A Chan Master once undertook the instruction of a novice who was having great difficulty in detaching himself from the persons of his former, secular life. "You cannot serve the Dharma until you sever these bonds," said the Master. "You must destroy these possessive relationships! Kill them! Regard them as if they no longer existed!"
The novice asked, "But my parents? Must I slay them, too?"
And the Master replied, "Who are they to be spared?"
"And you, Master," said the novice, "must I kill you, too?"
And the Master smiled and said, "Don't worry. There is not enough of me left for you to get your hands on."
Such a master was Xu Yun There was not enough of him left for anyone to grasp. In 1940 the Japanese Imperial Air Force bombed Nan Hua Monastery in which he sat meditating; but they could not get their hands on him. In 1951, when he was an old man of ninety-three, cadres of communist thugs beat him repeatedly; but although they broke his bones and did succeed in killing younger, stronger priests, they Could not get their hands on him, either. There was not enough of him left for anyone to grasp. How can the Buddha Self be killed? Xu Yun would not die until he was ready to die, until he accomplished the tasks which he had set for himself.
I will tell you about this remarkable man, this Empty Cloud whose presence so defined my life. I will tell you things that I remember and I will do my best to transmit to you his Dharma teachings. Perhaps if you learn from him you will be able to experience some of the joy I knew from knowing him.
