The Penitent Jailer: From Delusion to Deliverance

This is a record of an interview with Ji Pinghuan, who sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. This account reflects upon his life and his subsequent service in the underworld. Recorded by the chief writer, Venerable HaiZe, on March 14, 2020.

Venerable HaiZe speaks:

"We respectfully invite Ji Pinghuan, the representative of the sixty jailers who were delivered to the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss today, to accept this interview."

Ji Pinghuan speaks:

"Ji Pinghuan and the sixty jailers here express our utmost sincerity in bowing to thank Namo Amituofo, Practitioner Su, and all the virtuous ones for the grace of delivering us to the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss." (Ji Pinghuan stands in front, with the others behind him; all sixty kneel and perform three prostrations to thank the Buddha for His grace.)

A Tragic Beginning and a Father's Devotion

"I am Ji Pinghuan. I was born a child with severe delusion because my mother suffered a difficult labour, and I remained in the womb for far too long. In modern terms, I was a baby who suffered from oxygen deprivation. Because I was stuck for so long, my mother exhausted every last ounce of her strength to finally bring me into this world. She was so depleted that after one final look at me, she passed away with a smile and tears in her eyes. Whenever my father told me this story, he would weep with sorrow. My parents had a deep and loving relationship; they had hoped to have many children and grow old together. They never expected that the birth of their first child would lead to such a tragedy. My father never remarried. He dedicated his entire life to caring for me, for I was the most precious gift my mother had left him in this world.

From childhood, I was cognitively impaired. The damage caused by oxygen deprivation to my brain was irreversible, making me much slower in my reactions than an average infant. I did not know how to cry when I was hungry, nor did I know how to cry when I needed to relieve myself. Not to mention sitting, crawling, standing, or walking—these were all beyond my reach. Fortunately, my Six Roots were intact. I could see my father’s movements, expressions, and eyes; I could hear his voice; and I could eat and swallow. Although my limbs were clumsy, my father often massaged me and helped me exercise so that my muscles would not atrophy. I loved to smile. I do not know why, but whenever my father saw me smile, he would cry. I would stare at him with wide eyes. I thought that my smiling and his crying were just the natural way people reacted to each other in this world. It was only when I grew older that I realised his tears were born of heartache—he was pained that I had to endure such suffering, yet I could still smile so happily. I do not know how many times I fell while trying to learn to sit up. My muscles were too weak to support my body weight. I spent ten, twenty, or even a hundred times more effort than others to achieve even the smallest result. This was the environment in which I survived."

Finding Refuge in the Temple

"By the time I finally learned to walk, I was covered in bruises. It took a whole year for my father to transition from holding my hand constantly to letting me walk a few steps on my own. I was four years old then. The birth injury affected my limbs, but my eyes and my ability to speak were relatively unaffected, so I could communicate with my father and learn. Although writing was extremely difficult for me, I could speak. My speech was slow, but people could understand what I was saying. In my heart, I understood everything; my mind could move faster than my words. When I was ten, my father brought me to the temple to visit the Venerable. He did not want me to be treated differently by others in the world; he hoped that once I was old enough to understand, I could receive the Buddha’s care in a pure place. Under my father’s guidance, I had already learned to take care of my own daily needs—food, clothing, and movement. That was no easy feat!

The Venerable told my father very clearly that to live in the temple, I had to adapt to its rules and participate in the daily morning services and walking meditation. My father begged the Venerable to take me in for a while, saying that if it did not work out, he would come to take me away. My father knew he could not protect me forever, so he wanted me to live in this kind and compassionate environment to minimise the harm I might face. I understood my father’s heart very well. Therefore, I was extremely careful and worked hard to ensure I could slow myself down, not be impatient, and still keep up with everyone else’s pace. Everyone saw how earnestly I tried to complete the tasks the Venerable assigned, including picking vegetables and washing rice in the kitchen. I could not do the heavy work, but I could do the light tasks—wiping tables, arranging books—and this was already beyond what I could do at home. It must have been the Buddha’s protection. The Buddha knew I did not want my father to worry about me, so He blessed me with a bit more dexterity and responsiveness."

A Life of Gratitude and the Final Lesson

"I lived in the temple for over half a year before I saw my father again. Because he had to go on a long trip, he did not feel comfortable leaving me with anyone else, so he decided to stay in the temple. I told my father that I liked staying in the temple, and the Venerable agreed that I could stay, provided my father accompanied me until I was completely independent. Thus, my father and I lived in the temple for nearly fifteen years. My father donated the money from selling our family land and did clerical and manual labour for the temple; even the vegetables harvested from the temple garden bore the footprints of both father and son. As for me, I could do work like smiling and guiding donors to offer incense and dine. The days passed quickly. Fifteen years went by, and I was a twenty-five-year-old young man. Although my body was disabled and I could not become a monastic, I was spiritually grateful and content. Every day when I opened my eyes, the first thing I did was give myself a grateful smile, and then give the first pilgrim I met a kind smile, along with the words everyone in the temple said: 'Namo Amituofo.' When the pilgrim returned my smile and said 'Namo Amituofo,' that was my greatest joy.

My father passed away when I was twenty-five. Before he died, he held my hand and said, 'I have fulfilled my duty to your mother; you can now live well in this world.' It was only then that I realised his love for my mother had never faded. I never married, and I spent the better part of my life in the temple. When I was thirty, I was working in the temple as usual when I felt a tightness and pain in my chest. I asked the Venerable for leave to go back to my room to rest. In my sleep, I heard a tall deity, accompanied by two officials, calling for me. I intuitively knew that these were the temple’s Dharma protectors, because I had often heard the Venerable say, 'Everyone must be very mindful of their every thought and intention, for the temple’s Dharma protectors know them all.' In the presence of the Dharma protector, the officials seemed weak. Under the call of the officials, my spirit emerged. For a moment, I felt so light; my hands and feet could move at will. So, this is how free a spirit is without a body! I heard the Dharma protector ask the officials, 'Where are you taking him?' The officials replied, 'Taking him to see the King of Hell, for he has fulfilled the promise of this lifetime.' Although I did not understand, I still said 'Thank you!' to the Dharma protector and gave him a sincere, grateful smile, because I knew that for twenty years, my ability to grow up and stay safely in the temple must have been due to the care of the Dharma protectors. I saw the Dharma protector return my smile. The officials looked puzzled, but they said nothing and took me before the King of Hell in the Third Hall. And so, I ended this short life, which was so different from everyone else’s."

The Laws of Karma and the Path to the West

"It was only when I was before the King of Hell that I learned that in a past life, I had been a monastic who gave lectures but was stingy with the Dharma. I knew two parts but only taught one; I knew three parts but only taught two. I had not realised I had this problem, thinking it was normal. My parents were my Dharma protectors at that time, and they supported me greatly, not knowing I had this issue of stinginess with the Dharma. Therefore, in this life, we met to become my parents. My mother had a shallow affinity with me, and the karmic retribution for her protecting my stinginess resulted in her giving birth to me in a difficult labour, thereby concluding that bond. My father had protected me more, so the retribution he received was that he had to care for me until the end of his life. As for me, I suffered the retribution of being cognitively impaired and disabled until the age of thirty, at which point the karma was concluded. Because the stinginess with the Dharma and my parents’ protection were both unintentional mistakes, I was able to spend this life in the kind environment of a Buddhist temple. Alas! This is the Law of Cause and Effect. At that time, I repented for my mistakes before the King of Hell and said that once this retribution was exhausted, I would return to report to him. That is why I appeared today to conclude this case. Worldly affairs never depart from the laws of karma and cause and effect, and the cycle of rebirth! Monastics, in particular, must be extremely careful and cautious. Whatever you know, you must give; do not be stingy with the Dharma, otherwise, you will have to repay it with the suffering of your future lives.

The King of Hell was compassionate; seeing that my good roots were still intact, he gave me the position of a jailer. Because my spirit had performed some good deeds when I was a monastic, and I had also formed some Dharma affinity in the temple during this lifetime, I was able to gain liberation and not be restricted by the physical disabilities I had in the world, allowing me to be free and healthy. Thus, the work of a jailer was something I could handle with ease. I waited for three years and eight months, and finally, today, I saw my name on the list of jailers to be delivered by Practitioner Su, who sends beings to the Western Pure Land.

I, Ji Pinghuan, along with the sixty jailers, have been led by the Dharma Body of Practitioner Su into the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. This world of brilliance is now right before our eyes. All around us are seven-coloured flowers, falling in a colourful cascade. It is so beautiful, so fragrant! My heart is filled with infinite gratitude, and gratitude again!

Gratitude to Namo Amituofo, gratitude to Practitioner Su and all the virtuous ones.

Ji Pinghuan and the sixty jailers bow three times to everyone once more!"

Interview information recorded by the Buddhist disciple, Venerable HaiZe.