The Inconceivable Nature of the Dharma

This is a record of an interview with Chande, who sought Chao Du at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Land of Dharma Nature. This account reflects upon his life approximately 1,600 years ago. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa, on December 27, 2019.

Venerable Chande speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Chande. That is my Dharma name; my secular name was Yuandong, of the He family. I was born into a poor, rural household. My arrival brought both joy and sorrow to my family. My father, mother, and grandmother lived together in poverty, yet my grandmother was adamant: 'The He family bloodline must not be broken. Even if we live in the deepest destitution, we must have a child to carry on the family name.' My parents had not originally intended to have children, but under my grandmother's persistent counseling, they felt compelled to leave an heir for the family. They tried their best to conceive, hoping to put my grandmother's heart at ease. Strangely, for ten years after their marriage, they remained childless.

My mother eventually spoke to my father: 'Every day you go to the river to catch those fish to sell. You don't make much money, and you are creating such heavy karma through killing. Why not stop? Perhaps if you change your profession, a child will finally come.' My grandmother also urged him: 'I still have a little bit of savings. Use this money to start a small business instead. Please, stop the killing. We simply cannot afford the weight of such sins.' After days of contemplation, my father finally decided to change his path. He ended his work as a fisherman and used my grandmother's savings to open a small noodle stall on the street. Although business was slow at first and he could not even recoup his initial investment, my father never allowed himself to be troubled. In his philosophy of life, there were only two words: 'look forward.' Even when life was impoverished and difficult, and his circumstances were dire, he could always wear a smile. Because his heart only focused on the good, he naturally faced everything with a cheerful countenance, never giving rise to worries or afflictions.

A Karmic Debt and a Change of Heart

Regarding the matter of having a child, my father was not anxious at all. He believed in the Law of Cause, Condition, and Effect, trusting that what was meant to be would come, and what was not meant for him did not need to be forced. In the second year after he changed his profession, my mother became pregnant with me. By then, the noodle stall's business had stabilised, and we had several regular customers. Through word of mouth, more and more people came to taste my father's cooking. The day my father returned home to the news of my mother's pregnancy, my grandmother was so overjoyed that she prepared a lavish feast to celebrate. The entire family waited for my birth with immense anticipation and happiness.

However, the day I was born, the whole family was shocked. Although my limbs were sound, my lips were shaped in a most peculiar way—they looked exactly like a fish's mouth. If one looked closely, I truly resembled a fish. Upon seeing my appearance, my grandmother sighed deeply and said, 'The karma created in the past must be repaid.' My father was filled with profound repenting: 'In my ignorance, I thought that selling fish was not stealing or robbing, and that I was earning money through my own blood and sweat. I never imagined that the karma of killing was so severe that it would manifest in my own child, coming to collect a debt in this lifetime.' My father held me tightly in his arms, and I could feel the depth of his repenting heart.

The Burden of Appearance

Under the meticulous care of my family, I grew up safely. By the time I was four years old, my family became increasingly concerned. My mother asked my father and grandmother, 'Yuandong is already four years old; why can he still not speak?' My grandmother grew more worried, and after spending money to have a physician examine me, they discovered that I was a mute child. Because I was not attractive and could not speak, many children did not like to play with me. They would constantly mock me for my appearance and my disability. No matter where I went in the village, I could hear them whispering and laughing behind my back.

One day, I felt truly devastated. It was not because they mocked me, but because they said insulting things about my parents. That time, I was truly angry. I could not speak to express my feelings, but they saw my face flush red and knew I was furious, which only made them more excited. Finally, I stomped my feet in frustration and ran away to the riverbank to throw stones. By dusk, I was still sitting by the river, watching the scenery, unaware that my parents were searching for me everywhere. When I returned home, my parents hugged me tightly, asking, 'Where did you go? We couldn't find you anywhere; do you know how worried we were?' I shed tears of sorrow, and when they asked what had happened, I told them everything—the mockery I had endured and the insults directed at them.

Lessons from a Mother's Heart

After listening, my mother took my hand and said, 'A beautiful heart is far more important than a beautiful face. Appearance is merely a product of human discriminations, but the goodness of the heart is something everyone can feel. We must learn to be tolerant and forgiving. We must learn to harbour no evil thoughts or evil views. Others may not like us, but we must not dislike them. The more someone dislikes us, the more we should look for their good qualities. Others may criticise us, but we should receive it with a joyful heart, for they are teaching us. If we give rise to hatred, we not only harm ourselves but also cause the other person to create karma.' I asked my mother, 'How do you know these things?'

My mother told me, 'A long time ago, a monk came to our home to beg for alms. We were so poor we had nothing, but I truly wanted to make an offering, so I picked some unripe, sour fruit from our garden. The neighbours watching from outside laughed, saying, "Who would offer unripe, sour fruit to a monk? Isn't that showing disrespect?" The monk accepted the fruit, and right in front of me, he ate it. He ate until only the pit remained, then finished the remaining flesh on the pit and even sucked the juice from it. His expression never changed; he did not frown even once. I asked him, "Watching you eat, it seems as if it were delicious, not like eating sour, unripe fruit at all." The monk replied, "This fruit has become sweet because of the donor's sincere heart." I looked at him in confusion, and he compassionately taught me about this "heart." It was then I realised that the truth, goodness, and beauty of the human heart are so important, and that one's entire destiny is mastered by this heart.'

My mother used this wisdom to teach me. She taught me to have a good heart, to not see the faults of others, and to use compassion and mind-capacity to transform all mocking words into kind ones, so as not to let others create karma. After hearing my mother's words, I no longer felt angry when people teased me or said hurtful things. I had learned tolerance, mind-capacity, and compassion. Only when my heart remains unmoved can I resolve all conflicts. My appearance is not pleasing because I did not accumulate enough virtue in the past, but I do not feel sorrow. In this lifetime, I strive even harder to do good. I do not do this to greedily seek a better appearance in the future, but because I understand the preciousness of the human body. This body can be used to do good or to create evil. Why not seize the opportunity while I have this human body to do more good, so that at the very least, those around me may benefit from my help?

The Quest for the Lingzhi

When I was thirteen, my mother fell gravely ill. My father spent all the savings from the noodle stall on her medical care, but no matter how many prescriptions she took, she did not improve. She coughed incessantly, lying on her bed, hovering between life and death. My father and I searched everywhere for a cure. No matter the cost, we had to find a way to save her! I heard that somewhere on that jagged mountain, a thousand-year-old lingzhi mushroom grew. If my mother could consume it, her life could be extended. However, many people had climbed that mountain to search for it, but no one could find it. Some said it was just a legend; others said the lingzhi was waiting for someone with the right karmic affinity. I did not care what the truth was; as long as there was a glimmer of hope to save my mother, I had to seize it! I decided to climb that mountain. No matter how arduous the journey, I had to go and find that lingzhi to save my mother's life!"

The mountain was incredibly steep, a place where ordinary people would never venture. Everyone who entered this mountain did so for one reason: to seek the lingzhi. Even though the path was treacherous and my straw sandals were worn to shreds, I dared not stop. My mother’s life was in peril; I could not simply give up. The lingzhi was my final glimmer of hope! I had to find it! As I reached the halfway point, a sudden, torrential downpour turned the mountain path into a slick, dangerous trap. I walked along a narrow ledge, slipping and nearly plummeting into the abyss several times. When I finally scrambled to the summit, I searched frantically, scanning every dark, damp crevice where a lingzhi might grow, but there was nothing. I sat on the edge of the cliff in despair, gazing at the towering peaks across the valley, when suddenly, I looked down into the gorge! There it was—shimmering with a faint light! It was growing right on the sheer cliff face. To reach it, I would have to climb down the vertical rock wall.

The Perilous Climb and the Miracle of the Lingzhi

The cliff was terrifyingly steep; one wrong move would send me falling into the bottomless darkness of the valley below. How could I possibly retrieve it? Time was running out, and for the sake of my mother, I was willing to sacrifice my own life! I began to descend, my entire body drenched in cold sweat from the tension. When I finally reached the lingzhi and grabbed it, it wouldn't budge! My feet were barely finding purchase on the rock face, and I had no leverage. If I pulled too hard, I would lose my balance and fall backward into the void. With no other options, I began to plead with the spiritual lingzhi, begging it to allow me to take it home to save my mother. As I prayed with a sincere heart, a miracle occurred. A surge of immense energy flowed through my hand. I was stunned, shocked, and then, with the slightest effort, the lingzhi—which had been immovable moments before—came free! I didn't know how this was possible; it was nothing short of a divine miracle! I quickly tucked the lingzhi into my sleeve and began the arduous climb back up. But when I reached the top and reached into my sleeve to check on it, I felt nothing! I thought it must have fallen back into the valley during the climb. I threw myself to the edge of the cliff and peered down, but there was nothing to be seen! My heart was a storm of conflicting emotions. I wondered, 'What is happening?'

The Old Man on the Rock

Just as I was burning with anxiety, a voice suddenly asked, 'Are you looking for the lingzhi?' I turned around to see an old man with a long white beard, wearing a bamboo hat and a straw cape, sitting on a large boulder. His eyes were closed, and he did not look up at me. I was mute and could not speak, so I tried to communicate through my mental notes. To my surprise, the old man could read my thoughts! I told him, 'Yes! I was looking for the lingzhi! I had it in my sleeve, but now it is gone! Did you see it?' The old man nodded and said, 'I understand this lingzhi. It is not something that can be taken easily. It is an ancient lingzhi that has been practicing for a thousand years, absorbing the essence of the sun and moon and nourished by the precious dew of the high mountains. It possesses magical efficacy and energy; it is not meant for ordinary people! When you first tried to pull it, your heart was truly set on saving your mother. That filial piety moved the lingzhi, which is why it allowed you to take it. But as you placed it in your sleeve and began to climb, your mental state shifted. This subtle change, which even you did not notice, was what we call

"From that day on, I practised diligent chanting of Namo Amituofo every single day without interruption. I held no wandering thoughts; my mind was purely and solely focused on the Buddha-name. Many times, while I was chanting, the venomous snake would coil its body around me, often making it difficult for me to breathe, yet I remained steadfast, keeping my heart pure and continuing to chant. Then, while I was sleeping, the snake bit my leg. I felt the venom racing rapidly through my bloodstream, but I did not stop chanting. I thought to myself, 'If it is truly my time to die, I am willing to chant and seek rebirth. But if the Buddha’s vow allows me to live, I will dedicate this life to saving beings in the human world.'"

A Miraculous Recovery and the Test of Three Years

"Just as the venom was about to reach my heart, a golden light shone upon me. My blood felt as if it were boiling like scalding water, and then I vomited a mouthful of black blood. The venom was expelled from my body, and I returned to my normal state. I continued to chant, my heart completely unmoved. For three years, every day was the same; I sat in the ruins, chanting, living alongside that venomous snake. The snake tested my heart many times, but my heart had already entered samadhi through chanting. Even when it sought to take my life, I did not waver from my meditative concentration.

Three years later, when I looked closely at the snake, I was struck by the inconceivable nature of the Buddha’s teachings! Although I had not been able to chant the Buddha-name aloud, the snake had been transformed day by day by the power of the Buddha through my inner chanting. Now, it was no longer a venomous snake. There was no more poison in its blood; its body had become crystalline and transparent. Within the resonance of a single Buddha-name, it shed its snake form and was reborn into another realm. Once the snake was saved by the Dharma, I noticed a change within myself. At that moment, a thief, acting wildly, hid in the ruins and threatened me, saying, 'If anyone comes chasing after me, do not say I am here, or I will take your life!' I saw that the thief’s heart was not truly evil, so I very naturally began to teach him the Dharma. Although I had never studied the sutras, during those three years of pure practice, my wisdom had blossomed. From the depths of my Great Wisdom, the essence of the Buddha’s teachings flowed naturally from my lips, each word like a golden lotus pouring into the thief’s heart. Deep within him, there was an inherent goodness. When he heard the Dharma, he fell to his knees and wept bitterly. He had been entangled in debts left by his father and had been driven into a life of crime with no other way out. Now, hearing the Dharma, he finally knew how to repent. He followed me in chanting to eradicate his sins, wiping away the ignorant karmic retribution he had created in the past."

The Boundless Power of the Dharma

"Chanting the Buddha-name eliminated my karmic obstacles, enabling me to teach the Dharma and save sentient beings. Such miracles show that the power of the Buddha’s teachings is truly boundless. When I returned to the temple, the Master saw my appearance and heard my voice, exclaiming, 'The Buddha’s teachings are truly inconceivable!' In this life, I have travelled in the guise of a monastic, widely saving all sentient beings with whom I have karmic affinity. In this life, the lingzhi saved me, and I have saved many beings. No matter what form a being appears in before me, I save them with a heart of compassion, without any discrimination. I see all beings as one with myself, sincerely chanting and teaching the Dharma, wishing for all beings to leave suffering behind. Namo Amituofo."

The Nature of Chao Du

"When we speak of Practitioner Su performing Chao Du, where is the place of deliverance? There is no specific place. Why do I say this? Because everywhere is the place; there is not a single spot that is not. No matter where this body travels, that place becomes a site for deliverance. And when is the time for deliverance? There is no specific time, because every moment is the time. Deliverance is not limited by time or place. On the contrary, because of the differences in time and place, deliverance extends even further to boundless regions, saving countless spirits through the contemplations of Practitioner Su. Practitioner Su performs deliverance while standing, while sitting, and even while resting. Deliverance happens in the invisible realm, saving spirits across the unimaginable spaces between the visible and the invisible.

Have you ever seen water flowing into every crack and crevice, no matter the size? The Buddha’s teachings are just like that flowing water. The hearts of worldly people are murky and defiled, yet within that murkiness, there remains a trace of purity. That trace of goodness is like the tiny, invisible cracks on an uneven surface. The water finds those cracks and flows in, just as the Buddha’s teachings find the right conditions to teach and transform beings everywhere. It does not matter if a being is 'good' or 'evil'; as long as there is karmic affinity, they will be saved. Practitioner Su spreads the Dharma to transform the hearts of the world, finding the right opportunity to let the Dharma flow in. As long as a being can hear even a single sentence of the Buddha’s teachings, Practitioner Su uses the wisdom of 'skillful means' to save them, never abandoning any being to fall back into the cycle of rebirth. It is my wish that every single being may leave suffering behind.

I am deeply grateful for the compassion of Practitioner Su.

Namo Amituofo."

This interview was recorded and written by the chief writer, disciple Shi Fajing.