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From Bodhicitta
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''Bodhicitta'' (the "awakening mind") is Mahāyāna Buddhism's most revolutionary concept. The following historical sketch traces how this altruistic aspiration to achieve buddhahood for all beings transformed Buddhist spirituality from a focus on individual liberation to universal salvation. The work explores bodhicitta's etymological foundations, historical emergence, and philosophical classifications through a sophisticated fivefold typology. It analyzes Indian cultivation lineages, Tibet's distinctive developments, and each Tibetan school's approach, demonstrating bodhicitta's centrality as the generative foundation of all Mahāyāna practice. +
How to Be a Bodhisattva: Introduction to the Practice of the Bodhisattva Path (The Bodhicaryāvatāra) +
Among the treatises of late Indian Buddhism, none is more beloved than the ''Introduction to the Practice of the Bodhisattva Path'' (''Bodhicharyavatara'') by the eighth-century monk Shantideva. It was the subject of numerous commentaries in India and became especially important in Tibet. Despite its length, it was commonly memorized, and almost all discussions of the bodhisattva contain verses from it.<br> As is true of so many Indian works, almost nothing can be said with certainty about its author. Only two works by him survive; the other is an anthology of sutra passages titled the ''Compendium for Training'' (''Shikshasamucchaya''), organized around the elements of a bodhisattva's practice. An entertaining story about the origins of the text presented here has also been passed down.<br> According to the legends, Shantideva was of royal birth but renounced the world before his investiture as king, as the Buddha had done. He was ordained and entered Nalanda, a monastery in north India renowned as a great center of learning. However, he remained for the most part in his cell and became known as an indolent monk, earning the nickname bhusuku, which meant that he was engaged in only three activities: eating, sleeping, and defecating. In order to humiliate him, one day his fellow monks challenged him to recite scriptures before the assembly, preparing a throne for him to sit on. Shantideva agreed, but asked whether the monks wished to hear him recite a well-known scripture or something new. They opted for something new, and he recited the ''Introduction to the Practice of the Bodhisattva Path''. He eventually reached the thirty-fourth stanza of the ninth chapter—the chapter on wisdom—which reads, "When one no longer apprehends an entity that one could conceive as not existing, then all being has lost its ground. How could it appear before the mind again?" At that point, he began to rise into the air, making it difficult for everyone to hear how the recitation ended (and thus there are two recensions of the text, of different lengths).<br> There are of course a great many expositions and extolments of the bodhisattva in the Mahayana sutras, commentaries, treatises, and poems. We have seen an example of the bodhisattva’s extreme charity in the ''Shibi Jataka'' (p. 100), which describes King Shibi cutting the flesh from his own body to save the life of a dove. Poetic evocations of the bodhisattva’s various virtues appear in the ''Avatamsaka Sutra''. But what sets Shantideva's work apart from these other classics is its humanity. To vow "I will free all beings in the universe from suffering" is a noble but insane sentiment. How could a single person ever possibly do that? Shantideva's text, written largely in the first person, represents the most powerful attempt in Indian Buddhist literature to take the profound difficulties of the bodhisattva's vow seriously, treating it not simply as words spoken in a prayer but as the guiding principle of the ordinary activities of one's life. Particularly famous are his arguments for patience in the sixth chapter, his argument for "the exchange of self and other" at the end of the eighth chapter, and the prayer that concludes the work, which is often recited alone.<br> Because of its remarkable appeal, all of the text is presented here—except for some highly technical sections of the ninth chapter, which remain difficult to grasp, just as they were for those who watched Shantideva disappear into the sky. (Gómez, preliminary remarks, 395)
Lama Zopa Rinpoche gave this brief outline of ''tonglen'', the meditation practice of generating bodhicitta by taking on the suffering of others and giving them happiness. This teaching is excerpted from "Advice for Saka Dawa Duchen," a teaching given at Kopan Monastery, Nepal, on June 4, 2020. Transcribed by Ven. Joan Nicell. Lightly edited by Sandra Smith. +
Equanimity protects us from emotional overreaction and allows us to rest in a bigger perspective. Christiane Wolf on how to cultivate it. +
No abstract given. Here are the first relevant paragraphs:
I am not the only person to have argued that Hume is a kind of Western Mādhyamika (Garfield 1990, 2011, 2015). And indeed, in teaching Hume at Tibetan universities in India, I have found that Tibetan scholars instantly recognize him as a kind of Mādhyamika, even if they are not sure that there is a ready-made ''grub 'mtha'' (doxographic) box within that camp into which to fit him. Most of the grounds for this classification are metaphysical, concerning Hume’s accounts of causation, the nature of personal identity and his account of the construction of the idea of external objects, each of which is strongly redolent of the thought of Candrakīrti, although with hints of Bhāvaviveka as well.[1]<br> Alison Gopnik has recently argued that this is no accident of history (Gopnik 2010). She points out that Hume was resident at La Flèche Abbey at precisely the time that Ippolito Desideri was in residence following his remarkable sojourn in Tibet, and hypothesizes that Hume in fact borrowed all of his apparently Buddhist ideas from Buddhism as related to him by Desideri.[2] Were this true, it would be one of the more remarkable instances of direct borrowing of Buddhist ideas by an early modern philosopher, alongside that of Leibniz's virtual plagiarism of the ''Huayan''
(''Avataṃsaka'') ''Sūtra'' from rough translations sent to him by his Jesuit correspondents in China.[3]<br> Unfortunately, however, Gopnik's historical argument is at best tendentious. For one thing, every one of the Humean ideas that Gopnik urges is borrowed from Tibet is also present in very much the form that Hume develops it in the Western skeptical tradition, developed at length by Sextus Empiricus and reported by Bayle. We know that Hume read Bayle and Sextus with care, and so there is no reason to think that he would not simply have borrowed the arguments he advances from them. So the Tibetan hypothesis is not necessary in order to explain the phenomenon.<br> For another thing, Hume, as we know, was a merciless critic of the Christian church, and particularly of Catholicism, and was more than willing to bite the hand
that fed him. If he had discovered at LaFlèche that ideas he was advancing were endorsed by Buddhists—those condemned as pagan heretics by the church—he would surely have reveled in the opportunity to elevate pagan learning over Catholic doctrine. That he does not suggests strongly that he was not in fact aware of the affinities of his own ideas to those of Buddhism.<br> Nonetheless, as McEvilley (2002) and Beckwith (2015) have each persuasively argued, there is ''something'' to Gopnik's claim of influence. It is just that the links in this chain are older than she imagines. There is good (but again, not demonstrative) reason, including the testimony of Diogenes Laertius, to believe that there was interaction—perhaps mediated by Alexander's campaigns, perhaps by the Persian court, perhaps in Greek Bactria—between classical Greek and Indian Buddhist philosophers. Indeed, as Beckwith argues, classical skepticism may be an Indian import to Greece. Hume sits firmly in the Western skeptical tradition and borrows not only a
general Pyrrhonian outlook, but many specific Pyrrhonian dialectical tropes. So there is good reason to believe that the confluence between Humean and Buddhist insights is not accidental, even if not mediated by Desideri's time in Tibet and Hume’s sojourn in LaFlèche. (Garfield, introductory remarks, 131–32)
<h5>Notes</h5>
#My Tibetan colleagues note that in certain respects—e.g. Hume's taking convention as a kind of explanatory bedrock, and his refusal to take it for granted that we always have concepts corresponding to our words—he appears to be a good thal 'gyur pa/Prāsaṅgika; but in other respects, e.g. his apparent willingness to accept some convention-independent phenomena for granted—such as impressions or events—he appears more like a rang gyud pa/Svatantrika.
#See Desideri (2010) for a detailed account of Desideri's time in Tibet and fascinating observations on Buddhism.
#See Liu (2002) for more on this affinity.
I
No abstract given. Here are the first relevant paragraphs:
For dGe lugs writers ever since the time of Tsong kha pa the ''locus classicus'' for the need to first identify precisely the object of negation in meditating on emptiness has always been Śāntideva's ''Bodhicaryāvatāra'' 9:140 (Tib.: 139) ab. Tsong kha pa makes it quite clear that inasmuch as it is a negation, absence of self (''bdag med'') or absence of inherent existence (''rang bzhin med pa''), i.e. emptiness, is understood on the model of any other negation: 'In order to ascertain a person is not present, it is necessary to know that person who is not existing [here]'. On this model it is necessary to identify well the self and inherent existence which do not exist. If there does not arise well a generic impression (''spyi'') of the negandum (''dgag bya'') then the negation (''bkag pa'') of that could not occur accurately.[2] If one does not identify the object to be negated properly then one may fall into one or the other of the two cardinal errors of over- or under-negating, and neither is conducive to liberation. That emptiness is a negation may be known from its being the equivalent of absence of inherent existence (''niḥsvabhāvatā'').[3] As a negation, it follows from ''BCA'' 9:140 ab that for emptiness to be apprehended it is necessary to 'make contact with' the negandum, and what could the negandum be but inherent existence itself? Thus for Tsong kha pa this half-verse from Śāntideva is central in his understanding that what emptiness negates is not existence as such but the inherent existence of entities.
<h5>Notes</h5>
#(note from article title) With thanks to my friends Tom Tillemans and Georges Dreyfus, who first asked me what I thought of ''Bodhicaryāvatāra'' 9:140. (N.B. This paper is a very, very much shortened version of a 66 page manuscript with a similar title forthcoming in a volume of my papers on the ''Bodhicaryāvatāra'': ''Studies in the Philosophy of the Bodhicaryāvatāra''.
#See Tsong kha pa (1990), p. 579: dper na / gang zag 'di mi 'dug snyam du nges pa la med rgyu'i gang zag de shes dgos pa ltar / bdag med pa dang rang bzhin med pa zhes pa'i don nges pa la'ang med rgyu'i bdag dang rang bzhin de legs par ngos zin dgos te / dgag par bya ba'i spyi legs par ma shar na de bkag pa'ang phyin ci ma log mi nges pa'i phyir te / This corresponds to the translation by Elizabeth Napper (1989), p. 176. For some other references, there is a similar discussion in mKhas grub rje's ''sTong thun chen mo'' (Cabezón, p. 92) and also his ''Lam ngan mun sel'' (mentioned ''ibid''., p. 441), where Śāntideva's half-verse is quoted, and also briefly in 'Jam dbyangs bzhad pa's ''Grub mtha' chen mo'', text and translation in Hopkins (1983), p. 633.
#See, for example, Candrakīrti's ''Prasannapadā'' on ''Madhyamakakārikā'' 20:18: tatra sūnyam ucyate yat svabhāvena nāsti /.
The highest form of altruism in scholastic Mahāyāna Buddhism is conveyed by the term ''cittotpāda'' ("mind-production, lifting up the heart"). In an earlier paper* I dealt with the place of this altruism in the ''Abhisaṁayālaṃkāra'' (=AA) and its commentaries. In those texts ''cittotpāda'' enjoys pride of place as entrance into the Mahāyāna, the first of seventy topics (Tib. ''don bdun bcu'') under which the concealed meaning (Tib. ''sbas don'') of the ''Prajñā-pāramitā'' (=PP) sūtras is discussed. In this paper I shall attempt to identify the PP ''sūtra'' from which the ''cittotpāda'' doctrine originates and show how it differs, in its origins, from ''bodhicitta''. +
No abstract given. Here are the first relevant paragraphs:
A fundamental question about humans is simply this: why are we so different from other primates, especially the nonhuman great apes or hominids? If we adopt an evolutionary perspective and consider a very long-term view of history, the great apes—chimpanzees, bonobos, orangutans, and gorillas—are our not-so-distant relatives, yet in many of our abilities we humans far exceed them. Some of the latest scientific research in multiple disciplines suggests that the difference lies in a fundamental capacity for a behavior that many primates exhibit but only humans have brought to its highest level: the ability to cooperate.[1] None of our near relatives in the primate world can cooperate in the way that we can, and among the various capacities required for the heightened level of cooperation that humans exhibit, perhaps the most important is the ability to work toward a common goal by connecting to others, in part by extending our sense of self into a broader social group that shares that objective. When that goal is understood to be the universal human aim of relieving suffering and achieving authentic happiness, Śāntideva's ''Guide to Bodhisattva Practice'' (''Bodhicaryāvatāra'', hereafter ''Guide'') becomes highly relevant to these scientific considerations, especially in terms of approaches to cultivating compassion. Likewise, the science of human cooperation and its evolutionary development illuminates certain aspects of Śāntideva's approach to developing compassion.<br> While various interpretations of Śāntideva's method for cultivating compassion exist, the one proposed here differs from some of the more recent scholarly interpretations.[2] Inspired in part by certain strands of the scientific literature on the evolution of cooperative cognition, I argue that Śāntideva assumes that his audience has an innate capacity for compassion that is inhibited by a self-other distinction that involves a false sense of self. Thus, enhancing compassion for others is not a matter of increasing one's feelings of love, warmth, or care for others; indeed, Śāntideva almost entirely avoids any such "warm fuzzy" language. Nor does compassionate connection with others result from being convinced by an argument that this is the only rational way to behave. Instead, for Śāntideva the cultivation of compassion in relatively inexperienced practitioners is a matter of disrupting the cognitive models that inhibit their innate capacity to sense and respond to all suffering, including the suffering of others. As we will see, this interpretation helps to resolve some puzzling issues in the ''Guide'' and points to some practical implications for further research on the cultivation of compassion. (Dunne, introductory remarks, 235-36)
<h5>Notes</h5>
#The most developed evolutionary argument, along with a review of the relevant literature, is found in Tomasello, ''A Natural History of Human Thinking''.<br>
#See especially Garfield, Jenkins, and Priest, "The Śāntideva Passage"; Jenkins, "Waking Into Compassion"; Garfield, "Buddhist Ethics in the Context of Conventional Truth."
Among the many Indian Buddhist ''jātakas'' celebrating the innumerable deeds of virtue and compassion performed by the Buddha during his previous lives, a significant number involve astonishing and gruesome acts of bodily self-sacrifice: In his birth as King Śibi, for example, the Buddha gouged out his eyes and gave them to a blind man; in his birth as Prince Mahāsattva, he allowed his body to be devoured by a starving tigress; in his birth as King Maitrībala, he encouraged five ''rākṣasas'' to feed on his flesh and blood; and in his birth as King Candraprabha, he cut off his own head on behalf of a greedy brahman.[1] Such stories are primarily didactic in nature, serving to illustrate, in the starkest possible way, the great selflessness and compassion cultivated by the Buddha during his long career as a bodhisattva. In terms of the bodhisattva's cultivation of the perfections (''pāramitā''), they are almost always classified as preeminent examples of the perfection of generosity or giving (''dāna''). Because stories involving the bodhisattva's bodily self-sacrifice are so frequently perceived in terms of dāna, I refer to all such stories collectively as "gift-of-the-body" stories and to the theme of bodily self-sacrifice itself as the "gift-of-the-body" theme.[2]<br> The plethora of Buddhist stories involving such gruesome acts of self-mutilation and self-sacrifice has often been met with dismay on the part of modern scholars. One of the earliest scholars to address the gift-of-the-body theme in any detail was Har Dayal, who collected, summarized, and discussed a series of gift-of-the-body stories in his influential 1932 work, ''The Bodhisattva Doctrine in Buddhist Sanskrit Literature.''[3] Despite his obvious interest in the theme, Dayal seems dismayed by the excesses of its execution. "The idea of giving away one's limbs has given rise to some curious stories", he plaintively states, "which are intended to be highly instructive and inspiring, but which are simply silly and puerile" (1932: 175). A few pages later (1932: 181-182), he continues:<br>
: The heroes and heroines of these stories give away wealth, limbs, life, wives and children in a spirit of exaggerated and fantastic philanthropy. The lack of a sense of proportion and harmony is the fatal flaw of the Indian temperament as exhibited in literature and religion. The Indian thinkers and writers often push a good idea to such extremes that it becomes grotesque and ridiculous.
No doubt, gruesome stories that dwell in agonizing detail on the frenzied sacrifice of blood, flesh, limbs, and life have clashed with many earlier scholars' romanticized portrait of Buddhism as a thoroughly rational creed that treads a "Middle Way" and avoids all such extremes.<br> Within their traditional context, on the other hand, it is clear that stories involving the gift-of-the-body theme were extremely popular in Indian Buddhism, appearing in innumerable variations throughout the history of the literary tradition and exerting a profound influence on Buddhist art, philosophy, and culture. They exist in the literature of all Mainstream Buddhist schools,[4] and (unlike many other types of stories) seem to fully retain their popularity within the literature of the Mahâyâna. Nor should such stories be thought of as "common fare" meant only to appeal to the vulgar tastes of the masses. Even the most sophisticated and elite Buddhist exegetes take such stories seriously and generally accord to the bodhisattva's gift of his body a very exalted place: The gift of the body is touted as the ideal gift and the paradigmatic manifestation of generosity, a perfect expression of the bodhisattva's selflessness and compassion.<br> In many contexts, the ideal nature of the gift of the body is conveyed by conceiving it wholly in terms of the bodhisattva's ''dāna-pāramitā'' or "perfection of generosity." Gift-of-the-body stories are frequently chosen to illustrate ''dāna-pāramitā'' within narrative collections intended to illustrate the six or ten perfections: The ''Cariyāpiṭaka'' uses two gift of-the-body stories (out of ten) to illustrate ''dāna-pāramitā'', while Ārya Śūra's ''Jātakamālā'' uses three. Similarly, gift-of-the-body stories are frequently invoked within exegetical discussions of ''dāna-pāramitā''. In the ''Mahāprajñāpāramitāśāstra'' attributed to Nāgārjuna, for example, a long section devoted to an explanation of each of the six perfections answers the question "How does the bodhisattva fulfill ''dāna-pāramitā''?" by stating: "He gives everything away without restriction, and when he gives even his own body, his heart experiences no regret: for example, King Śibi, who gave his body to a pigeon".[5] This is followed by a retelling of the story of King Śibi's gift of flesh to ransom a pigeon, this story itself serving as the complete explanation of ''dāna-pāramitā''. Likewise, in the ''Pāramitāsamāsa'' attributed to Ārya Śūra, the author begins his discussion of ''dāna-pāramitā''with eight verses on the gift of the body (mentioning flesh, blood, and limbs), clearly treating this gift as emblematic of ''dāna-pāramitā'' as a whole.[6] Again in the ''Cariyāpiṭaka'', the summary verses that conclude the first ten stories illustrating ''dāna-pāramitā'' explain that gifts of material goods constitute only the "preliminary requirements for giving" (''dāna-parikkhārā''), whereas the gift of one's limbs constitutes the "perfection of giving (''dānassa pāramī''), and the gift of one's entire body or life constitutes the "fulfillment" of the perfection of giving (''pārami pūrayiṃ'').[7] These and many other, similar contexts indicate that the gift of the body was often conceived as the paradigmatic example or fullest embodiment of the bodhisattva's ''dāna-pāramitā''.<br> The same high valuation of the of the body also comes across, however, in many contexts that make no reference to ''dāna-pāramitā''. Instead, the gift of the body is invoked in association with various other ideal categories of ''dāna'', categories that are always placed above — and favorably contrasted with — various lesser categories of ''dāna''. In another section of the ''Mahāprajñāpāramitāśāstra'', for example, gifts are classified as "inferior", "medium", and "superior", with the gifts of head, eyes, blood, and flesh (as well as kingdom, riches, wife, and children) constituting the "superior" category.[8] In very similar terms, the commentary to the ''Cariyāpiṭaka'' states that all bodhisattvas must make five gifts throughout the course of their careers: those of wealth, children, wife, body-parts, and life.[9] By making these five gifts incumbent upon all bodhisattvas, the text suggests that they constitute the preeminent and superior forms of ''dāna''.<br> Another well-known classification of gifts that accords to the gift of the body a high status distinguishes between those gifts that are "external" (''bāhira'') and those that are "internal (''adhyātmika''). "External" gifts are objects that are "external to the self", or adventitious property or possessions, while "internal" gifts are objects that are "internal to the self", or that which constitutes an integral or inherent part of one's person. Thus, in the ''Sivijātaka'' (Pāli No. 499), King Sivi thinks to himself: "There is not a single external object that I have not given, [yet] external gifts (''bāhira-dāna'') do not satisfy me; I want to give an internal gift (''ajjhattika-dāna'').[10] The context clearly suggests that "internal gifts" are vastly superior to "external gifts", and cites, as examples of "internal gifts", the flesh of the heart, the flesh of the body, the blood, and the eyes. This distinction between material objects as "external gifts" and gifts of the body as (inherently superior) "internal gifts" appears in many later Buddhist texts as well, such as the ''Bodhisattvabhūmi'', ''Pāramitāsamāsa'', and ''Mahāprajñāpāramitāśāstra''.[11]<br> Thus, in numerous exegetical contexts by means of such categories as "superior" gifts, "internal" gifts, gifts incumbent upon all bodhisattvas, and gifts fulfilling ''dāna-pāramitā'', the gift of the body is consistently depicted as an ideal form of ''dāna'', hierarchically superior to more ordinary types of giving. When we consider the great popularity of these tales and their exaltation by Buddhist exegetes, it is clear, then, that the Indian Buddhist tradition admires and praises the bodhisattva's gift of his body as an ideal form of giving and an ideal expression of ''dāna-pāramitā''. Nevertheless, the discomfort felt by scholars such as Dayal is not solely a modern phenomenon. In fact, despite its generally high valuation, there is ample evidence in Indian Buddhist literature that the bodhisattva's gift of his body was an ideal that caused a certain amount of ambivalence, and that its exalted position as an ideal form of generosity was sometimes contested. In various contexts, in fact, outright opposition to the bodhisattva's self-sacrifice is given full voice. By looking at the various forms such opposition took, we can discern not only the specific reasons why this one particular theme aroused ambivalence, but also what this ambivalence reveals about some of the deeper and more fundamental faultlines in Buddhist thought. This will be my aim in the present paper. (Ohnuma, preliminary remarks, 43–46)
<h5>Notes</h5>
#For a full list of references for each of these four stories, see Grey (1990): s.v. Sivi, s.v. Vyāghrī or Mahāsattva, s.v. Maitrībala, and s.v. Candraprabha.
#To some extent, of course, this is an artificial category. Buddhist stories involving self-mutilation and self-sacrifice fall into several different categories which should ultimately be treated as one large and interweaving thematic group, with the various types playing off each other in interesting ways. In order to limit my material, however, I have chosen to focus on those stories in which a gift of the body or a part of the body is emphasized, and to designate such stories as "gift-of-the body" tales. For further clarification of this category of tales and its relationship to other, closely related types of tales, see Ohnuma (1997: 40–43).
#Dayal 1932: 181-187. The gift-of-the-body theme is frequently mentioned, but has not been treated in any sustained manner in the scholarship on Indian Buddhism. In his book ''Buddhist Parables'', Burlingame (1922: 297-336) summarizes or translates nine such stories and has a useful collection of extracts from Christian texts that demonstrate striking parallels to the gift-of-the-body theme. Schalk (1983) is a more recent treatment, but is written in Swedish. Granoff (1990) is a close analysis of one gift-of-the-body story, the story of King Maṇicūḍa. For discussions of some closely related subgenres of Buddhist stories, see also Granoff [forthcoming] and Filliozat (1963).
#I borrow Paul Harrison's term "Mainstream Buddhism" to refer to non-Mahāyāna Buddhism (see Harrison 1992: 77-78, n. 2).
#Translated in Lamotte 1944-1980: 1, 255. Though attributed to Nāgārjuna, the ''Mahāprajñāpāramitāśāstra'' may be of Central Asian or Chinese origin; nevertheless, it is clearly based on Indian materials. I have taken the liberty of relying on this text for its many relevant discussions of the gift-of-the-body theme.
#''Pāramitāsamāsa'' 1.6-13 (Meadows 1986: 158-161). The Ārya Śūra who authored the ''Pāramitāsamāsa'' is most likely distinct from, and several centuries later than, the Ārya Śūra who authored the more famous ''Jatakamālā. See Meadows (1986: 1-21) for this argument.
#Jayawickrama 1974: 2, 13, v. 146. This classification is not restricted to ''dāna pāramitā'' alone. In the ''Nidānakathā'', after Sumedha resolves before Dipaṃkāra to fulfill the ten perfections, he states in reference to all of them: "The sacrifice of one's limbs constitutes the perfections; the sacrifice of material things constitutes the 'lesser' perfections; the sacrifice of one's life constitutes the 'ultimate' perfection" (Fausboll 1875-1897: 1, 25; all translations in the text and notes are my own, unless otherwise stated). As previously noted, however, the sacrifice of limbs and life are most commonly found associated with the perfection of giving.
#Lamotte 1944-1980: 2, 750-751.
#''Cariyāpiṭakaṭṭhakathā'' 96, cited in Horner 1975: 2, 14, n. 1.
#Fausboll 1875-1897: 4, 402.9-11.
#In the ''Bodhisattvabhūmi'', the two types of gifts are defined somewhat technically as follows: "What is the [bodhisattva's] gift of everything (''sarvadānam'')? In brief, everything refers to the two types of objects that can be given: internal and external. When a bodhisattva gives away his own body - even up to the marrow of his bones - that is referred to as the gift of a wholly internal object. When the bodhisattva ingests food and drink and then regurgitates it for the sake of those beings who eat regurgitated food, that is referred to as the bodhisattva's gift of a partly internal and partly external object. [Finally,] the gift of any object aside from those just mentioned is referred to as the gift of a wholly external object" (Dutt 978: 80.15-20). Likewise, the ''Mahāprajñāpāramitāśāstra'' observes that "the internal gift consists of giving one's life without regret for beings, as is recounted in the ''jātakas'' and ''avadānas''" (translated in Lamotte 1944-1980: 2, 688). The ''Pāramitāsamāsa'' indicates the superior nature of the "internal gift" by advising the bodhisattva to think: "May those who desire my flesh take my flesh; may he who desires even my bone marrow take my bone marrow by drawing it out. For I bear this wretched body for the sake of the world - how much more an external object (''vastu bāhyam'')!" (''Pāramitāsamāsa'' 1.7, Meadows 1986: 158)
Introduction to Gzhan gyis brtsad pa'i lan mdor bsdus pa rigs lam rab gsal de nyid snang byed: An Answer to Blo-bzang-rab-gsal's Refutation of the Author's 'Sher le nor bu ke ta ka' and Its Defence, the Brgal lan nyin byed snang ba +
No abstract given. Here are the first relevant paragraphs:
The ''Bodhicaryāvatāra'', the "Entry of the Course towards Enlightenment", is one of the greatest classics of the Mahayana tradition. In approximately 1000 verses Śāntideva has outlined the entire process through which the aspirant attains the stage of Bodhisattva.<br> It is recorded that Śāntideva's fellow monks at Nālanda regarded him as a lazy oaf whose sole functions were eating, sleeping and excreting. They felt that such idle monks were unworthy to enjoy the alms offered by the faithful. After all, was it not the obligation of monks constantly to study the dharma? They determined to expel him from their midst and consequently summoned him to recite
what he knew of the Buddha's teaching. Śāntideva appeared as he had been commanded before the monastic assemblage, but refused to begin, as they had
intended, his final farewell until he had been bidden by his teacher. When Jayadeva, his preceptor, commanded him, he ascended the lofty throne his hecklers had raised in order to increase his discomfiture and asked his audience whether they wished him to recite that which was known or that which was new. They reached a consensus that they desired him to expound that which was hitherto unknown.<br> He decided that his own ''Śikṣāsamuccaya'' was too long and the ''Sūtrasamuccaya''[1] too brief for the occasion; so he began to create, while reciting, the ''Bodhicaryāvatāra''. The lucidity of its expression and the profundity of its thought held his audience spellbound. Fortunately, several of the assemblage thought to take down his words; and three versions of the verses uttered on that occasion were circulated. Ultimately, Śāntideva held for the one in 1000 ślokas.<br> The ''Bodhicaryāvatāra'' is superficially not an especially difficult text. Taken as a whole, it is one of the clearest of the Buddhist shastras. In the ninth and final chapter it was Śāntideva's intention to condense all Buddhist and, specifically, Mādhyamika thought around the concept of Transcendental Wisdom (''prajñā'')[2], to describe the process of the transformation of all consciousness into pure wisdom. To explain this chapter, the Prajñāpariccheda, commentators, Indian and Tibetan, have written volumes on the ''Bodhicaryavatāra''. (Smith, preliminary remarks, 1–2)
<h5>Notes</h5>
#Bu-ston, Tāranātha, and a number of other Tibetan authorities refer to a ''Sūtrasamuccaya'' by Śāntideva. The ''Sūtrasamuccaya'' that we know today is attributable to Nāgārjuna. A number of ingenious solutions have been put forth to explain this situation. Please see Murti, T. R. V., ''The Central Philosophy of Buddhism. 2nd ed''. London, Allen and Unwin, 1960, p. 101, fn. 3.
#Prof. H.V. Guenther (''Jewel Ornament of Liberation''. London, Rider, 1959, p. 3 and 225) translates this key term with the superbly accurate but verbose "discriminating awareness born from wisdom". He points out that prajñā is a transcending function: with the help of prajñā we may "pass beyond the borders of our habitually unenlightened attitude and enter the realm of spirituality and enlightenment". It is this transcending function that would seem to be the most significant.
'''Introduction'''
The ''Bodhicaryāvatāra'' (BCA) first came to my attention while studying Buddhism at a Tibetan monastery in Kathmandu, Nepal, from 2002 until 2006.[1] The BCA was an integral part of the education of the Buddhist monks at the monastery, and was also part of the syllabus taught by Tibetan khenpos (''mkhan po''; monk-professor) to the visiting foreign students. The BCA struck me as more easily accessible than a lot of the other texts taught at the monastery, most of them tending to be overly dry and complicated philosophical elaborations. The BCA, on the other hand, engaged my fascination due to its altruistic sentiment, its vivid use of imagery, and its engaging philosophical considerations. The interest remained, and when the possibility opened for me to undertake the writing of a master’s thesis there was no doubt in my mind about what topic to chose. The only question was how to approach the text. I began by studying the Sanskrit edition together with its translations into Tibetan and Chinese, as well as the modern translations available in English. The fruit of this initial labour was a quadrilingual edition of the text, with each verse arranged parallel with its equivalent in the other languages. The experiences I drew from reading this, and other multilingual texts, in several seminars organized by Professor Jens Braarvig at the University of Oslo in 2007 and 2008 convinced me to focus on a broader perspective, one that would take into consideration the text as it has been transmitted through various cultures and times, as a vehicle for cultural exchange.
<h5>Notes</h5>
#During this time I studied for a BA (Hon.) degree in Buddhist Studies at the Centre for Buddhist Studies at the Ka-Nying Shedrup Ling Monastery in Boudhanath, Kathmandu, a centre affiliated with Kathmandu University. +
Is "Buddha-Nature" Buddhist? Doctrinal Tensions in the Srimala Sutra: An Early Tathagatagarbha Text +
Recent controversies in Japanese Buddhist scholarship have focused upon the Mahayana notion of a "Buddha nature" within all sentient beings and whether or not the concept is compatible with traditional Buddhist teachings such as ''anātman'' (no-abiding-self). This controversy is not only relevant to Far Eastern Buddhism, for which the notion of a Buddha-nature is a central doctrinal theme, but also for the roots of this tradition in those Indian Mahāyāna ''sūtras'' which utilised the notion of ''tathāgatagarbha'' (Buddha-embryo or Buddha womb). One of the earliest Buddhist texts to discuss this notion is the ''Queen Śrīmālā Sūtra'' (''Śrīmālādevīsūtra''), which appears to display a transitional and revisionist attitude towards traditional Mahāyāna doctrines such as emptiness (''śūnyatā'') and no-abiding-self (''anātman''). These and related issues are examined as they occur in the ''Śrīmālā Sūtra'' and as they might relate to the issue of the place of Buddha-nature thought within the Buddhist tradition. Finally some concluding remarks are made about the quest for "true" Buddhism. +
The following excerpt is drawn from Markus Viehbeck's ''Polemics in Indo-Tibetan Scholasticism''. It discusses the debate between Mipham and his contemporary from the Geluk school, Pari Rabsel (Dpa' ris Rab gsal, 1840–1912), outlining the various topics of disagreement over their interpretations of the ninth chapter of the ''Bodhicaryāvatāra''. Four main topics of controversy are explored: the relationship between insight and other perfections, the nature of ego-clinging and selflessness, the realization of emptiness by śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas, and issues concerning the two truths and the nature of ultimate reality.
This detailed examination of the arguments and counterarguments of both scholars, contextualized within the broader Tibetan Buddhist philosophical landscape, offers a comprehensive look at how different schools of thought interpret key Madhyamaka concepts. It provides insight into the methods of Tibetan scholastic debate and the ways in which different traditions engage with and interpret canonical texts, serving as a valuable resource for those seeking to deepen their understanding of Tibetan Buddhist philosophy and ongoing discussions surrounding the interpretation of foundational texts. +
This article by Michael Hahn (Bonn) uses a textual crux in BCA X.12 as a springboard for a broader philological study of Sanskrit onomatopoetic adverbs. The problematic word ''chamiti'' in the verse — which describes a lotus rain extinguishing hellfire — had puzzled editors and translators, generating six competing interpretations. Hahn argues that ''chamiti'' is an adverb formed from the onomatopoetic root *''cham''- plus ''iti'', meaning "with a hissing/sizzling sound," and that the Tibetan translators had understood this correctly all along.
From this starting point, Hahn identifies and analyzes three morphological types of adverbial formations built with iti as a final element, all derived from onomatopoetic roots (e.g., ''jhaṭiti'', ''jhagiti'', ''taḍiti'', ''dhagiti''). He traces these formations across classical Sanskrit literature — in Candragomin's ''Śiṣyalekha'', Hemacandra's ''Pariśiṣṭaparvan'', and Rājaśekhara's ''Bālarāmāyaṇa'' — and shows that the formation patterns are already described in Pāṇini's grammar (sūtras 6.1.98–99), though largely neglected in Western scholarship. The article thus contributes both a resolution to a specific BCA textual problem and a more general account of an underappreciated category of Sanskrit word formation. (Source: Claude.ai) +
J
Śāntideva's classic work on the bodhisattva path, the ''Bodhicaryāvatāra'', contains a famous passage in which he commands "exchanging self and other." This passage has become the basis for Buddhist meditative practices, in which one imaginatively looks back upon one's self as an "other," from the positions of those whose status is relatively advantaged, relatively disadvantaged, or similar. These practices are notable for their encouragement of the use of negative emotions of envy, rivalry, and contempt, in service of loosening the grip of our exclusive identification with our own egos. This essay explores the value of Śāntideva's text for Christians, and their attempts to love their neighbors as themselves. +
No abstract given. Here are the first relevant paragraphs:
''The Sutra of Sāgara, the Nāga King'' is also known as ''The Sutra of the Nāga King Sāgara Who Asked about the Incantations (Dhāraṇī)'' and ''The Sutra of the Accumulation of the Pure Dharma, the Dharma Jewel''. This sutra was translated into Chinese by Dharmarakṣa in A.D. 285 and is also extant in Tibetan.<br> The first half of the sutra takes place on Vulture Peak (Gṛdhrakūṭa), the latter half in the Nāga king's oceanic palace. The principal teachings of the text are the Bodhisattva practice and the inexhaustible Dharma of Mahāyāna. This sutra is divided into twenty chapters, the main exposition is in the fourth chapter, "The Inexhaustible Storehouse"[11] [of Bodhisattva practice] through the sixth chapter, "The Body of Incantations." The principal theme is that the Mahāyāna teaching is embodied in the
incantation of the inexhaustible storehouse of merits which are accumulated by the Bodhisattva practice.<br> ''The Sutra of Sāgara, the Nāga King'' appears to have been greatly influenced by the ''Prajñāpāramitā'' but also suggests influence from the Pure Land school because of its reference to being born in the Buddha's land after hearing his name,[12] probably referring to the Buddha Amitābha and Pure Land. During the Nara period in Japan, this sutra gained immense popularity as a sacred text for the rituals of rain ceremonies because of the rain-giving faculty attributed to the Nāgas. The text was also used in rain ceremonies in China where sometimes as many as eleven hundred Buddhist priests attended the ritual.<br> Chapter 14, "Jewel Brocade Receives the Prediction," is strikingly similar to the Nāga princess episode in the ''Lotus Sutra'' and utilizes the same argument as the ''Vimalakīrtinirdeśa'' episode concerning the goddess.[13]<br> In the following episode, Jewel Brocade focuses on the key issue of the illusion of sexuality by arguing the case that all phenomena are equal in nature, that is, Empty, and should not be discriminated as being different in nature. The teaching of Emptiness is the fundamental and dominant theme in all Mahāyāna Buddhist literature. In accordance with that theme, the denial of innate sexual characteristics is a necessary corollary. ''The Sutra of Sāgara, the Nāga King'' is not the first text to conclude that there is no sexual discrimination if one accepts the teaching of Emptiness. In the ''Ta-chih tu lun (Mahāprajñāpāramitāśāstra)'', the discriminative characteristics of men and women are analogous to the ignorant individual's perception of water in a mirage.[14]
: If the characteristics of men and women are [discriminated as] identical or different, their true nature is unattainable. Why? Because phenomena [Dharmas] are neither the ego nor belong to the ego; they are Empty. Because they are Empty, there is neither male nor female.[15]
The commentary cites an author who explains that:
: . . . although women have superficial knowledge, conditioned by their past karma, they are able to receive a prediction [of future Buddhahood]. Because they express such a desire in their hearts, the Buddha will listen to them.[16]
Like the serpent princess in the ''Lotus Sutra'', Jewel Brocade also offers her most precious jewel to the Buddha as a sign of her commitment to learn about his teaching. She immediately awakens to the thought of enlightenment, which indicates that she is a beginner Bodhisattva of the first stage and asserts, with her companions, that she will become a Buddha. Mahākāśyapa, the spokesman for the conservative Buddhist attitude toward women, immediately reminds the princess of the female sex's limitations. Here we see a different response to the conservative Buddhist position with regard to women. Unlike the Nāga princess in the ''Lotus Sutra'' who defers to the monk by changing into a male, Jewel Brocade replies that the Buddha's teaching has no male or female qualities. The princess then engages in a discourse on Emptiness which denies discriminations of any kind.<br> The episode of Jewel Brocade not only illustrates in a humorous way the comment from the T''a-chih tu lun'' that the Buddha will listen to those who desire in their hearts to commit themselves to the Bodhisattva practice but also ignores the sexual change required of aspiring young female Bodhisattvas, which we have found in other Buddhist texts. The Dharma removes notions of sexuality for those practicing the Bodhisattva path. (Paul, introduction, 232–34)
<h5>Notes</h5>
11. Chinese: ''wu-chin Isang''.<br>
12. See also Chapter 1, "Practice," in ''The Sutra of Sāgara, the Nāga King'', T. v. 15, n. 598.<br>
13. The Jewel Brocade tale appears to have been influenced by the ''Vimalakīrti'' sutra, having been translated approximately sixty years after the first recension of the ''Vimalakīrti which is no longer extant.<br>
14. T. v. 25, n. 1509, p. 102 b 2-4.<br>
15. T. v. 25, n. 1509, p. 206 b 6-8.<br>
16. T. v. 25, n. 1509, p. 591 c. 10–12.
K
Kamalaśīla (Tib. Padma’i ngang tshul; c. 740-795 CE, Frauwallner, 1961, 144) was a monk and scholar best known as the disciple and commentator of Śāntarakṣita (c. 725-788) and the representative of Indian Buddhism in the so-called Bsam yas debate (792-794, Demiéville, 1952, 177). He made a number of original contributions to Indian Mahāyāna thought, championing and further developing Śāntarakṣita's *Yogācāra(-Svātantrika)-Madhyamaka syncretic system (Keira, 2004, 4-9). He was a prolific writer, and his erudition, attention to detail, and eloquence mark his corpus as one of the richest sources in the history of 8th-century Indian interreligious philosophical exchange. Like his teacher, his work demonstrates vast learning in the major philosophical traditions of his time, Buddhist and non-Buddhist alike, as well as a commitment to rational analysis and argumentation. (Source: "Kamalaśīla," in ''Brill's Encyclopedia of Buddhism, Vol. 2'', 272) +
Kamalaśīla, a disciple of Śānarakṣita, was an eighth centurion Indian Buddhist master from Nālandā Mahāvihāra. He was the one who accompanied Śānaraknita to Tibet at the request of King Thrisong Deutsan. He went to Tibet in the eighth century and stayed there for three years. During his stay, the famous philosophical debate known as ‘Samye Debate’ between Kamalaśīla and Hashang Mahāyāna (Moheyan) was held. In the debate, Kamalaśīla negated the distorted view introduced and spread by Hashang. By refuting his wrong views he reformed and established the right views there. As a result, he became famous as a great reformer. Kamalaśīla composed seventeen texts which are preserved in Tengyur Collection. Among them, ''Bhāvanākrama'' (''Stages of Meditation'') is the masterpiece. The text is actually adorned with a set of three texts of meditation, better say compendium of three parts of meditation, written into Sanskrit residing in Samye, the first Buddhist Monastic Institution in Tibet. Later, it was translated to Tibetan by the Indian Paṇḍita Prajñāvarma and Tibetan translator Jñānasena. Though the text was composed in Sanskrit language, but it was not accessible in India for about 10-15 years. In 1939, Prof. G. Tucci had a visit to Tibet and discovered the manuscript of the first chapter of the text in its Sanskrit original from Pökhang Monastery and third chapter from Russia. After that he published them in Roman scripts. Later on, realizing the necessity, importance and preciousness, Late Ven. Gyaltsen Namdol, former restorer and researcher of Central Institute of Higher Tibetan Studies, Sarnath, transcribed the Roman manuscripts into Devanagari. After that he restored the rest part, did the Hindi translation of the entire text and got it published in 1985 from the Central Institute of Higher Tibetan Studies. Apart from this Sanskrit restoration and Hindi translation several modern Tibetan and western translators have also translated it to English. The text particularly contains the subject matter of meditation, especially calm abiding (''śamatha'') and special insight (''vipaśyanā''). In addition, importance of compassion, ''pāramitā'', four means of conversions etc., is also discussed in it.
This article examines the significant relationship between His Holiness the Fourteenth Dalai Lama and Khunu Lama Tenzin Gyaltsen, a humble Himalayan Buddhist master who became one of the Dalai Lama's most important teachers. After meeting in India in 1956 and again in Varanasi in the early 1960s, the Dalai Lama recognized Khunu Lama's exceptional knowledge and invited him to teach at a teacher training program in 1965, where he earned the respect of prominent Tibetan scholars despite his modest appearance and lack of institutional status.
The centerpiece of their relationship was Khunu Lama's transmission of Śāntideva's ''The Way of the Bodhisattva'', which profoundly influenced the Dalai Lama's spiritual practice and teaching. The Dalai Lama has publicly praised Khunu Lama's most famous composition, ''The Jewel Lamp: A Praise of Bodhicitta'', and shifted his own emphasis toward teaching these texts, which he keeps close at hand. Through their mutual respect and dedication to Mahāyāna Buddhism, both masters have helped revive the practice of bodhicitta in the modern era, leaving an enduring legacy of wisdom and compassion. +
Khunu Rinpoche Tendzin Gyaltsen has been called a bodhisattva and saint by those who knew him. His knowledge of Tibetan Buddhism was so superior that he came to be accepted by lamas of different schools as one of the greatest Tibetan lamas of his time. Yet he was not ethnically Tibetan and was known as the "Precious One from Kinnaur," referring to his birthplace in northern India.
Throughout his life from 1895 to 1977, Khunu Rinpoche taught and studied with some of the masters of the twentieth century as he traveled through India, Tibet, Nepal, and Sikkim—Sanskrit pandits in Benares, Hindu scholars in Varanasi, Tibetan lamas in Sikkim, Tibetan philosophy scholars at Sera Monastery in Lhasa. His concerns, interests, and impact transcended sectarian, political, linguistic, and national borders.
Shortly after his exile from Tibet, the Dalai Lama asked Khunu Rinpoche to teach the more learned of the refugee lamas in Mussoorie. His Holiness requested personal instruction from him on Shantideva's ''Bodhicharyavatara'' (''Entering the Path of Enlightenment''), the great eighth-century guide for a bodhisattva. He also received the pointing-out instruction on the nature of mind known as the "Three Worlds Which Strike the Vital Points" from Khunu Rinpoche. The Dalai Lama's respect for him was profound: He would prostrate to Rinpoche in the dust when they met at the Great Stupa in Bodh Gaya, the site of the Budhha's enlightenment in India.
While never ordained as a monk, Khunu Rinpoche achieved an extraordinary degree of realization by observing the Bodhisattva vows. Focusing every action and thought upon the intent of enlightenment for all sentient creatures, he lived the life of a wandering yogi with a devoted female companion, the Drikung Khandro. Nor was he a prolific writer, but his lifelong devotion and study culminated in his single masterpiece, ''Vast as the Heavens, Deep as the Sea: Verses in Praise of Bodhicitta'' (Wisdom Publications, 1999). Written in 1959, it is Khunu Rinpoche's account of a single year’s reflections on bodhicitta, the altruistic aspiration for enlightenment. The text is comprised of 356 four-line verses written in a blank diary, and their spirit and wisdom echoes Shantideva’s masterpiece, ''Bodhicaryavatara''.
Continue reading [https://tricycle.org/magazine/khunu-rinpoche-bridge-between-sects-and-spiritual-traditions/ here].
