ZenExperience-obooko-rel0025

advisers, opening the imperial coffers to build many lavish and
subsequently famous temples.
Emperor Wu led Buddhist assemblies, wrote learned
commentaries on various sutras, and actually donated menial
work at temples as a lay devotee. He also arranged to have all the
Chinese commentaries on the sutras assembled and catalogued.
Concerned about the sanctity of life, he banished meat (and wine)
from the imperial table and became so lax about enforcing
criminal statutes, particularly capital punishment, that critics
credited his good nature with an increase in corruption and
lawlessness. While the Taoists understandably hated him and the
Confucianists branded him a distracted ineffectual sovereign, the
Buddhists saw in him a model emperor. Quite simply, Emperor
Wu was to southern Chinese Buddhism what Emperor
Constantine was to Christianity.
The emperor was known for his hospitality to visiting Indian
monks, and it is entirely possible he did invite Bodhidharma for an
audience. 2 According to the legend, Emperor Wu began almost
immediately to regale his visiting dignitary with a checklist of his
own dedication to the faith, mentioning temples built, clergy
invested, sutras promulgated. The list was long, but at last he
paused, no doubt puzzled by his guest's indifference. Probing for
a response, he asked, "Given all I have done, what Merit have I
earned?" Bodhidharma scowled, "None whatsoever, your
majesty." The emperor was stunned by this reply, but he pressed
on, trying another popular question. "What is the most important
principle of Buddhism?" This second point Bodhidharma
reportedly answered with the abrupt "Vast emptiness." 3 The
emperor was equally puzzled by this answer and in desperation
finally inquired who, exactly, was the bearded visitor standing
before him—to which Bodhidharma cheerfully admitted he had no
idea. The interview ended as abruptly as it began, with
Bodhidharma excusing himself and pressing on. For his first
miracle, he crossed the Yangtze just outside Nanking on a reed
and headed north.
The legend of Bodhidharma picks up again in North China,
near the city of Loyang. The stories differ, but the most enduring
ones link his name with the famous Shao-lin monastery on Mt.
Sung. There, we are told, he meditated for nine years facing a
wall (thereby inventing "wall gazing") until at last, a pious version
reports, his legs fell off. At one time, relates another Zen story, he
caught himself dozing and in a fit of rage tore off his eyelids and