火のわざ | Silent battle by the hearth

胡来胡現、漢来漢現の古鏡が、とうとう物理的サイズまで制御自在になった。| The Old Mirror, which let hu and han appear exactly as they are, has now achieved higher flexibility…

雪峰が言う、

世界闊一丈、古鏡闊一丈。（世界の大きさが一丈なら、古鏡の大きさも一丈。）

世界闊一尺、古鏡闊一尺。（世界の大きさが一尺なら、古鏡の大きさも一尺。）

今回は大小だ。一丈が来れば一丈を現し、一尺で来れば一尺であらわす。そこにふたたび玄沙が登場。火炉^いろりを指して言う、

火炉闊多少。（火炉の大きさはどうなんですか？）

たまたま火炉がそこにあったのか。襖や壁でもよかったのか。だがもし火である必要があったとすれば、火は煩悩の比喩だからか。煩悩の炉とは、衆生の心だ。すると雪峰は、

似古鏡闊。（古鏡ぐらいだ。）

と答えた。火は煩悩、鏡はさとりの喩えに使われる。「煩悩すなわち涅槃」「迷即悟」という禅仏教の公式が思い浮かぶ。それを雪峰や玄沙が知らないはずはない。知った上で玄沙は火炉の闊^ひろさを尋ねる。予測できないのは、雪峰がどう応えるかだ。だが雪峰はあっさり公式で答えた。そこで玄沙はいう、

老和尚脚跟未点地在。（和尚、地に足が付いていませんね。）

「和尚は火炉の大きさについてもっとしっかり反応すべきだった」という批判ともとれるし、「相変わらずどこにも着地せず、名人の身のこなしだ」と称賛しているともとれる。私としては、ここは玄沙の火炉に「技あり」を認めたい。それが煩悩の喩えであってもなくても、世界／古鏡という抽象度の高い二極の間に、同系の「明鏡」ではなく、異質な「火炉」を置いた。さすがは雪峰、すぐにこれを認めて、公式をもってきて降参した。もちろん降参のしかたにも名人の技量は隠せない。「似古鏡闊」、古鏡の闊さと「同」じとは言わずに、玄沙を少しだけ不安にさせる。

–––正法眼蔵第十九「古鏡」

One day Xuefeng talked to the assembly,

While the world’s width is 1 zhàng, the Old Mirror’s width is 1 zhàng.
While the world’s width is 1 chĭ, the Old Mirror’s width is 1 chĭ.

This time Xuefeng started with ‘size’. The Old Mirror, which let hu and han appear exactly as they are, has now achieved higher flexibility controlling its size responding to the objects to be reflected. Then Xuansha came up again and, pointing to the hearth, asked:

How is the hearth’s width?

Could he address the question with a door or a wall instead of the hearth? Conversely, if the hearth was a crucial element of his question, then all its history would date back to the early Buddhist notion of klesa ––– desires and passions that cause sufferings ––– which was metaphorically linked with fire. Precisely the hearts are the hearth for passions.

This may suggest to some readers, who are fairly acquainted with Zen Buddhism, a popular teaching that passion and nirvana, or darkness and enlightenment, are one and the same. Needless to say, Xuansha knew that teaching. He addressed the above question assuming that Xuefeng also knew that. Just imagne a chess master, assuming all possible moves of the opponent master, whose actual next move is never known to him. Xuefeng moved with the simplest answer:

Almost the same (width with the Old Mirror).

Xuansha replied,

I don’t think you’re well grounded.

While this reply can be taken either as a rejection or an approval, I would rather appreciate Xuansha putting the ‘hearth’ into this high-grade game. Whether the hearth imply the passion or not, the space between the world and the Old Mirror got interfered by his hearth that was a material thing in contrast with another mirror of some kind. Master Xuefeng acknowledged this right away, without any further attempt to rearrange the issue. Xuefeng’s way of acknowledgement was unmistakably sophisticated. I suppose that his addition of ‘almost’ gave Xuansha a little bit fear.

––From “Old Mirror”, Shōbōgenzō.