The Karmic Debt of a Healing Path

This is a record of an interview with Shao Mingdan, 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 approximately 520 years ago. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa Jing, on December 12, 2019.

Shao Mingdan speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Shao Mingdan. Outside our home, the thunder rumbled—'Boom! Boom!'—as my mother neared the end of her labour. My father, smiling, said to her, 'Look! The thunder never ceases; surely this child will be as mighty and imposing as the God of Thunder!' For ten months, they had awaited my arrival. When the moment finally came, my father’s smile only grew brighter. He was about to meet his first child; he was about to become a father for the first time.

A Tragic Beginning

The midwife held me and let out a cry of horror. My mother, confused, asked, 'What has happened?' When the midwife showed me to her, my mother was stunned into silence. She asked, 'Why is he like this?' The midwife could only shake her head, 'I do not know. He was like this the moment he was born.' Seeing the raw, festering flesh on my legs, my mother burst into tears. My father entered the room, excited to hold me, but when he saw my legs, he was struck dumb. He looked at my mother, who could only weep, unable to speak a word.

From the day I was born, 'ointments' became my constant companions. My mother sought out every famous physician in every town. They prescribed everything from common salves to rare, precious ingredients—some so expensive they could have purchased a fine horse—yet nothing could heal me. The skin on my legs constantly oozed fluid and pus; it was a mass of raw, mangled flesh. It was a terrifying sight. I cried incessantly from the pain. Since my birth, our home had known no peace; it was shrouded in a thick, suffocating gloom.

The Weight of Ancestral Karma

Many in the town whispered, 'What evil did the ancestors of the Shao family commit to produce such a descendant?' Others said, 'Perhaps this child carries innate karma, destined to suffer in this world.' My condition was known to everyone in town, as my parents travelled everywhere in search of a cure, desperate to save me from even one more day of agony.

At such a tender age, my body could not withstand the barrage of medications applied to my skin. One night, my lips turned black, and my body began to exhibit strange, alarming symptoms. My mother rushed me to a doctor in a panic, and only through his urgent intervention did I survive. From that day on, my parents dared not experiment with strange medicines, fearing I would be poisoned again.

The Turning Point: Awakening to Cause and Effect

When I was three, my condition miraculously began to improve. Even my parents found it inconceivable. This change did not happen without cause; my parents had followed the advice of an elder and taken me to a temple to see the Buddha. Under the Buddha’s compassionate blessing, my skin began to show signs of healing. When my father uncovered my legs to show the temple master, he expected the usual look of shock or horror. Instead, the master’s expression remained unchanged. He asked my father, 'What is your profession?' My father replied, 'I sell minced meat. I buy pork, mince it, and sell it to customers by the catty.'

The master nodded and said, 'This child has been repaying a debt since birth. This trade seems ordinary, but you have been creating karma without knowing it. All beings have spirits, and the karma of killing and selling meat is difficult to withstand. You must repent and change your ways.' My father was astonished. He had never imagined that the illness I was born with was linked to his selling of minced meat! My mother immediately told him, 'Stop! Stop doing it! We haven't earned much money, and you’ve made our child sick. Look at all the money you’ve earned in your life—it’s all been spent on his ointments! We have only one precious son; do not gamble with his life.' My father listened to the master, closed his stall, and donated merit money to perform Chao Du for the pigs he had harmed. As he did this, the festering on my legs stopped as if by magic. The demands of karma are truly real; my parents had no choice but to believe.

A Foundation of Faith

My illness became the supporting condition for my study of the Buddha’s teachings. My parents, who had previously not believed in the Buddha, began to encounter the Dharma because of my condition. Whenever they had time, they brought me to the temple to pay respects. If they saw a Dharma banner hanging outside, they would bring me in to listen to the sutras. Even though my small body could not yet understand the teachings, my spirit and the karmic creditors following me heard every word clearly. Through repeated listening, they finally became willing to let go of their pursuit, allowing my skin to recover rapidly.

At five, I finally learned to walk. It was the first time I stepped on this earth with my own feet. Because I had never used them, my legs were somewhat atrophied and deformed. I walked unsteadily, often falling when my strength failed, so I had to walk and rest, walk and rest. Having battled illness since birth, I had developed a strong will and a firm heart. Even in pain, I did not give up; I continued to move forward.

Propagating the Dharma

After my father stopped selling pork, he took on a very meaningful job: propagating the Buddha’s teachings. He sold the ancestral property and lived off the proceeds, dedicating his time to spreading the Dharma. Both my parents felt this was far more meaningful than sweating for money. Although the property was meant to be passed down, my father no longer held onto the concept of inheritance. He understood clearly what samsara was; if these assets were not used to help his descendants escape the six realms, then no matter how much he left behind, he would only be pushing them into the fire pit of rebirth.

When I was seven, a strange, contagious disease swept through the town. The bustling streets became deserted. Fearing infection, everyone locked their doors, not daring to step outside. Only my father and I moved through the streets, rescuing the sick cats and dogs we found. Any creature with blood—human or animal—could be infected. The most obvious symptom was the festering of the skin, just like my legs when I was young. Many began to slander the Dharma, calling me a demon and claiming that the teachings we studied were demonic paths.

The Mirror of the Mind

My father and I did not explain ourselves to the townspeople; we remained silent. We did not want to cause them to create more karma through gossip. Besides, they were suffering, and no explanation would reach them; it would only lead to more slander. My father and I chanted Namo Amituofo and recited the sutras daily, dedicating all merit to the townspeople, hoping that under the Buddha’s blessing, they would soon leave suffering behind.

Fewer and fewer people came to the temple. Those who used to follow my father to hear the Dharma had vanished. I saw my father kneeling before the Buddha, looking lost, blaming himself for the townspeople’s suffering and their slander of the Dharma. The temple master approached him and said, 'When adversity manifests, if your heart is good, the situation will naturally turn good. If your heart is bad, the situation will turn bad. It is like placing a large mirror before you. If you look at this mirror with righteous thoughts, you will see yourself as beautiful. If you look with evil thoughts or strange ideas, the reflection will naturally become ugly. The environment changes according to the mind, and the mind can change the environment. Look at that century-old tree outside; even when the wind blows, its trunk remains unmoved. It has been like that for a hundred years, which is why it still stands today, chanting along with our daily recitations. Now, a little wind and grass make your heart float and unable to settle. If you think of the bad, you will naturally become discouraged. Your heart moves with the environment, like grass blown flat by a strong wind. Only by being like the tree trunk can you remain stable, truly having faith without doubt, and not being turned by the environment.' My father listened, and though it was a simple analogy, he saw that his heart was still swaying like tender grass. He realised that despite studying the Dharma for years, it had not yet truly entered his heart.

The Power of a Single Buddha-Name

A monk from a mountain temple travelled a great distance to teach, but still, no one would listen. On the third day, a woman finally sat before him. She made an offering to show her respect and support for the Three Jewels. She said, 'I have come from afar, walking for two days. Today, I offer all the savings of my life. I am willing to give everything I have to the Dharma because my life is at its end, and I have only just heard this precious teaching. I no longer cherish this wealth that is too heavy for my body to carry. All the wealth I gained through petty calculation has only brought me a body full of illness. Now, I offer all my wealth in exchange for a clean body and mind. I beg you, Master, to teach me, so that when my life ends, I may attain ultimate liberation.' After she finished, she sat respectfully and listened. After one session, she knelt and wept bitterly. A passerby, curious, hid behind a large rock to see what was happening. The monk told the woman, 'Awaken now, and seek rebirth in the Pure Land. What you cannot let go of is this body. This body has birth and death; birth and death pass in an instant. Where is that which you cannot let go of?' The woman wept, 'I have committed many evils for the sake of emotion and wealth, calculating every step. I became ill and blamed heaven and others. Now, having heard the Dharma, I know how evil my heart was. What I cannot let go of is my own sin; I deserve to die!' The monk told her, 'A single Buddha-name can extinguish the grave sins of eighty billion kalpas of birth and death. But if the heart of chanting is mixed, even if you are chanting about your past mistakes, the Buddha-name is not pure. How can sentient beings obtain the benefits of merit from this? Why not let go of the past, dwell in the present, and chant in the state of no-thought, continuously and without interruption?'

The woman understood. She stopped crying, wiped her tears, knelt towards the West, bowed three times, sat upright, purified her heart, and chanted continuously without distraction. The townsperson hiding behind the rock saw with his own eyes that the woman’s body began to glow, and then, the Buddha’s light appeared. Her spirit left her body and followed the Buddha, leaving behind the scent of lotus flowers. The townsperson was dumbfounded and immediately told the others. They could not believe it. Several sick townspeople, wrapped in cloth, sat at a distance to listen. They were filled with Dharma-joy. One asked the monk, 'Our disease is contagious; are you not afraid?' The monk replied, 'To save one person to become a Buddha, sacrificing my false body is enough.' Another sick person wanted to test if the monk was sincere. He unwrapped his cloth and walked up to the monk to see if he would be afraid. The monk looked at the sores, stood up, walked to the man, and not only sucked the pus from the wounds with his mouth but also taught the Dharma to the spirits within the man, urging them to chant and seek rebirth in the West. The man chanted along with the monk, and the pain in his sores eased. He witnessed the miracle of chanting—it is truly a great Dharma for saving lives.

Sacrifice for the Sake of All

When the townspeople understood the magnificence of the Dharma and realised the oral karma they had created by slandering it, they knelt to repent to the Buddha and apologised to my father and me. We were overjoyed to see them willing to believe, and we actively invited them to chant. The Dharma began to spread throughout the town. Many elderly people who thought their lives would end in waiting for death found a new goal. Although they could not yet focus perfectly, they knew how to chant, and they no longer waited in misery for the end.

My father encouraged me to go into the mountains to practice when I was ten. He said, 'Since you know the value of the Dharma, why not sacrifice yourself for the sake of all?' I thought, 'Father is right. If not for the Dharma, I would not be standing on my own two feet today. If not for the Dharma, the epidemic would not have ended so quickly. More importantly, for the many suffering beings before us, only the Dharma can help them detach from their pain. To let more beings hear the Dharma and benefit, I am willing to go into the mountains to practice.'

The Discipline of the Mountains

In the temple, the deep, melodious bell rang. Hearing it, I made a profound vow. The sound of the bell knocked on my heart, just as it knocks on the awakening hearts of sentient beings lost in the boundless sea of suffering. I vowed that only by awakening myself could I awaken others. I wished for all beings to wake from their delusions and seek the path to leave suffering behind. When the bell rings, one should know to stay away from all worries, break through the dust of the world, escape the pain of burning like fire, and vow to chant and seek rebirth in the Pure Land.

I practiced according to the rules in the temple. In the forest, there was only pure chanting without impurity. Every morning, the bell and drum would ring, their sounds echoing through the mountains, shaking awake boundless spirits, letting them know the suffering of birth and death, and wishing them to leave the six realms, to have righteous thoughts and never enter evil paths again, to cut off worldly desires, and to purify the pollution of the six dusts. To ensure I was diligent every moment, every night before bed, I placed a bucket of water outside. Every morning, when I woke up, the water was frozen with frost. Before my head was clear, I would put my hands into the icy water. The cold would wake my whole body. Then, I would scoop the icy water and pour it over my head. My head would instantly clear, my eyes would become bright and sharp, and I would maintain a state of clarity, not allowing drowsiness to invade and hinder my practice.

Returning to the Source

In the deep mountains, food was not easy to obtain. I learned to grow vegetables from my fellow practitioners, clearing a large piece of land to provide food for the monastics. Seeing these vegetables grow from seedlings, nourished by air, water, and sunlight, and then being harvested, I realised that everything is originally empty. If one can return to the original purity, at the moment of emptiness, one sees the original nature.

I placed a cup of clean water in the dust; within a day, the surface was covered in a layer of grey. I observed the dust in my own heart—layers piled up over many lifetimes. Originally, there was no mind; the 'mind' is something acquired later. In the original 'nothingness,' where could this dust come from? It is like this cup of water; there was nothing on the table. If there were no cup and no water, where would the dust on the water be? It is because it was originally nothing.

A Reunion Across Time

Day by day, my pure heart allowed me to see the past and future. It turned out that my lay father was a fellow practitioner from a past life. After many cycles of suffering in samsara, we met again in this life. I vowed to come to this world; although the past has become empty, the causal conditions still pull us together. Our relationship started anew, changing my fellow practitioner into my father, and me into his son. In this life, I tasted the suffering of a rotting body to save him, so he would not create more sins. Fortunately, he still had a compassionate heart and immediately stopped evil and practiced good. Now, we both practice in the Buddha’s gate, each diligent and unremitting, both aiming for the Buddha’s gate, not wasting the vow that brought us back to this life, to return to the Western Land together and see Namo Amituofo again.

The Buddha’s Light Across Space

In a world of frozen dust, time traces back hundreds of millions of years. Glaciers stopped flowing, and the ocean froze in an instant, covered in ice and snow. All things were still sleeping. It seemed there was no space for movement, but time was still turning. These beings covered by thick ice were boundless and countless, still in space. Many white ice spirits were among them, still jumping in space, not knowing that hundreds of millions of years had passed. The Dharma Body of Practitioner Su performs Chao Du for endless spaces. One layer of space is this glacial period. The Buddha’s light shines across the earth, the ice melts, and the glaciers begin to flow slowly. The beings under the ice begin to swim with the glaciers. Many uniquely shaped fish leap up. Large areas of the ice sea melt, the sea level rises, and a large number of marine creatures are still in the space before freezing. A single Buddha-name awakens these spirits in space. Icebergs that have not yet piled high begin to melt, and the flowers, plants, and trees within them wake up. Those with the affinity to be saved follow the Buddha’s light, leaving this space from hundreds of millions of years ago. Those who do not wish to leave still stay in space, but the Buddha’s light comes every day, waiting for those who wish to be saved to chant a Buddha-name and follow the Buddha away.

Within the time of Practitioner Su’s Chao Du, there are boundless and countless other spaces being saved. One layer is a bit later than the glacial period, about two or three hundred million years ago. At that time, there were many large reptiles, like dinosaurs, in that space. Some flew in the sky, most crawled on the ground, and some swam in the sea. They were all very large. They had not left that space. The herbivores ate grass, and the carnivores ate the smaller ones. The spirit within them matched their appearance and habits. Like a carnivorous Tyrannosaurus, when Practitioner Su removed its dinosaur 'coat,' the spirit inside appeared quite violent, like a bully in modern society; most were very irritable. The gentler dinosaurs had milder spirits. But regardless of the type, if there were no Buddha’s light to shine on them and open the space from thousands or even hundreds of millions of years ago, they would still be dinosaurs, unable to escape, simply because they entered that space and could not get out.

Practitioner Su’s Dharma Body performs Chao Du for endless layers of space. The spaces of the Earth are uncountable, and there are even more endless spaces in the universe, boundless planets, and countless levels of space—all immeasurable and uncountable. Every day, they are gradually being saved. The suffering spirits who have wandered for a long time, if not for the salvation of Practitioner Su’s Dharma Body, would have to wait for trillions of years or even longer. Many spirits who wake up under the Buddha’s light are eager to join the ranks of those being saved. They already know how to leave suffering behind. Many who have not yet woken up or do not understand how to seek salvation are still wandering in space, not knowing the Buddha has arrived. Some are still attached to the spaces they love and do not wish to leave. Regardless, Practitioner Su still compassionately performs Chao Du every day, helping those who wish to leave to escape suffering as soon as possible.

I am grateful for Practitioner Su’s compassionate salvation.

Namo Amituofo.

The interview message was written by the Buddhist disciple Shi Fa Jing.