for this moment. On behalf of the prison guards who attained rebirth today, and all sentient beings, I bow in gratitude to the Buddha’s grace and to the compassionate Ultimate Vow of Practitioner Su. The Buddha’s teachings are vast and boundless. Endless gratitude. Namo Amituofo."