It is now my great pleasure to introduce Dr. Robert Mayer, the convenor of this Treasure Seminar Series.
Of course, Rob hardly needs any introduction.
He is well known as an expert in the Tibetan tantric traditions, with a particular focus on the Nyingma tantras, and on Buddhism.
During the time of the Tibetan Empire.
This academic education started with a BA at Bristol, where he studied with such well-known authorities as Paul Williams and Stephen Collins.
He completed a Ph.D. at Leiden, for which his main influences, as you wrote to me,
included Tilman Fitter, Alexis Sanderson, Dan Martin, Gyurme Dorje and Cathy Cantwell.
Rob Mayer has spent most of his academic career at Oxford with shorter periods in the School of Anthropology at the University of Kent,
as a visiting professor at Humboldt University in Berlin and as a fellow of the Käte Humburger Kolleg at Ruhr University Bochum in Germany.
Most of his research focuses on the early Nyingma tradition, and he has collaborated with his wife, Catherine Cantwell, both on many publications.
Their books include, amongst others,
the publication of early Tibetan documents on phur pa from Dunhuang and the Noble Noose of Methods a Mahāyoga Tantra and its commentary.
Together with Anna Sehnalova,Yegor Grebnev,Robert Mayer is a convenor of the Oxford Treasure
Seminar Series. Previous seminar series held at Merton and Wolfson College in Oxford,
looked at Tibetan and other Asian treasure traditions in a comparative perspective.
This year's Treasure Series is the first to focus on Indian Buddhist traditions.
The series will now be rounded off by Robert Mayer's talk, which is titled dharmabhāṇakas,
Siddhas, Avatārakasiddhas, and gTer stons. We look very much forward.
Few would argue with the proposition that Mahāyāna Buddhism and its tantric offshoots were religions based on the revelation of scriptures.
Even the most conservative traditional Buddhist masters will often concede
that while sūtras, dhāraṇīs and tantras generally purport ultimately to be
taught by the historical Buddha, they had to reach as far as circuitous route that
require an additional and subsequent act revelation into our Jambudvīpa.
Perhaps I should share my screen, actually. I think we're still on.
For the sake of the recording, we I think we're going to have to start again. Because I can't share my screen, I can only share your screen.
That's more like it. Okay, I'm going to go back to the beginning.
No, I still can't reach my. I can't reach my, I've only got your.
Screen Ulrike. Let me try again.
We've got this. I don't think there's anything I can do about it.
So let's see. OK, now we can do something about it.
So few would argue with the proposition that Mahāyāna Buddhism and its tantric offshoots were religions based on the revelation of scriptures,
even the most conservative traditional Buddhist masters will often concede that while sūtras,
dhāraṇīs and tantras generally purport ultimately to have been taught by the historical Buddha,
they had to reach us via circuitous routes that required an additional and subsequent act of revelation into our Jambudvīpa.
Oh. Is it recording?
I do wish Daniel was here. It is recording, Rob, it says it is recording.
OK, good. The recording button is on. OK, good. We can all see you and we can see your slides.
OK. Mahāyāna history in South Asia was therefore the history of more than a thousand years of continuous,
ongoing revelation of scriptures previously unheard by humans,
beginning with the earliest Mahāyāna sūtras up to the final revelations of the late tantric period.
The ongoing revelation of scriptures is surely amongst the most definitive and significant features of South Asian Buddhism,
without which it would have been a very different religion.
If you want to understand South Asian Buddhism at all, understanding its processes of ongoing scriptural revelation is surely indispensable.
Because ongoing revelation of scriptures was so integral to Indian Mahāyāna,
it's hard to imagine how it could have failed to impact on Tibetan Buddhism, too, like their counterparts in China,
Tibetan Buddhists must immediately have been confronted in the Mahāyāna scriptures.
They translated with numerous narratives,
describing prophetic declarations made by the Buddha about the future propagation to the sūtras by reincarnation
dharmabhāṇakas who would appear after his parinirvāṇa more frequently than their Chinese counterparts,
especially through the first few centuries of Tibetan Buddhism.
Numerous Tibetan scholars and translators visiting South Asia must also have encountered actual practises of ongoing tantric revelation,
which continue to pace at notably and holy places geographically proximate to Tibet, such as Oḍḍiyāna and Bengal.
The prolific nature of such revelations in Sanskrit Buddhism should not be underestimated.
Excluding dhāraṇīs and later Nepali revelations, Isaacson and Sferra estimate around 5000 original tantric scriptures.
With South Asian origins remain extant.
Some in Sanskrit, others only in Tibetan and Chinese translations produced over the roughly 500 years from the 6th to the 11th centuries.
This gives a very approximate,
Average frequency of around one script revelation, every event, one scriptural revelation event per annum through five centuries.
The real figure was probably higher since more texts were revealed than the 500 which survive.
And because the Sanskrit tradition resembled its Tibetan successors in re-repeating the same scripture to different persons on different occasions.
Scripture revelations continues in Nepal after the decline of Buddhism in the Indian heartlands,
Isaacson and Sferra observe the compilation of tantric scriptures seems to have continued in Nepal, almost up to modern times.
Some were influential, such as the 15th century revelations of the Svayambhū Purāṇa and the Gunakāraṇḍavyūha .
The former remains the basis for all the extensive vajra practises in contemporary Newari Buddhism and the latter for the important cult of Lokeśvara.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Dunhuang's sources witness a number of indigenous Tibetan tantric scriptures appearing
by the 10th century showing that Tibetan soon produce their own revelations.
It's likely they began by adapting the methods of the Indian teachers since at least one or two centuries Tibetan scriptural revelation was
contemporaneous with tantric revelation still occurring in India and early Tibetan scriptures were closely modelled on Sanskrit tantra,
albeit with some degree of localisation. Robert, have you deliberately stopped screen sharing?
Yeah, I'll come to another slide later.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, more surprisingly, little study has yet been made of the impacts of Sanskrit revelatory practises on Tibet.
The first phase of Tibetan revelation was characterised by the anonymous production of tantric scriptures in genres.
First witnessed at Dunhuang, later preserved in the rNying ma'i rgyud 'bum canon
Little has been written about this early phase, although it surely, surely influenced later developments.
There is also clear overlap of style and content between the earlier anonymous rNying ma tantras and the later gter ma texts
It is even claimed that the rNying ma rGyud 'bum unimaginable and provides the measure by which the validity of gter ma is assessed.
Any gter ma diverging too far from the Nyingma rgyud 'bum's doctrinal, ritual, and iconographic norms might not be deemed valid.
Likewise, some new MEGABOOM texts can simultaneously be classified as gter ma.
For example, the root tantras of Myang ral Nyi ma 'Od zer's bka' brgyad bde gshegs 'dus pa. And gter stons are still revealing and gter stons are still revealing tantras in the genre of the rNying ma rGyud 'bum texts.
Yet all we currently know about this first key phase of Tibetan revelations is
that they resemble their South Asian counterparts in being largely anonymous,
but in the similar styles and contents of their output.
The second phase of revelation, known as gter ma, was no longer anonymous in this, it differed from most Indian Buddhist revelation,
but resembles a contemporaneous revelatory practise of nearby Kashmir, where many Tibetans were studying in its Buddhist monasteries.
In this Kashmiri tradition of revelation, chiefly associated with the nondual Shaiva traditions like the kaula,
but also, with some Buddhist examples publicly named scripture revealers became the new norm.
Typically, the Śaivas revealed new tantric scriptures in their holy place of Uḍḍiyāna.
The nascent Tibetan gter ma system likewise prominently referenced Uḍḍiyāna, citing Uḍḍiyāna.
dakinis as agents of revelation and Padmasambhava of Uḍḍiyāna as the patron of revelation.
But differed by developing other, more specifically Buddhist narratives too.
Above all, Tibetan gter stons adapted the aforementioned Mahāyāna literary device of prophetic declarations made by the Buddha regarding the future
propagations of the sūtras by reincarnated dharmabhāṇakas as appearing after his parinirvāṇa.
Localising this Mahāyāna trip to Tibet and spun narratives of prophesied,
reincarnated gter stons discovering sacred texts hidden for later recovery by major Buddhist missionaries to Tibet.
Notably Vimalamitra and above all, Padmasambhava who now stood in for the Buddha.
Similarly, Atiśa was said to have discovered such texts in Tibet. Fortunately, the major scholar of gter ma's origins, Ronald Davidson,
has consistently understood it as a product of both Indian and Tibetan influences.
Less fortunate. Perhaps he never found much time to enlarge of the Indian aspects, mainly focussing on the non-Buddhist indigenous aspects.
This is understandable. First, it continues the conversation begun by Erik Haarh in the 1960s and continued by Michael Aris in the 1980s.
Secondly, the Tibetan aspects are more elusive than the Indian ones because little textual evidence for them survives.
Exploring them has thus become an intriguing intellectual challenge that few authors can resist.
I confess to being no exception, and I'm developing a major collaborative work on the vital non-Buddhist indigenous influences on the gter ma tradition.
However, a discussion that merely acknowledges Indian influences without actually examining them is manifestly incomplete.
So far, insufficient studies have tackled the Indian influences.
And despite Davidson's and Janet Gyatso's assertions of their importance, most authors still overlook them.
Obviously, it would be retrograde in the extreme to try to reduce Tibetology to an appendage of Indology, as it sometimes was in its early days.
But to ignore the extraordinarily creative civilizational exchanges that occurred
between Tibet and South Asia over many centuries would equally be a missed opportunity.
This was a rare interaction between two exceptionally vibrant cultural spheres, the study of which offers numerous insights.
We will therefore invest a proportionate effort into researching South Asian
influences on gter ma, too, for if we don't know what came with Sanskrit Buddhism.
How can we differentiate what was indigenous and Tibetan? Moreover, South Asian and indigenous elements tended to merge,
like the ingredients of a cake after baking, and they've proven very difficult to reverse engineer.
Our efforts should therefore not attempt the impossible by presuming to isolate indigenous aspects from the outset.
Rather, we should adopt a more holistic perspective that accepts the admixture of South Asian and indigenous cultures as our point of departure.
Fortunately, restoring this perspective should not prove difficult,
since the thus far ignored South Asian influences on gter ma appear easy to access from a plethora of excellent
textual sources in both Sanskrit and Tibetan translation in Indologists might even find them obvious.
Certainly, my undemanding and simple efforts cannot be compared with the brilliance and virtuosity demanded of scholars like Davidson and Guntram Hazod,
who have done so much to infer the altogether more elusive non-Buddhist indigenous
influences on gter ma from sometimes little more than circumstantial evidence.
But in a paper in press, I start by reflecting on the translation of the Indian term nidhi into the Tibetan word gter.
The word gter is not evident in old Tibetan before its usage in Buddhist translations.
Joanna Bialek therefor speculates it might have been a Buddhist neologism specifically created to translate the Sanskrit term dGe bshes Po to ba.
I continued by looking at Guru Chos dbang's comprehensive explorations of the full range of meanings of this translational term gter and
how he seeks to understand it in the light of the complex Indian understandings which Sanskrit original nidhi being Buddhist, Chos dbang,
like his successors Ratna gling pa and Urgyen Lingpa upholds the old Indian Buddhist enumeration of nidhi as fourfold,
distinct from the ninefold enumerations favourite by Brahmans and Jains.
The Buddhist fourfold enumeration is very old,
described in such varied texts as the Mūlasarvāsstivādin Vinaya, the Divyāvadāna, Mahāvastu, Pali commentaries,
the Khotanese book of Zambasta, the Vimalakīrti Nirdeśa sūtra, Maitreyavyākaraṇa,
the karmaśataka, and plenty more. But the inquisitive Chos dbang went much further.
I think it seems consulting the Tibetan translation of the Amarakoṣa lexicon,
since his exhaustive analysis also subsumes popular Indian understandings of the famous nine nidis,
as found in such texts as the Amarakoṣa, or the 12th century Jain Hemachandra's Triṣaṣṭiśalākāpuruṣacaritra.
I also translate 16 pages from the Indian Buddhist Āryavidyottamamahātantra on the finding and opening of treasure doors or gter sgo,
one among dozens of passages on nidhi and Buddhist kriyātantras.
It describes gter sgo as complex and varied magical portals whose hidden
location is disclosed to yogins in dreams by treasure deities.
Although guarded by dangerous spirits, great yogis can nevertheless magically open and reclose to access their treasures.
Such material was very influential in the Tibetan gterma tradition.
This particular passage has also extensive parallels with the nidhi śāstras, the manuals of the nidhivādas,
the typically tantric treasure hunters of mediaeval India who recovered hidden
treasures caused by territorial deities from the landscape and the elements,
as well as from old temples, lingas, religious statues and the like.
Although often typified as Pāśupata, Nalini Balbir reports that their śastras very prominently reference the Buddhist figure Nāgārjuna.
In a further paper in press, I evaluate Padmasambhava as a siddha, some within the tantric
culture of his native Uḍḍiyāna, a task never previously attempted.
Although the term "siddha" might seem familiar, as we learned from John Nemec last month.
Appearances can be deceptive because "siddha" had rather differing implications in different genres of Sanskrit literature.
In earlier texts,
such as the Epics, Purāṇa, and in Kāvya siddhas were mythic semi-divine beings who lived in the sky comparable to ghandharvas
yakṣas, and devas. In later centuries, Buddhas understood siddhas mainly as human beings who achieved realisation through tantric practise.
But in Kashmir's nondual Shaiva traditions, the term was more complex.
While some siddhas could approximately resemble the Buddhist definition, others were much more, divine non-humans primordially realised from the start.
They merely adopted the guise of human siddhas to descend from an exalted spiritual plane to specific geographical locations in the Kashmir region,
notably with Uḍḍiyāna. for the express purpose of disseminating previously unheard tantric scriptures.
The term applied to such primordially realised siddhas descended from on high to disseminate tantric scriptures was avatāraka,
which Sanderson translates as promulgator and Williams as agent of Revelation.
Another term used was avatīrṇa implying Siva descended to Earth.
Some avatāraka siddhas were hugely important as sources of entire tantric dispensations. Jayaratha
for example, described Matsyendranātha also as the sole source of revelation of the entire kaula tradition.
While Abhinavagupta described Tryambaka,
Āmardaka, and Śrinātha as the respective founders of the nondual, dual, and non-dual-cum-dual teachings of Śiva.
Despite being heavily mythologised,
most modern scholars believe the avatāraka siddhas were historical persons and Kalhaṇa’s 12th century history of Kashmir.
The Rājataraṅgiṇī, mentions them.
It's still not clear to me if some version of the avatāraka siddha trope already accompanied Padmasambhava when he came to Tibet,
or if it was retrospectively applied to him in later years. But the more I reflect, the more confident I am that the mythology of Padmasambhava,
as preserved in Tibet reflects the cultural backdrop of the Kashmiri avatāraka siddha.
It's equally striking how the first emergence of named avatāraka siddhas in Kashmir
and of name gter stons in nearby Tibet were historically near contemporaneous,
and that the mythology of the Tibetan gter stons refers so repeatedly to Uḍḍiyāna.
Again, Tibetology has sought for many years, but without complete success to understand the Padmasambhava and related gter ma
mythology exclusively through the prism of Tibetan history and Tibetan culture.
Again, these tasks might have been eased a bit by considering from the outset the distinctive Kashmiri cultural background as well.
Still awaiting my attention is a comparison of the constant reference, references to dakinis in the Tibetan gter ma,
tradition with a prominent role of dakinis in Indian vajrayāna revelation.
The rest of today's presentation will return to the Mahāyāna theme of dharmabhāṇakas reincarnating into future times to propagate sūtras.
They had first heard directly from the Buddha in his own lifetime and how it came
to play a highly visible role in the construction of Tibetan gter ma narratives.
This also commits me to correct a mistake I make in a recent article Rethinking Treasure Part
One where I gave a brief preview of this topic in advance of a more detailed study.
In Rethinking Treasure Part One, I described things shaped by an Indian Mahāyāna Sūtra,
the Pratyutpanna-buddha-saṃmukhāvasthita-samādhi-sūtra, henceforth Pratyutpanna and the Tibetan gter ma traditions.
The Pratyutpanna has been extensively studied by Paul Harrison,
and much of its materials on the concealment and revelation of Mahāyāna sūtras do indeed
find striking parallels in Tibetan tTer ma traditions so that my analysis was partially correct.
However, I also made a naive mistake. I mentioned the Pratyutpanna was somehow unique or at least rare in containing such narratives.
On the contrary, as we learnt from David Drewes last week, the scenario described in the Pratyutpanna is neither rare nor unique.
The diametric opposite is actually the case. This narrative structure is so commonplace in Mahāyāna sūtras,
so ubiquitous, that it constitutes David Drewes has termed the standard claim
of Mahāyāna sūtra literature and is replicated in dozens of different Mahāyāna,
sūtras as a prime method of explaining their existence. As David Drewes explained,
the standard claim is that the Buddha spoke the sūtras to Bodhisattvas during his final
life and appointed them with a task of returning to this world to reveal them 500 years later.
This scenario was actually presented already Aṣṭasāhasrikā.
Numerous Mahāyāna sūtras contain self-referential narratives intended to explain their own existence,
a necessity since Mahāyāna sūtras were not passed down through the traditional āgamas or nikāyas,
it nevertheless claimed to be the Buddha's own speech. The internal logic of these narratives partly resembles that of the Jātakas.
The stories of the Buddhist past lives with similar themes of karmic cause and effect, of travel through time, and of reincarnation.
But the Mahāyāna sūtra narratives focus specifically on how the sūtras will continue to be propagated after the Buddha's nirvana.
The Pratyutpanna's narratives to this effect, are typical of many others,
most occurs in Chapter 13, which opens with interlocked, interlocutor,
a layman Bhadrapāla asking the Buddha, "Reverend Lord, at a future time in that age following the nirvana of the Tathāgata,
Will this samādhi of the Pratyutpanna Sūtra spread here Jambudvīpa?"
The Buddha replies that, while the samādhi of the Pratyutpanna Sūtra will continue to circulate for a while after his
nirvana, at a later date copy of it will have to be sealed within caskets,
sgrom bu, and hidden in caves, stūpas, rocks, and mountains where they will be protected by nāgas and such like deities. Then says the Buddha,
the disastrous last 500 years. When true dharma is in decline and false dharma and bad morality prevail,
a few beings of exceptional merit and karma will deliberately appear specifically to recover the Pratyutpanna from its hiding places.
These special persons will rediscover the Pratyutpanna, make copies of it, study it and expound it to others.
While hearing this from the Buddha, the interlocutor,
Bhadrapāla, and his layman colleagues were deeply moved and made a mighty aspiration that they should be the ones to reincarnate
into that dreadful last 500 years to recover the Pratyutpanna from its places of concealment and teach it to others.
But they were not unaware of the gravity of the undertaking and the difficulties with which it would be fraught for,
as they observed, they would be proclaiming teachings that would not have been heard before
and preaching a profound dharma in which the inhabitants of future times might not believe.
Others in the audience exhorted the Buddha to entrust to Pratyutpanna,
these noble volunteers so that they could fulfil their great aspiration, which the Buddha duly did.
The Buddha then made precise prophecies, specifying the eight named individuals within his audience who would be the ones to
reincarnate in the future to uphold the Pratyutpanna and enlarged on the vast merits.
They would thereby acquire. Although are a layman, there is no mention of what their status was to be when they reincarnate,
the Buddha then prophesied that a further 500 persons within his audience would also reincarnate in these future times to receive,
make copies of, and further propagate Pratyutpanna teachings recovered by the reincarnations of the eight laymen.
The similarities of this narrative to Tibetan gter ma narratives are self-evident.
I set them out in more detail in the handout, which is the same as the last three screens.
Those unfamiliar with Tibet-- the handout is in the chat, those unfamiliar with Tibetan gTer ma should mainly remember a few key substitutions.
Firstly, the location is moved from Jambudvīpa in general to Tibet in particular.
Secondly, important Buddhist missionaries to Tibet notably Vimalamitra and above all,
the second Buddha Padmasambhava have become substituted for the Buddha of the Mahāyāna texts.
Thirdly, the close students of these missionaries, especially those of Padmasambhava,
were accordingly become the ones prophesied to reincarnation in the future to revive the teachings.
And along with this basic narrative framework, some of the less crucial details and items of terminology are also adopted.
My analysis in Rethinking Treasure Part One was therefore partly correct.
There are striking parallels between the narratives of the Pratyutpanna and Tibetan gTer ma.
However, I fail to realise the extent to which the Pratyutpanna's
narratives are typical of Mahāyāna sūtras in general. As David Drewes has explained,
such narratives are the standard claim of Mahāyāna sūtra literature replicated across numerous sūtras to explain their existence,
although not always the same in every detail, the basic structure remains constant in most cases.
More pertinently, we can certainly say that many of the famous sūtras,
best known to early Tibetan Buddhism, carry such themes, often quite prominently. The Akṣayamatinirdeśa,
The Aṣṭasāhasrikā, the Kāraṇḍavyūha,, the Saddharmapuṇḍarīka, the Samādhirāja, the Suvarṇabhāsottara,, the Pratyutpanna,
The Vimalakīrti, and more that I'm not yet aware of.
With Tibetan gTer ma literature came to reproduce a conspicuous Mahāyāna sūtra literary trope,
again this is not down to the disproportionate influence of a single text, but rather the pervasive cultural influence of the entire Sūtra genre.
Since this is the case, it becomes much easier to understand what I previously found puzzling.
How, when, and why did such narratives become appropriated into Tibetan gter ma literature?
To approach these questions,
it's best to begin by investigating the nature of Tibetan engagement in Buddhist scholarship in the period leading up to the first appearances of gter ma,
which Dan Martin has established as not later than the final decades of the 10th century.
The recent conference presentation Ulrike Roesler explains that before the 11th century,
and especially during the so-called early dissemination of the dharma in Tibet, the Mahāyāna sūtra corpus dominated Tibetan Buddhist scholarship.
She observed that Mahāyāna sūtras made up approximately two thirds of all texts listed in the two early imperial translational catalogues,
the Ldan dkar ma and ‘Phang thang ma, she continued with these words
"In addition to the sheer predominance of sūtra over śastra in terms of numbers,
we are also informed in a document from the Tibetan Imperial Court the two sūtras, the Ratnameghasūtra,
and the Laṅkāvatārasūtra sūtra were amongst the earliest text translated into Tibetan,
and the vocabulary used became normative for subsequent translations. It is therefore evident that during the eighth and ninth centuries,
Mahāyāna sūtras were given pride of place among the Buddhist texts received from India and elsewhere.
They were amongst the first Buddhist texts to be translated.
They form the largest group of texts amongst the Buddhist translations, and they are listed first in the imperial catalogues.
It was not until the second translation period from the 11th century onwards that there was a noticeable shift away from the Mahāyāna,
sūtras and towards the later stages of tantric literature on the one hand, and scholastic literature on the other."
Roessler acknowledges the Buddhist translations were an elite activity sponsored by the royal
court and that on the ground Tantric Buddhism was also practised by often hereditary lay householder.
lineages, some of which might have been influential,
but that in no way detracts from her main point that the period is characterised by the considerable
impact of Mahāyāna sūtras amongst those actively involved in the dissemination of Buddhist texts.
Since those were the greatest and most revered part of the Buddhist translations available at the time.
Named gter stons began to appear in the tenth and early 11th century, probably building on an already existing tradition.
Certainly, gShen chen klu dga' in the early 11th century describes a gTer ma culture already complex and mature,
which cannot have been very new in his own time.
It therefore seems highly probable that the first gter stons emerged from an intellectual environment preceding the 11th century shift.
That Roesler describes. In other words, from an intellectual environment where the study of Mahāyāna sūtras was still paramount.
And what is so striking about the various early extant Buddhist gTer mas is precisely the prominence within them of Mahāyāna motifs.
Two of the earliest surviving Buddhist gTer mas, the bKa' 'chems kha khol ma and the Maṇi bka' 'bum
were both allegedly found in the Jokhang in Lhasa, notionally in the 11th century.
They share overlapping text present, the first great topic religious king, Srong btsan sGam po as an emanation of Avalokiteśvara, bodhisattva of compassion.
He was to become the patron deity of Tibet.
Both these influential early gTer mas, therefore, drew substantially from a famous Mahāyāna sūtra, the Kāraṇḍavyūha,
which introduced for an Indian public, is a cult of Avalokiteśvara and his mantra oṃ maṇi padme hūṃ.
The Maṇi bka' 'bum has even been described as a reformulation of the Kāraṇḍavyūha for a
Tibetan audience to convey its message of devotion to Avalokiteśvara and his mantra.
The discovery of the Kachem Kakholma coma was attributed to Atiśa and hence the Kadampa school, but the Maṇi bka' 'bum is a composite gTer ma with three Nyingma discovers.
Grub thob dNgos grub, precise dates unknown. His student Myang ral Nyi ma 'Od zer 1124-1192
And Myang ral's spiritual successor, Guru Chos dbang, 1212 to 1270.
Certainly, the Maṇi bka' 'bum itself is often counted as the earliest extant, really important Nyingma gTer ma.
Yet it draws as heavily on sūtra themes as on tantric ones in contrast to subsequent Nyingma gTer mas, which are mostly tantric.
The same is true of the early Bon gTer stons, gShen chen klu dga', while his gTer mas included many genres of scripture.
The sūtra texts of his khams brgyad were by far the greatest in terms of sheer bulk.
It's significant to two of the Maṇi bka' 'bum's discovers, Myang ral and,
Chos dbang are also considered the earliest and most definitive codifiers of the Nyingma school of Buddhism.
Much of their codification is pertain to gTer ma,
including the first comprehensive literary formulations of the narrative structures that framed Nyingma gter ma discovery,
as well as complex theoretical explorations and practical advice. I'm referring here to such works as Myang ral's famous biography of Padmasambhava,
of Padmasambhava, the bKa' thang Zang glingma, his huge bka' brgyad bde gshegs 'dus pa, and Chowang's analysis of the
meaning of the word gter and the practise of its recovery in his gter 'byung chen mo.
This seems to indicate, what this seems to indicate is that the two great masters who did most to codify the Nyingma gter ma system were themselves
reasonably well versed in Mahāyāna sūtra literature because both were also directly involved in the production of a major gter ma,
the Maṇi bka''bum, that substantially depended on a Mahāyāna sūtra.
In addition, Myang ral, Myang ral
was the author of historical work such as the Chos 'byung me tog snying po brang rtsi'i bcud, that had much to say about general Buddhism India. In my view,
we therefore need not be surprised that Myang ral was also capable of adapting a Myang ral
prominent Mahāyāna sūtra literary motif for use at the very heart of his vision of gter ma.
Especially since, in all likelihood, there were already precedents for him to work from.
Nor need we be surprised that everyone referenced various Mahāyāna sūtra texts to his work, in his work.
Not everyone agrees with me, however, a colleague recently suggested that the Myang ral was so ignorant about sūtras that any similarities
between his vision of gter ma and Mahāyāna sūtra literary motifs could only be coincidental.
To my thinking. While Myang ral might show little sign of engagement in śastric Buddhist scholarship.
I don't think he was necessarily ignorant of Mahāyāna secret literature, which as all Ulrike Roesler points out,
remains a predominant field of Buddhist learning until very shortly before the Myang ral's own time.
For further circumstantial evidence, I can point to the example of Myang ral's older contemporary the bKa' gdams pa turned
bka' brgyud pa sGam po pa bsod nams rin chen, 1097-1153,
sGam po pa was commonly known as Zla 'od gzhon nu, or Chandraprabha Kumāra after the protagonist by
name in the Mahāyāna Samādhirāja sūtra in this influential sūtra, Chandra
Prabha kumāra is the principal interlocutor whom the prophesies will reincarnate as a dharma--
bhāṇaka in a future age to promote the teachings of the Samādhirāja after the Buddha's nirvana.
According to David Jackson, sGam po pa was recognised by his bKa' gdams pa teacher,
dGe bshes Po to ba, as the reincarnation of that very same Chandraprabha Kumāra from the Samādhirāja.
Thus, according to Jackson, sGam po pa's promotion of a controversial and uniquely sūtra based Mahāmudra
meditation system was interpreted by some of his contemporaries as deriving from the Samādhirāja,
which they believed sGam po pa specifically reincarnated to propagate.
Indeed, the central teaching of this Mahāyāna sūtra is a meditation on evenness or mnyam pa nyid, a key technical term in both Mahāmudrā and rDzogs chen.
Be that, as it may, we can see that classic Mahāyāna sūtra literary themes of prophecy,
reincarnation, and the revelation of previously concealed teachings definitely played a vital role in the tradition building.
In the tradition building, the characterised 12th century Tibet. In a lecture delivered in Paris on the 23rd of March, travelling in time,
the role of Jataka stories and prophecies in the construction of the bKa' gdams pa School,
Ulrike Roesler gave a fascinating account of the important role of certain classic
Indian Buddhist literary conventions in the tradition building texts of the bKa' gdams pas.
Specifically, she painted a compelling picture of how Jātaka and sūtra derived notions of vyākaraṇa time travel and
reincarnation were adapted for incorporation into the narratives of the Pha chos and Bu chos of the bKa' gdams pa glegs bam
And analysing the Sanskrit term vyākaraṇa, Roesler explains that it means rather more than its usual translation of prophecy.
Vyākaraṇa implies a broader understanding of causality through all the three times of past,
present and future a supernormal knowledge, abhijñā, or accessible only to
extremely advanced beings and a necessary component of a Buddha's omniscience.
And these bKa' gdams pa narratives, Atiśa thus assumes a role parallel to the Buddha of the Indian literary prototypes.
While Atiśa's leading disciples as roles parallel to those of the Buddha's leading disciples.
When Atiśa discloses his past and future births with these disciples to illustrate
their long-standing karmic destinies with his teachings through many lifetimes,
he thereby simultaneously signals his own Buddha-like knowledge of the three times.
Turning now to the most influential Tibetan gter ma tradition, the still thriving practises of the rNying ma pa school.
We again find such knowledge of the three times central to their narratives.
But as David Gray showed us three weeks ago, scriptural revelation in tantric Buddhism is often visionary in nature.
Hence, by the 12th century Nyingma gTer ma ideology had become articulated and codified into what I am very provisionally going to call a vision,
myth or maybe a vision narrative. I'm not sure yet. I'm referring here to the coherent and consistent,
but nevertheless, flexible mythic narrative structure woven around the life story of Padmasambhava which has determined
to shape and content of the visionary experiences of all Nyingma treasure founders since the 12th century.
By lending form to their visionary experiences, it has also shaped and predicted the content of the actual treasure discoveries.
In turn, the vision itself becomes reaffirmed,
perpetuated, and enriched with each subsequent visionary experience and with each subsequent treasure discovery.
Century after century. While this vision myth has perhaps served most prominently to underpin the ongoing revelations of new gter mas,
it simultaneously supports most, most other aspects of Nyingma ritual, practise, and identity.
Since these are often inseparably connected since these are often inseparably connected with treasure discovery and with Padmasambhava.
Anthropologists might detect some resemblance between my provisional terminology of vision,
myth or vision narrative, with the idea of the mystery proposed by the Canadian
anthropologist Kenelm Burridge and subsequently adapted by further anthropologists.
Recently, Charles Stewart used Burridge's ideas in his fascinating study of the key role played by communally occurring and,
communally curated religious streams in the miraculous rediscovery by a Greek Orthodox community of a series of
long hidden ancient sacred icons reputedly buried on the island of Naxos by ancient Christian refugees from Egypt.
These dreams were received by several different persons, continued over time and were characterised by a specific, coherent, repeated narratives.
They indicated to the villages where they should take to fund the icons. Well, illustrating their ancient origins and sacred power.
Today, after decades of sustained religious outpouring, these icons form the basis of one of the major pilgrimage sites in Greek Christianity.
The myth-dream Stewart describes in Naxos is not very unusual, and ethnographers have described comparable examples in various parts of the world.
It's remotely possible that David Drewes has termed the standard claim of the Mahāyāna sūtras was one such myth-dream,
since it worked as an implicit mythic structure that lent a unifying cohesion to the multifarious
revelations of Mahāyāna sūtras by different dharmabhāṇakas over long periods of time.
But what sets the Nyingma vision-myth apart from the dreams of most other cultures, including the Mahāyāna,
is a comprehensive manner in which it has been extracted from its wider contexts and developed into an independent theme,
moving from the implicit to the explicit becoming formally codified and organised being committed to writing not merely once,
but many times over and developed as a major literary genre in its own right.
As far as we currently know, the Nyingma vision-myth was first committed to writing in the twelfth century by Myang ral in his seminal bKa' thang Zang gling ma
Although Myang ral definitely drew on earlier sources.
In a variation on Po to ba's recognition of sGam po pa as the reincarnation of Chandraprabha Kumāra, and setting a precedent for all subsequent gter stons,,
Myang ral saw himself as a prominent figure from the vision-myth. He was the reincarnation Padmasambhava and Vimalamitra's most illustrious disciple, the emperor Khri srong lde btsan.
Hence, he was able to rediscover both of phur pa 'phrin las section and actually root tantras of the
bKa' brgyad bde gshegs 'dus pa cycle directly from the emperor's own personal manuscripts.
The very same manuscripts entrusted by Vimalamitra and Padmasambhava brought to the emperor 400 years previously and then concealed as gter ma.
Further iterations of the Nyingma vision-myth were subsequently committed to writing by numerous later masters, notably again, O rgyan gling pa's 14th century Padma bka' thang.
The Nyingma vision-myth became so influential that it now counts as a cultural property of all Tibetans, regardless of skills or lineage.
The name given to such text is bka' thang, which is difficult to translate.
Dictionaries give such words as order, edict, or command, but add that it usually refers to the biographies of Padmasambhava concealed as gter ma.
Treasures. The religious aspects of the bKa' thang genre remain less explored and historical.
Yet their primary function has always been religious, playing a key role in the inner religious lives of contemporary rNying ma pas.
It informs their meditative experiences, religious dreams and visions, while also shaping their revelations of gter ma.
Its relation to ritual performance is equally pronounced.
Whole episodes of the bka' thang can originated tantric ritual subsequently transcribed into symbolic narratives about Padmasambhava.
bKa' thang-based liturgies such as Rig 'dzin rgod ldem’s Le'u bdun ma are recited at the tenth day mtshogs, or gaṇacakra, which itself worships the Padmasambhava of the bka' thangs.
An interesting contrast to the dharmabhāṇakas performances described to us in February by Natalie Gummer.
One could cogently argue that the bka' thang narratives enjoy even more life than the countless liturgical and visionary and ritual manifestations,
than in the few famous hagiographies by Myang ral, O rgyan gling pa
In these intensely devotional narratives themselves mainly discover as gter ma as Padmasambhava is envisaged as the second Buddha,
a direct emanation of Amitābha, who takes miraculous birth, fully formed and fully enlightened upon a magical lotus on a lake in Uḍḍiyāna.
Like his avatāraka or avatīrṇa Śaiva counterparts his purpose in manifesting is to teach non-ideal tantras never previously heard by humans.
But he also has a special karmic relationship with Tibetans so that he can manifest teachings for them that no other nations have received.
Plus, the bka' thang texts usually placed special emphasis on his stay in Tibet with
a discussion of his prolific concealment of gter mas in the Tibetan landscape.
And here the bka' thang literature borrows a major narrative framework from the Mahāyāna sūtra literary conventions previously described. As a knower
Of the three times, the second Buddha, Padmasambhava, has the ability to understand all karmic causes and effects in the minutest
detail. Like the Buddha of the Mahāyāna sūtras,
He, too, can foresee the future vicissitudes of his teaching dispensation down to the smallest particulars.
Armed with that foresight, like the Buddha of the Mahāyāna sūtras, he can see that the teachings he has just given his disciples in 8th century
Tibet will need to be concealed for time and then re-revealed in future centuries.
Like the Buddha in the Mahāyāna sūtras,
Padmasambhava's knowledge of even the most minute workings of pratītyasamutpāda allow him to discern to which of his disciples he should,
at this moment entrust each particular teaching and in which particular future time
in which precise location in Tibet they must be reborn to recover those teachings.
He also knows exactly where, when and with which companions they should recover in those future lives,
like the Buddha's students in the Mahāyāna sūtras Padmasambhava’s students, too, are inspired,
to take mighty vows to be reborn in those future times to uphold the teachings with which Padmasambhava has entrusted them.
Accordingly, like the Mahāyāna sūtras bka' thang texts attribute prophecies to Padmasambhava
in which he discloses details about the future vicissitudes of his teachings, their concealment, his entrustment.
of those teachings to his close students,
the vows of those students to be reborn to propagate them in future lives, and many particulars about daily discoveries.
O rgyan gling pa's Pema bka' thang is perhaps the most famous for its sheer quantity of prophecies but all bka' thang texts describes them.
Turning from bka' thang ideology to the practical mechanics of revelation in Tibet,
we find that tantric and indigenous things play equally prominent roles, which we have no time to discuss here.
Nevertheless, I should mention that the outer classificatory envelope containing these mechanics once again adopts Mahāyāna categories as paramount.
Paul Harrison, who has researched Indian Mahāyāna scriptural revelation for many years,
he argues that its various mechanics of revelation are summarised in Shantideva's ŚikSasamuccaya
when it cites a passage from the Sarvapuṇyasamuccaya-samādhi-sūtra Harrison translates as follows:
"For, Vimalatejas, the Buddhas and Lords resident in other world systems show their faces to reverent and respectful bodhisattvas,
and mahāsattvas wanting the dharma, and they cause them to hear the Dharma.
Vimalatejas, treasures of the Dharma are deposited in the interiors of mountains,
caves and trees for bodhisattvas and mahāsattvas wanting the dharma and endless dharma teachings in book form.
Come into the hands. Vimalatejas, deities who have seen former Buddhas provide bodhisattvas and mahāsattvas wanting the dharma with the inspired eloquence of Buddhas."
A parallel tripart classificatory structure was applied to Buddhist revelation in Tibet through appropriation of the Mahāyāna schema,
although already apparent in early authors such as Guru Chos dbang, this classification to quite its present-day terminology.
More recently,
nowadays we know them as, firstly, dag snang or pure vision of meeting the Buddha face to face in a vision or dream and receiving teachings.
Secondly, Sa gter or Sa gter ma, earth treasure, meaning sacred texts concealed within the material world or in the environment.
And thirdly, dgongs gter or mind treasure a direct, divine inspiration of the mind committing the spontaneous, confident utterance of dharma.
To summarise, Tibetology is always claimed that Tibet's gter ma traditions grew from a mixing of indigenous and Indian influences.
Undoubtedly, both India and Tibet had their own treasured cultures that merged over time.
So far, however, the Indian influence have remained little explored. I hope to begin this exploration, and it promises to be interesting.
On the one hand, we believe there might have been some direct historical continuity between Indian and Tibetan
revelatory practises in the largely anonymous revelation of some early Nyingma tantras.
As careful calques of Sanskrit tantras, and largely based on reused Indian texts,
they were quite likely produced with the same revelatory methods still used at that time by Indian gurus.
By contrast, the slightly later gter ma system was a uniquely Tibetan melange of numerous sources with no precise counterparts anywhere else.
Unlike Indian Buddhism's largely anonymous dharmabhāṇakas and tantric siddhas it openly identified,
its text revealers mixing the contemporary contemporaneous tantric traditions of Kashmir
and India with powerful indigenous Tibetan elements in the spirit of 11th century Tibet.
It seems to draw these together within frame narratives inspired by Mahāyāna sūtra literary motifs long discontinued in India,
but which thereby found a remarkable new life in 10th century Tibet.
So, thanks. Thank you, Rob. That was fantastic.
That was beautifully clear, and I think after all the previous talks, I really enjoyed hearing how you fit it all together into a bigger picture.
So, thank you very much for that.