佛說阿彌陀經 題名署譯及依止序

The first ten lines of the Amitābha Sūtra set out, one by one, everything a Dharma assembly requires: a transmission heard with one’s own ears, the moment when speaker and hearer met, the Buddha who spoke, the Jeta Grove and Anāthapiṇḍada’s Park, and a grove filled with people.

Then the Buddha spoke. No one had asked.

Five Things

These ten lines may be read as five things: so that trust may arise, “Thus have I heard”; speaker and hearer meeting, “at one time”; a teaching must have a teacher, “the Buddha”; a teaching must have a place, “in the Jeta Grove, Anāthapiṇḍada’s Park, in the country of Śrāvastī”; and last, those to whom it is addressed — the ones who came to hear.

The five answer a single question: on what grounds may a stretch of speech be received as Dharma?

Sixteen Names, Eight Pairings

Of the twelve hundred and fifty great bhikṣus, the sūtra names sixteen. These sixteen names stand two by two: inner wisdom with outer powers, ascetic discipline with eloquence, realizing emptiness with knowing illusion, abandoning folly with departing from desire, wide learning with hidden practice, flowing springs with worthy offerings, converting greed with removing arrogance, giving medicine with feasting the saṅgha.

Not like doubled with like — two courses set side by side. The roster holds Śāriputra, whose wisdom stood out, and also Cūḍapanthaka, born beside a road; Ānanda of wide learning, and Rāhula of hidden practice. A single phrase of the sūtra — “such were the many great disciples” — gathers them all.

Then four bodhisattvas: Mañjuśrī, Ajita, Qiantuohedi, Nityodyukta. What “Qiantuohedi” means, a Tang commentator declared undetermined — what is not known is said to be not known, and nothing is supplied in its stead.

One Word: “Together”

Last come Śakra, lord of the gods, and an immeasurable multitude. With the three classes complete, the introduction closes on the single word “together.”

Those who had exhausted the afflictions and those still in training, those first in the list and those last, the human and the divine — all seated in one grove, awaiting one utterance.

And that utterance begins in the west: “From here, westward, past a hundred thousand koṭis of buddha-lands.”

Kumārajīva’s translation, T12n0366, from the opening to “together with an immeasurable multitude of gods.” The bracketed figures at the head of each segment give the Taishō page, register, and line.

〔1 · Title〕（0346b25）The Sūtra Spoken by the Buddha on Amitābha.

〔2 · Attribution〕（0346b27）Translated by Kumārajīva, Tripiṭaka master of Kucha, in the Later Qin.

〔3 · Thus have I heard〕（0346b28）What follows I heard directly from the Buddha.

〔4 · The time, the Buddha, the place〕（0346b28）At one time the Buddha was dwelling in the Jeta Grove, Anāthapiṇḍada’s Park, in the country of Śrāvastī. (Prince Jeta gave the grove and its trees; the elder Sudatta bought the ground by paving it with gold and built the monastery there. Because Sudatta constantly relieved those who were solitary and without support, he was called Anāthapiṇḍada, “Giver to the Solitary.”)

〔5 · The great assembly of bhikṣus〕（0346b29）Present with the Buddha were twelve hundred and fifty great bhikṣus. All of them were great arhats — sages who had exhausted the afflictions and were worthy of the offerings of gods and men — and all were known and esteemed by the whole assembly.

〔6 · The sixteen great disciples named〕（0346c01）Among them were: the elder Śāriputra (Sanskrit Śāriputra, “son of the śāri bird,” named after his mother); Mahāmaudgalyāyana (Sanskrit “of the great bean-gathering clan,” named from his mother’s lineage); Mahākāśyapa (upholder of the ascetic discipline); Mahākātyāyana (Sanskrit “great male of the shaven lineage,” from a brahmin clan); Mahākauṣṭhila (Sanskrit “great knee,” so named for his large knees; he was Śāriputra’s maternal uncle); Revata (Sanskrit “the Aśvinī constellation,” named from the star-rite by which his birth was sought); Cūḍapanthaka (Sanskrit “roadside-born,” so named because he was born beside a road); Nanda (Sanskrit “delight in beauty”; he was the Buddha’s younger brother); Ānanda (Sanskrit “rejoicing,” so named because he was born when the whole world rejoiced at the Buddha’s awakening); Rāhula (the Buddha’s son, renowned for hidden practice); Gavāṃpati (Sanskrit “ox-mark,” who bore the appearance of a chewing ox through past karma); Piṇḍola Bhāradvāja (“Piṇḍola” is his given name; “Bhāradvāja” is his clan name, meaning “sharp faculties”); Kālodayin (Sanskrit “black radiance,” whose body had a dark lustre able to shine; he once converted a miserly woman to give up her greed); Mahākapphiṇa (Sanskrit “the Scorpio lodging,” who gained the path when the Buddha lodged in the same room and appeared to him as an aged bhikṣu to teach him); Vakkula (Sanskrit “fine countenance,” who in a former life gave a single myrobalan fruit to an ailing bhikṣu and thereby received the reward of freedom from illness); and Aniruddha (Sanskrit “unceasing,” the Buddha’s cousin, who in a former life offered a single meal to a pratyekabuddha and whose merit did not cease for fifty kalpas). Such were the many great disciples in that assembly.

〔7 · The bodhisattva-mahāsattvas〕（0346c06）There were also many bodhisattva-mahāsattvas — those of great resolve and great practice: Mañjuśrī, Prince of the Dharma (Sanskrit “wondrously auspicious,” at whose birth ten auspicious signs appeared; “Prince of the Dharma” says that he succeeds to the station of the Dharma); the bodhisattva Ajita (Sanskrit “the compassionate one,” that is, Maitreya); the bodhisattva Qiantuohedi (the commentator records that the rendering of this name is not determined); and the bodhisattva Nityodyukta (“ever-exerting”: each moment surpassing the moment before, advancing without turning back). Such were the many great bodhisattvas in that assembly.

〔8 · The multitude of gods〕（0346c08）There were also Śakra, lord of the gods, and an immeasurable, uncountable multitude of gods, all present together.

Most sūtras open with a question. In the Vimalakīrti Sūtra, Ratnākara offers a canopy and asks about the pure land; in the Sūtra on Contemplating the Buddha of Measureless Life, Vaidehī, imprisoned, begs for a place of peace. The Amitābha Sūtra has none of this. The introduction sets five things in place — the hearing, the time, the Buddha, the place, and the assembly — and then the Buddha simply begins to speak.

The introduction offers no explanation for this. It only assembles the conditions for a Dharma assembly, and then stops.

Five Things, None of Which May Be Missing

The introduction ends at “together with an immeasurable multitude of gods.” Within this passage five things may be read out clearly: “Thus have I heard,” spoken so that trust may arise; “at one time,” marking the meeting of speaker and hearer; “the Buddha,” since a teaching must have a teacher; “in the Jeta Grove, Anāthapiṇḍada’s Park, in the country of Śrāvastī,” since a teaching must have a place; and last, those to whom it is addressed — the three classes of the assembly.

These five look like convention. Set side by side, however, they are found to answer a single question: on what grounds may a stretch of speech be received as Dharma?

I heard it myself — this is transmission. At that time — this is the moment when speaker and hearer actually met. The Buddha — this is who spoke. The Jeta Grove — this is where it was spoken. These people were present — these are the ones able to understand it and able to pass it on. Let any one of the five be missing, and everything that follows hangs in the air.

Why Śāriputra Stands First

Of the sixteen great disciples, Śāriputra is named first. This is worth pausing over: more than a thousand arhats had come to the Jeta Grove, all of them possessing the three knowledges and established in the fourth fruit. Why should the son of the śāri bird come first in the list?

The answer lies not in rank but in this particular assembly. Śāriputra’s eloquence surpassed that of ordinary śrāvaka sages and his wisdom stood out among his peers; on Vulture Peak he was the one who requested the teaching on the assembly’s behalf, and at Śrāvastī he was foremost among those who heard the sūtra. To place him first violates nothing.

What deserves notice is the shape of that answer. It does not say that Śāriputra is the greatest; it says what office he holds in this particular sūtra. Throughout the Amitābha Sūtra the Buddha calls only one person by name — Śāriputra. The three characters occur thirty-eight times. By placing that name at the very front, the introduction gives every later call its footing.

And Śāriputra is precisely the one placed under “inner wisdom” in the eight pairs. The Buddha speaks the practice that appears to require the least analytical wisdom — holding fast to the name — to the man of inner wisdom. The introduction does not remark on this. It only arranges the people.

Sixteen Names, Paired Two by Two

The sixteen disciples may be read as eight pairs: inner wisdom with outer powers, ascetic discipline with eloquence, realizing emptiness with knowing illusion, abandoning folly with departing from desire, wide learning with hidden practice, flowing springs with worthy offerings, converting greed with removing arrogance, giving medicine with feasting the saṅgha.

This reading turns a list of names into a figure. Śāriputra’s wisdom stands opposite Maudgalyāyana’s powers; Kāśyapa’s asceticism opposite Kātyāyana’s eloquence; Ānanda’s wide learning opposite Rāhula’s hidden practice. No pair is a doubling of like with like; each sets two different courses beside one another.

Nor is the roster made only of the illustrious. Cūḍapanthaka is “roadside-born,” placed under “abandoning folly” among the eight pairs; Gavāṃpati still bore the appearance of a chewing ox through former karma; Nanda was the Buddha’s own younger brother, and even the “beauty” in his name “delight in beauty” was taken from his wife’s. These men sat in the same assembly as Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana. The introduction assigns them no grades — the single phrase “such were the many great disciples” gathers them all.

Then come four bodhisattvas. Mañjuśrī is called Prince of the Dharma; Ajita is Maitreya; Nityodyukta surpasses each moment the moment before. As for Qiantuohedi, a Tang commentator left four words in that place: the rendering is not determined. What is not known is said to be not known. That is followed here, and nothing is supplied in its stead.

From the Gods to the Word “Together”

Last come Śakra, lord of the gods, and an immeasurable multitude. With the three classes of the assembly — śrāvakas, bodhisattvas, and gods — now complete, the introduction draws to a close.

It closes on the single word “together.” That word gathers every difference into one place: those who have exhausted the afflictions and those still in training, those whose wisdom stood out and those of ordinary capacity, the renunciants and the gods — all seated in one grove, awaiting one utterance.

Then the Buddha spoke. He waited for no one to ask.

Why Read These Ten Lines to the End

The introduction is often treated as a preamble and skipped. The real content of a sūtra seems to begin only when the Buddha opens his mouth; what comes before is announcement.

Read to the end, however, these ten lines are seen to be doing something quite specific: they set out what conditions must hold together for an utterance to become a Dharma one can rely upon.

Someone heard it with his own ears, so there is transmission. Speaker and hearer did meet in that moment, so it is not imagined. The one who spoke was the Buddha, so there is authority. There was a definite place, so it is not out of nowhere. And those present were able both to understand and to transmit, so it will not be cut off. Let one of the five be missing, and what follows hangs in the air.

This structure is not peculiar to the Amitābha Sūtra. Every sūtra opens so; only here it is unusually bare — no requester, no prelude, no display of powers. The five are set out, and the Buddha speaks.

The way the sūtra arranges people says something too. The sixteen great disciples stand two by two, and no pair doubles like with like: wisdom with powers, asceticism with eloquence, wide learning with hidden practice. The roster holds the most renowned and also one born beside a road, of ordinary capacity; those who had exhausted the afflictions, and Ānanda who was still in training. Among the four bodhisattvas there is even one whose name the most exacting Tang analyst of terms declared undetermined.

Of these differences the sūtra offers not one word of comment. It gathers them with six characters — “such were the many great disciples” — and then joins the three classes with the single word “together.”

A Dharma assembly comes about not because those present are alike, but because they are present together.

That Utterance Begins in the West

The last word of the introduction is “together.” The next sentence is: “At that time the Buddha said to the elder Śāriputra.”

Twelve hundred and fifty were seated, the fourfold assembly had gathered, the gods were beyond number — and when the Buddha spoke, he called one name.

The one so called stands under “inner wisdom” among the eight pairs. Yet the practice about to be taught is the one later given as holding fast to the name — a practice requiring no analysis, no eloquence, only the holding of a name without letting go.

The sūtra does not explain this arrangement. It only arranges the people first, and then speaks.

Carrying Forward — Three Readings, Each in Its Own Place

Above is the meaning of these ten lines themselves. Below, two Tang eyes cast their light from the side — the mirror is not the sūtra; only the same Dharma assembly, seen through two ways of reading.

The Cien line is the reading of Kuiji’s Comprehensive Praise Commentary on the Amitābha Sūtra. He divides the whole sūtra into three parts, the introduction ending at “and Śakra, lord of the gods, together with an immeasurable multitude of gods”; within the introduction he sets aside the older sixfold division and follows the Buddhabhūmi treatise in dividing it into five. He reads the sixteen disciples as eight pairs and the four bodhisattvas as two, tracing every name to its Sanskrit form, to its karmic occasion in former lives, and to its position in the outline. “Elder,” he says, holds two senses: “first, advanced in years and seniority; second, broad in learning and deep in understanding.” Why Śāriputra stands first he sets as a question and then answers. This is the way of doctrinal analysis — reading the sūtra as a figure that can be opened out layer by layer.

Worth recording is his sense of measure. Explaining “Qiantuohedi,” he writes that the rendering is not determined, and in the same breath collates the name against Xuanzang’s new translation, The Sūtra on Praising the Pure Land and the Buddha’s Embrace, noting that in that recension the third bodhisattva is named “Never Resting.” That a member of Xuanzang’s own line should read Kumārajīva’s older version and check its names against the new one is internal evidence of the chain of transmission — and his count does not agree with the received text, which is recorded without adjudication.

The Shandao line is the reading of ritual practice. In the Liturgical Hymns for Turning the Sūtra and Walking the Path in Aspiration for Birth in the Pure Land, this introduction is recited without the alteration of a single character, and the recitation is followed by a hymn: “Aspire to be born there, aspire to be born there. The great compassion of all buddhas is not two.” No outline is imposed, no question set. Here the introduction is not an object of analysis but the content of chant.

The third reading is the manuscript speaking for itself. The text Shandao recited reads “a great assembly of bhikṣus” where the base text has “a great saṅgha of bhikṣus”; it also reads Maudgalyāyana, Kātyāyana, Cūḍapanthaka, and Vakkula in the graphic forms later found in the variant column of the Song, Yuan, and Ming printings. The Amitābha Sūtra on which seventh-century ritual depended and the base text printed today are not identical in fine detail. This is not enough to alter one character of the base text, but it lets one see that the sūtra was carried down alive.

Ten lines at the opening of a sūtra: read as structure by one, as sound by another, and leaving its own graphic forms in a reciter’s hands. The three do different work; recorded without adjudication, each in its own place.