A rich man redeemed.
In Buddhism, there are 5 deadly sins. These are, in no particular order:
1. Killing your father. When daddy died, all he left us was alone.
2. Killing your mother. Not the momma!
3. Creating a schism in the Buddhist community. This has actually happened like dozens of times now, so maybe this one isn't so bad.
4. Killing an arhat. Arhats are basically sages that meditate in caves or under waterfalls and seek enlightenment for themselves. Though lacking in the compassion that is an essential trait of truly enlightened buddhas, they are still highly revered and respected by the buddhist community. So don't kill them! Why would you? They're just minding their own business on top of a mountain somewhere.
5. Injuring a Buddha. Fully enlightened Buddhas can't easily be harmed; their incredible insight lets them see danger from miles away, and their all-encompassing compassion disarms most assailants anyway. For those who nevertheless succeed in harming a Buddha, the karmic consequences instantly condemn the assailant to Naraku, the Buddhist hell, in the next life. Devadatta, the Buddhist version of Judas, incredibly managed to knock out sins #3-#5, and his awful karma was so tainted that Hell opened up right at his feet, and he plunged into the horrible depths for the next 47 quintillion years. But what happens if you hurt an arhat, or a Boddhisatva, aka almost-buddhas? Is that just as bad as hurting a Buddha? Not quite, but the consequences are still severe. Just ask Emon Saburo.
The richest man in Shikoku, Emon Saburo was petty and cruel. One day he heard a traveling monk outside his door begging for alms. "Get lost," he shouted, and the monk went on his way. But the next day, the monk was there again. "What the heck did I tell you yesterday?" Emon screamed. "Earn your own damn money, like I did, you damn beggar!" The monk again departed. However, the monk kept returning every day for the rest of the week, and each time Emon shooed him away. On the eighth day, Emon had enough of the holy man. He smacked the monk's begging bowl out of his hand, and it shattered on the pavement. "Got the message now, baldy? Go back to your temple, freeloader!" The monk looked at the broken bowl without anger, and walked away into the night. "Finally, some peace and quiet," huffed Emon. He slammed the door and went back to his estate. Problem solved.
But the next day, horrifying news arrived. Emon's youngest son, the baby of his eight children, had died in the night of a mysterious illness. Emon was wracked with grief. But his agony had just begun. Over the next seven days, one by one, his other seven sons perished, each stricken with an unidentifiable sickness. Eight strong sons now occupied eight awful coffins.
"Oh my God."
Emon finally put 4 and 4 together. There was word of a traveling monk who, after meditating in the wilderness, had attained enlightenment and was traveling from place to place, begging for alms and performing miracles for the faithful. But for those who shunned the monk, strange calamities befell them. What would happen if one shunned this man not once, but eight times? "That monk. . .I've gotta find him. Whatever it takes."
Emon Saburo set out on the Shikoku pilgrimage. He walked from town to town, as fast as he could, in desperate pursuit of the monk. Humbled by his suffering, Emon sought not revenge, but redemption. If he could apologize and attain the monk's forgiveness, maybe a holy man of such power could undo the loss of his sons. But everywhere he went, he seemed to be an hour, a day, a week too late. But he didn't give up. Over the course of a decade, he circled Shikoku dozens of times, but to no avail. The monk was always just out of sight. But Emon got an idea. "I got it! I'll go backwards! There's no way I'll miss him now!" But this too failed. Nevertheless, Emon refused to stop. While climbing the mountain trail to the twelfth temple, Shosanji, Emon collapsed in the snow, dying and frostbitten. But right as his life was about to end, the monk appeared. "Emon Saburo," said the monk. "You used your money only to enrich yourself, while beggars starved and holy men withered in the cold. If you had another chance, what would you do?" Between labored breaths, the shivering Emon said, "I would rebuild the city temple. Holy men could study and preach there, the poor could have a meal and seek respite from the cold. The cold. . . . .I never imagined it could be this cold." The monk nodded. "Emon Saburo, by your hand you harmed the Boddhisatva Kukai, who will one day be known as Kobo Daishi. This is a grave sin. However, your desire for repentance is real, and thus, your karma has been returned to equilibrium. You have earned a second chance. You will reincarnate not as a mindless animal or a vengeful ghost, but as a human once again. Pursue not wealth and earthly pleasures, but enlightenment for yourself and those around you. Be at peace, Emon Saburo." Tears frozen on his icy cheeks, Emon reached out for the monk to thank him, but his strength finally failed. Emon's hand fell and rested on a stone as he died peacefully in the snow.
Years later, in the prosperous house of Saburo, a baby was born with a small pebble in his hand. The pebble was inscribed a name: Emon Saburo. The boy grew up and used his family's wealth to restore the local temple, a temple which is today known as Ishiteji, or Temple of the Stone Hand. The temple remains one of the most popular in Shikoku, and the pebble is enshrined within the temple grounds.
So remember- if a monk shows up at your door begging for alms, please, for the love of God, don't hit the guy!!! Or else you'll have to walk around Shikoku the rest of your life. Could be worse, but once was enough for me.
Probably.
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