Miracle Tales of Kannon (観音--”Sound Perceiver”), the Bodhisattva of Compassion, have been a constant feature of Japanese Buddhism since its first introduction to Japan from the Korean Peninsula and China. The Nihon Ryōiki, a 9th Century collection of Buddhist tales of karmic reward and retribution, features several Kannon stories. These always follow a familiar framework: someone in trouble asks Kannon for help, and the help they need arrives.
In one story, a monk borrows money from his temple coffers that he cannot repay. With the government breathing down his neck about the missing cash, he goes to a temple where Kannon is enshrined and begs her, simply, “Please, give me some money!” Just at that moment, a passing prince hears the desperation in his prayers, asks his disciple what’s the matter, and when he hears the situation he offers to pay all the monk’s debts.
The stories are often bare-bones like this: so simple that they seem anticlimactic, featuring simple answers to mundane prayers for money, food, children, or avoiding disaster. The supplicant is often just praying to a statue, and usually help comes in the form of the right person stopping by at just the right time, or a tiny voice of intuition pointing in the right direction. Other tales have similar miraculously-timed passers-by mysteriously disappearing, or masquerading as people who later turn out to have not been involved. Often, though not always, the tales end with the main character’s faith and devotion in Kannon being redoubled as a result of their experience.
Though the modern versions of such miracle stories are harder to come by in an increasingly irreligious Japan, books of them are still common in Taiwan and elsewhere, and almost always follow a similar framework. Reports such as those included in the book Kuan-yin by Professor Chün-Fang Yü tell of people undertaking pilgrimages and other practices after being saved from illness, drowning in water or debt, and a variety of other kinds of ruin.
The source text for East Asian faith in Kannon, the 25th Chapter of the Lotus Sutra, describes Kannon’s power in the same way as these tales. Kannon is capable of taking exactly the form necessary, whether god, man, or beast, to save someone who calls on her. Indeed, anyone in trouble has only to “Recall Kannon’s Power” and they will be saved from every kind of psychological and physical tribulation. While the scripture itself definitely influenced faith in Kannon as Buddhism spread East, I think it’s equally fair to say that the scripture is probably the result of stories of Kannon’s saving power circulating in India, itself a compilation of miracle tales.
The enduring popularity of such tales over the centuries proves that they played an important role in the faith and devotion of people in the past. While they continue to do so in some countries today, many people in both the West and in Japan poo-poo miracle tales as coincidence and exaggeration. In spite of the obvious faith of the authors who record them, the nature of many of the stories certainly leaves open the possibility for naturalistic explanations, and of course we can always just dismiss them as fiction if we’re so inclined.
In the Lotus Sutra, Kannon is portrayed not only as a universal savior, but as an ideal practitioner. The Buddha says, “The sea of his innumerable blessings is immeasurable; therefore you should bow your head to him!” Though we have every reason to believe that the Buddha and the experiencers and recorders of Kannon’s tales believed literally in her power, dismissing their stories as symbolic or fictional still leaves Buddhists to contend with this question: What does it mean to be like Kannon?
Read with this question in mind, miracle stories can serve as guiding lights on our Buddhist journey. I’m always particularly struck by the fact that Kannon doesn’t seem to care who’s praying. In the Nihon Ryōiki, alongside stories of committed ascetics and generous maidens, we also find tales of shacked-up lovers, embezzling monks, and guilty criminals facing execution. Confronted with calamity, they cry out sincerely to Kannon. The starting point of these stories, and of modern ones, is the problem someone faces.
How do we react when faced with similar pleas? If my best friend was broke and asked me for some money to pay for food and some medical bills, it would be pretty easy to say yes. But say someone I wasn’t close to asked for the same thing. Though I might smile and agree to help them, I might also start thinking, “What’s in it for me?” And say someone who had deeply wronged me was in similarly dire straits. I don’t know about you, but my first thought would likely be, “That guy doesn’t deserve my help, he deserves to suffer.” Though we all share a basic capacity for generosity and can express it for those close to us, we soon find ourselves confronted by an intricate maze of walls that separate us from others. It’s these walls, Buddhism tells us, that cause our suffering, and transcending them is the object of our practice.
Kannon’s full Sino-Japanese name, Kanjizai, means “Perceiver of the World’s Sounds.” The original Sanskrit, Avalokiteshvara, means “Seeing Lord.” The implication of both of these names is that Kannon’s eons of Buddhist practice have left her totally free from the obstructions that block us from responding to someone’s needs. To Kannon, there is no friend and enemy, no stranger, no self or other. To Kannon, everyone is as intimately Kannon as she herself. Dōgo, a Chinese monk, expressed this by saying, “[Kannon] is like someone in the night whose hand reaches behind himself, groping for a pillow.”
I think this is why, at the end of every story, Kannon never seems to make a second appearance. Miracle tales of other religions often feature a climactic scene where the angel or saint comes down and either praises the faith and right action of a person, or scares the bejeezus out of them and convinces them to change their ways. Kannon offers no such admonishments. The person reflecting on Kannon’s qualities even for a moment opens a door to compassion that is a sufficient catalyst for change in its necessary measure. Opening that door has the capacity to bring peace where there was anxiety, relief where there was suffering, and assurance where there was fear. It’s not that there are no strings attached, it’s that recalling Kannon reveals that reality is an infinite knot of equal relationships best navigated through compassion.
This means that when we remember Kannon, when we overcome hatred to practice generosity, when we go about our day ready to respond to cries for help, when we offer aid while reminding ourselves that another’s happiness is, fundamentally, our happiness, we are practicing Kannon. Reflecting on Kannon’s qualities and undertaking even simple practices of generosity and kindness inspired by her allow us to participate in reality as it is, in Kannon’s enlightenment.
In my experience, approaching Buddhist practice in this way, as a process of integration with the Buddhas by making a habit of calling their qualities to mind, is truly life-changing. One way that I put this into practice is by reciting the Ten Verse Kannon Sutra. This short text was the first prayer in Sino-Japanese I memorized over ten years ago. Its origin story lies in 5th Century China. The story goes that the night before a prisoner was to be executed, he had a dream that someone told him to chant the Kannon Sutra (which usually refers to the 25th Chapter of the Lotus Sutra) 1,000 times. Protesting that he couldn’t even remember the lengthy sutra, much less chant it 1,000 times before dawn, the person in the dream taught him this ten-line sutra. The next day, the executioner’s sword broke on his neck, and the King who ordered him executed spared his life after hearing his story. I try to make this sutra the first conscious thought I have every morning and the last one I have before I go to sleep. I hope that it benefits you as much as it has me.
観世音 KAN ZE ON
南無仏 NA MU BUTSU
与仏有因 YŌ BUTSU U IN
与仏有縁 YŌ BUTSU U EN
仏法僧縁 BUP-PŌ SŌ EN
常楽我浄 JŌ RAKU GA JŌ
朝念観世音 CHŌ NEN KAN ZE ON
暮念観世音 BŌ NEN KAN ZE ON
念念従心起 NEN NEN JU SHIN KI
念念不離心 NEN NEN FU RI SHIN
Kanzeon,
I take refuge in the Buddhas.
There is a cause linking me to the Buddhas.
There is a condition linking me to the Buddhas.
From conditions linking me to the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha,
Samadhi, bliss, and purity of self!
In the morning, remember Kanzeon,
In the evening, remember Kanzeon.
Each remembrance arises in mind,
Each remembrance is not separate from Mind.
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