Why Is Keeping the Precepts the First Condition for Building Taoist Conduct?

Ren Farong (Former President of the China Taoist Association)

Building the religious conduct of Taoism bears on the very survival of Taoism, and every member of the clergy should treat it with the utmost seriousness.

Under the influence of the movements of yin and yang and the destined turns of heaven and earth, people at this stage have lost their original nature: the seven emotions run wild, material desires swell, social morality declines, and selfishness is rampant. Amid this endlessly complex and many-faceted world, all who are cultivating perfection and seeking to awaken to the Tao, if their will is not firm, their faith not true, and they cannot withstand temptation, will be swept away by the secular world, until their faith weakens, their precepts grow slack, they drift with the current and turn toward worldly ways—neither truly lay nor truly Taoist. In these circumstances, strengthening Taoist conduct and invigorating the mysterious tradition is an urgent task, and the first condition for building Taoist conduct is a single word: “precept” (jie). Let us first talk about the meaning of this word.

Now let us look at the structure of the character jie, “precept.” In high antiquity, people planted two wooden poles in front of their dwellings and joined them with a crossbar to keep out violent intruders. Notice also the component on the right, ge, the dagger-axe, a weapon of ancient times. From this we can see that not only were there poles blocking the door, but a weapon was held in constant guard: this is the meaning of “precept.” From this one word, the meaning extends to every aspect of human society. To govern a country, setting up a court and establishing government requires the principles of state; in military affairs there must be military discipline; even a small family must have household rules; craftsmen must have compass and square; and so those who cultivate perfection and seek to awaken to the Tao must keep precepts.

In high antiquity, when the ancestral master Guangcheng taught the Yellow Emperor Xuanyuan the method of cultivating the Tao, he said: “Be careful of what is within you, shut out what is without; much knowledge leads to ruin.” That is: guard well your own door, do not let desires run wild outwardly, and do not let unwholesome influences from outside come in.

The Taoist liturgy of daily recitation says it very clearly: Good men and good women rely on fasting and precepts as their ferry and bridge. All that is conditioned reveals the true paths; embodying these forms of the teaching, one may receive and uphold them. Able to screen out all entanglements and remove attachments forever, with outer thoughts not entering and inner thoughts not going out, abiding in right mindfulness, one attains coolness in the five zang organs and harmony in the six fu organs. Whatever blockages lie among the 360 joints, the karma of the ten evils, the karma of the 180 afflictions, and the sources of all suffering and sin are all swept away. Then the true qi of Supreme Harmony is drawn in to moisten the field of the body. The five zang organs and six fu organs are observed inwardly with the mind’s eye; wherever the true qi is, it is pure and bright, empty, white, and radiant, dim and obscure. Within and without there is nothing to do; in darkness and silence one reaches non-action directly, ever-present from ancient times to now. Holding to still thought, one awakens from this; with the power of the Tao to support and the medicine of the teaching to help, one then moderates food and drink, drives out the ghosts and corpse-worms, calms the six roots, quietly illumines the eight consciousnesses, empties the five aggregates, realizes the wonder of the Three Primes, attains the Tao and becomes perfected, and naturally ascends to salvation.

This is a comprehensive and incisive summary of cultivation by the patriarchs of Taoism who attained the Tao, and the core of this passage of scripture is still fasting and precepts.

In human society, a country without its “principles” leaves the people uneasy; an army that loses its “discipline” is in disarray; a school that loses its “regulations” produces students of no merit; a family without “rules” raises descendants who come to nothing; and a religion that loses its “precepts” falls into degeneracy. So although the thousands of scriptures and tens of thousands of scrolls speak from different angles in different words, the one precondition for cultivation is keeping the precepts. One must never, in the course of cultivation, let the seven emotions run wild and the six desires loose, acting recklessly and without restraint, doing whatever one pleases, dissolute and unbridled.

Thus the Classic of Clarity and Stillness (Qingjing Jing) says: Lord Lao said: The Great Tao has no form, yet it gives birth to heaven and earth. The Great Tao has no feelings, yet it moves the sun and moon. The Great Tao has no name, yet it nurtures the myriad things. I do not know its name; forced to name it, I call it the Tao. The Tao has the clear and the turbid, the moving and the still. Heaven is clear and earth is turbid; heaven moves and earth is still. The male is clear and the female turbid; the male moves and the female is still. Descending from the root and flowing out to the branches, it gives rise to the myriad things. The clear is the source of the turbid; movement is the foundation of stillness. If people can remain constantly clear and still, heaven and earth will all return to them. The human spirit loves clarity, but the mind disturbs it. The human mind loves stillness, but desires pull at it. If you can constantly dispel your desires, the mind becomes still of itself; settle the mind, and the spirit becomes clear of itself. Then, naturally, the six desires do not arise and the three poisons are extinguished. Those who cannot do this have not yet settled the mind or dispelled desire. For those who can dispel it: looking inward at the mind, the mind has no mind; looking outward at the body, the body has no body; looking afar at things, things have no things. Once these three are understood, one sees only emptiness. Contemplating emptiness, emptiness too is empty; emptiness has nothing to empty. When what is emptied is no more, even the nothing of nothing is no more. When the nothing of nothing is no more, there is profound and constant stillness. When stillness has nothing to be still, how could desire arise? When desire no longer arises, that is true stillness. True constancy responds to things; true constancy attains one’s nature. Constantly responding, constantly still—this is constant clarity and stillness. Being clear and still in this way, one gradually enters the true Tao. Having entered the true Tao, this is called attaining the Tao. Though it is called attaining the Tao, in truth nothing is attained. It is called attaining the Tao in order to transform all beings. Those who awaken to this may transmit the sacred Tao.

The above is only the first step for the practitioner. When one finally reaches the highest realm, the seven emotions and six desires are cut off and the “five aggregates”—sensation, perception, volition, consciousness, and form—are all empty. It is just as the Yellow Emperor says in the Yellow Emperor's Classic of the Hidden Talisman (Yinfu Jing): “The blind hear well; the deaf see well. Cutting off gain at its single source is ten times better than employing an army; turning back three times, day and night, is ten thousand times better than employing an army.”

At that point all entanglements vanish and one’s intent is wholly sincere, so that later heaven returns to prior heaven—what the elixir scriptures often call returning the emotions to one’s nature. In the human body, the Great Tao makes form and spirit both wondrous, the realm of merging with the Tao in truth, and at that point all the potential of the human body will appear. Whatever wondrous functions the Tao has, the human body likewise possesses. As the Zhuangzi (True Classic of Southern Florescence) describes this realm: On the distant Gushe Mountain there lives a divine being, with skin like ice and snow, gentle and graceful as a maiden. He does not eat the five grains, but inhales the wind and drinks the dew; he rides the clouds and mist, drives flying dragons, and roams beyond the four seas. His spirit is concentrated, so that things are kept free from sickness and plague and the harvest ripens every year… This man, with this virtue of his, will embrace the myriad things and make them one. The world longs for order, so why should he wear himself out over the affairs of the world! As for this man, nothing can harm him: though floodwaters reach the sky he will not drown; though a great drought melts metal and stone and scorches the earth and hills, he will not feel the heat.

So if one wishes to succeed in cultivating the Tao, one must strengthen Taoist conduct, and the first precondition for strengthening Taoist conduct is strictly keeping the Taoist precepts. Otherwise it is “climbing a tree to look for fish,” and one can never attain the fruit of the Tao.