1. Introduction
“Where is Jiedi?” summoned Chan master Fahai and, after muttering a mantra, loudly shouted, “Go, quickly capture the Green Fish Monster for me! Have it change back to its original form with the White Snake! And listen to my judgment!’ After a gust of wind, a Green Fish fell from midair and the White Snake succubus manifested her ophidian form. They were then suppressed beneath the Thunder Peak Pagoda by West Lake in Hangzhou. When the two demons were reduced to their animal forms at the climax in the earliest iteration of the famed Legend of the White Snake (Baishe zhuan
Who is this spoiler of transspecies romance? What is his relationship with the mantra spoken by Fahai? How did he become entangled with snakes and fish? Some elements in this late imperial romance can be traced far back to the Tang dynasty (618–907). The Buddhist god Jiedi appears to be derived from arguably the second most “famous and oft-recited of Buddhist mantras”—gate gate pāragate pārasaṃgate bodhi svāhā (Chn. jiedi jiedi boluojiedi boluosengjiedi puti sapohe
However, overexposure leads to overshadowing. In contrast with the limelight the doctrine of emptiness has drawn to this short sūtra, the Jiedi Mantra, not to mention the Jiedi God, has received far less attention in scholarly literature.3 Yet the mantra and god have also contributed significantly to the popularity of the Heart Sūtra cult since the mid-seventh century. I will focus only on the Jiedi God in this article and reserve discussion of the mantra for a future treatment.
Contrary to the prevailing view that attributes the genesis of the Jiedi God solely to the Heart Sūtra, I argue that the Jiedi Mantra had an independent existence ever since the rainmaking spell for controlling nāgas or dragons in the Great Cloud Sūtra. It grew more popular with Xuanzang’s version of the Heart Sūtra, and acquired not only soteriological significance but also an aquatic setting through metaphorical mappings in the commentarial tradition. In response to the distressing practice of offering virgin girls as brides to snake spirits in China’s southwestern Sichuan, a regional variation of a cosmopolitan alchemical theme in which an elusive chthonic “game” is captured from a body of water through seduction and pursuit of a maiden on horseback, Buddhists wielded the Jiedi Mantra to combat serpents and abolish human sacrifices. From this intense struggle emerged the anthropomorphic Jiedi God in the Tang, who became associated with both war and water. The exorcistic function of the Jiedi Mantra was the motor behind its deification in the Middle Period. A Buddhist god with an Indian name and appearance, who is unattested in his supposed homeland, was thus born on Chinese soil. With the spread of tantric Buddhism, Jiedi was elevated from a mere spirit to a vidyārāja or wisdom king (mingwang
Drawing on a variety of sources, including Buddhist scriptures, exegetical works, local gazetteers, visual materials, anecdotal and tale literature, as well as Dunhuang and Yunnan manuscripts, I will start with a narrative trope that sees the Jiedi God killing local snakes and dragons to save virgins, move onto analyzing his origin in the rainmaking spell in the Great Cloud Sūtra and the soteriological significance of a particular form of Ocean-Cleaving Jiedi, then delve into his tantricization through examining two statues and their possible deployment in rituals, and finally discuss his sacred geography, network, and proliferation in vernacular fiction and drama in the late imperial period.
2. Snakes’ Brides
Why and how was an Indian god born on Chinese soil? A few miracle tales revolving around the killing of serpents and dragons have provided clues. An account of the origin of the Jiedi God can be found in the Dunhuang manuscript Pelliot chinois 3142 currently preserved at the Bibliothèque nationale de France (Figure 1)4
During the Dali era (766–779) of the Tang Dynasty, there was a river within the territory of Mount Wu County in the Gorges region. Next to the river there was a well, nearby which stood a temple known as the White Dragon Temple. Leaning against a precipitous cliff, the temple had a hall extending widely. The wind surrounded its wooden [pillars], and clouds enveloped its painted beams. Whoever visited it would feel chills, hair standing on end; none dared to look up [at the temple]. Despite being ruthless and evil, the spirit could answer prayers. Those who revered or disrespected it would witness fortune or misfortune. Consequently, it commanded the villagers to make sacrifices in the spring and autumn. For each sacrifice, it demanded wine, food, money, a white horse, and a virgin girl. If the offerings were complete, there would be harvest and peace; yet if there lacked even one item, it would inflict harm on the crops and people. As for the girls, every household of the village would take turns providing them.
When it later came to the turn of the villager Ding Hui, he had a daughter named Spring Damsel, who was twelve years old. Gentle and beautiful, she possessed a benevolent and amiable nature. Although her parents held her dear in their hearts, she could not escape being offered as sacrifice to the demon. When the time arrived, villagers and the relatives of Ding Hui sent Spring Damsel to the temple, accompanied by a white horse, wine, food, and money. After the completion of the sacrifice, they left her there and returned home.
Spring Damsel and the horse stood in front of the temple. Resentment gathered on her knitted brows like mist, and bitter tears stained her garment like blood. Until dusk fell, Spring Damsel was awakened in both body and mind. Knowing the compassion of the Buddha, she developed the intention to take refuge in him, in the hope that he might bestow salvation and protection. No sooner had she formed this thought than she suddenly saw an old man speak to her, “Just recite the Jiedi Mantra, and you will surely escape from the disaster”. Spring Damsel then followed the old man and chanted it fourteen times. Suddenly, she heard a sound as loud as thunder, as if heaven and earth were about to collapse. She then saw the old man transform into a god, who looked at the temple and shouted. With that shout, a huge white snake crawled out of the stone well. Several zhang long, it vomited blood and died. By the next dawn, Spring Damsel’s parents and the villagers came to the temple with the intention of burying her corpse, only to find Spring Damsel and the horse still alive. They inquired about the cause, and she recounted the incident in detail.
From this, we understand that righteousness will conquer evil, and that no monsters can prevail over the blessed. From this point on, all anomalies ceased to exist. Undoubtedly, this was thanks to the efficacy of the Jiedi Mantra. Consequently, a painting based on the form manifested [by the god] alongside the incident was submitted and distributed across the country to show what was seen and heard. Then the Mantra for Dispelling Misfortune was proclaimed.5
This miracle tale evokes the grim reality of human sacrifice that persisted in certain remote regions of the Tang Empire. The terror wrought by the white snake demon is mirrored by the setting of the cliffside temple. The very life of a virgin girl hangs there; the fear among the villagers is palpably chilling; and the illicit sacrifice exacts a heavy human and material toll on the local community. Ophidiophobia pervading the existential, psychological, social, and religious levels haunts all those affected. This represents the phenomenological reality of “killing people to sacrifice to demons” (sharen jiguiWhile we start to see sudden outpourings of records regarding human sacrifice and its repeated bans since the early Song period, the scarcity of such accounts during the Tang does not necessarily mean that the actual practice was less prevalent. Chinese intellectual historian Ge Zhaoguang attributes the reason why more such accounts are found in the Song to widespread and frequent civilizing projects endorsed by the Song court. The “civilization” as prescribed by state ideology extended from cities to the countryside, and from the Central Plains to remote areas. Ge points out perceptively that “an era in which an abundance of reports about ‘killing people to sacrifice to demons’ appears again in the historical records is precisely an era in which mainstream society is strongly resisting this kind of custom”. In other words, a cultural phenomenon only garners historical attention when it becomes aberrant and, as a result, moves into the foreground. Therefore, human sacrifice was not widely recorded by Tang historians precisely because it encountered no strong opposition.6
Building upon existing scholarship, I intend to highlight the distinct roles played by Tang and Song governments in human sacrifice, which might constitute another small piece of evidence for what is called the “Tang-Song transition”. In contrast to the repeated bans imposed by the Song court, medieval governments occasionally exhibited complicity in or even orchestrated human sacrifice. For instance, the well-known tale of “Li Ji, the Serpent-Slayer” (Li Ji zhanshe
What is unstated but commonly understood about virgin sacrifice in premodern China is that the Spring Damsel was offered as the bride of the white snake spirit. Ter Haar suggests that “the sacrificial marriage to divine beings” was probably intended as a form of ritual marriage rather than an actual full sacrifice (Ter Haar 2006, pp. 299–301; see also Sawada 1982, pp. 250–77). But why did sex come into play? I argue that the Spring Damsel tale is in fact a Sichuanese variation of a cosmopolitan alchemical theme that stretches from Ireland to East Asia along the Silk Routes. As David Gordon White demonstrates, this Eurasian lore often involves a virgin, a horse, and the capture of an elusive chthonic “game” from a well or a body of water (White 1996, pp. 203–6; see also White 1997, pp. 73–77). As a typical example, an Indian technique describes a maiden on horseback who lures mercury to rise out of its well, which chases her over mountains and valleys and is subsequently captured in troughs, displaying a strong overtone of sexual enticement and pursuit/fleeing. In the extraction process, the maiden is specified as a virgin who has reached menarche, apparently used as “bait” (White 1997, p. 76). The first occurrence of menstruation of Chinese girls is usually between twelve and thirteen years, precisely the age of the Spring Damsel in Sichuan and victims in the Li Ji story in Fujian. When this cosmopolitan alchemical theme reached Sichuan, the precious mercurial “game” metamorphosed into salt, and the baiting maiden in mercurial extraction became the victim bride of chthonic dragons guarding salt wells, as described in the following legend from a local gazetteer cited in Imperially Reviewed Encyclopedia of the Taiping Era (Taiping yulan
There is a well called Linjing
In the West Mountain of the Shu counties, there resides a huge python which sucks people away. Atop the mountain stands a shrine referred to as “the Spirit of the Western Mountain”. Annually, the natives would select a girl to be adorned by the shrine as the spirit’s wife (shenqi
After the [Northen] Zhou Dynasty pacified Shu, Yuwen Gui (?–568), Duke of Xu, assumed the role of governor in Yizhou. He sent up a petition to arrange a marriage between the two spirits, selected an [auspicious] day, played music, and sent the statue of the Jade Maiden as a companion for the Spirit of the West Mountain. Since then, these disturbances have ceased to occur.9
Originally, the consummation of spirit-human marriage connotes the consumption of boys and girls, carrying the aura of a fertility cult. Franciscus Verellen shows that the Lingjing Salt Well and the subsequent Lingzhou Prefecture were derived from Zhang LingThe Spring Damsel tale from the Three Gorges region in eastern Sichuan is actually the earliest extant one among three stories involving the killing of snakes to save virgins by the Jiedi God or Mantra. A second story, titled “The Holy Monk Who Kills a Flood Dragon by Wielding the Jiedi Mantra” (chi Jiedi zhou zhanjiao shengseng
During the Shengli era (698–700) of Emperess [Wu] Zetian’s reign in the Tang Dynasty, a flood dragon sometimes emerged from the People’s Pond in Jiachuan County (modern-day Wangchang County in northeastern Sichuan) within Ji Prefecture, causing harm. Villagers thus made sacrifices to it with virgin girls and white horses. Having been deluded by [the dragon], they became accustomed to this as normal. When it was Zhang Congshan’s turn to sacrifice his daughter, the elderly couple wept bitterly. A monk arrived at their doorstep and taught the girl the Incantation of the Jiedi God in the Prajñā[-pāramitā-hṛdaya] Sūtra. The girl followed his instructions. After being sent to the flood dragon temple, she suddenly saw a giant figure clad in armor and wielding a sword. The flood dragon rushed out, and the giant killed it with the sword, leaving the girl unharmed. An edict was issued to rename the temple as the Jiedi Cloister, and the girl was ordained as a nun, taking charge of it.11
This story succinctly recounts the tale of the Spring Damsel, with the cosmopolitan alchemical theme of a maiden, a horse, and a chthonic spirit rising up from water and pursuing/fleeing all present. Flood dragon, or jiao, is a species of dragon capable of invoking storms and floods. It usually symbolizes the destructive or treacherous aspects of water, in contrast to the beneficent qualities typically associated with the long-dragon (Kroll 2017, p. 203; HDC s.v.The third story appears in a slightly different version in the Thicket of Conversations (Tan sou
The chthonic spirits demanding virgin brides in the stories above invariably take the form of snakes, pythons, or dragons, all of which fall under the Indian category of snakelike nāgas following the transmission of Buddhism to China. Even the aquatic habitats of the nāgas are transposed: in the first story, the white snake emerged from a well near a river, while in the second, the flood dragon dwelled in a pond. Consequently, the Jiedi God became a Chinese instantiation of the dragon-slayer archetype found throughout the world.13
As Huaiyu Chen’s recent book on animals in medieval Chinese religions demonstrates, “snake disaster” (shezai
The Spring Damsel tale represents a Sichuanese variation of a cosmopolitan alchemical theme, in which an elusive chthonic “game” is captured from a body of water through sexual enticement and the ensuing pursuit or flight of a maiden on horseback. It also exemplifies the Buddhist typology of the superimposition on or suppression of local snake cults. With the recitation of the mantra, a god comes into being. The power of the Jiedi Mantra is vividly displayed through the thunderous shout of the Jiedi God. An Indian god was born from combating against the grim practice of sacrificing virgins to the snake cult in China.
3. Spells
But how did the Jiedi God and Mantra become associated with serpents and dragons? Some scholars have pointed out that the mantra found in the Heart Sūtra bears a resemblance to those contained in two other Mahāyāna sūtras: the Dafangdeng wuxiang jing
The Great Cloud Sūtra narrates that Vairambhaka, the king of the winds, creates a gentle cool breeze before joining the assembly. After generating four kinds of dark clouds saturated with sweet water and three types of thunder out of supernormal power, the Buddha then recites a long dhāraṇī, the opening section of which bears a striking resemblance to the Jiedi Mantra:16
gate pari-(or pra-)gate saṃgate pārasaṃgate….
gate gate pāragate pārasaṃgate bodhi svāhā
This rainmaking spell illustrates the Buddhist domestication of the native Indian nāga cult. The dhāraṇī from the Great Cloud Sūtra circulated independently in China afterward. It gained popularity when included as the “Rainmaking Dhāraṇī” (jiangyu tuoluoni
But did the association of the Jiedi God or Mantra with water solely arise from confusion with the rainmaking dhāraṇī in the Great Cloud Sūtra? In the following, I will demonstrate that the commentarial tradition on the Heart Sūtra provided fertile ground for the reception of the water transference. Wŏnch’ŭk
First, gate gate means “deliver, deliver” (or “cross over, cross over”; du du
Next, the phrase pāra[gate] eulogizes pāramitā in the prose section. It means “reach the further shore,” with “the further shore” referring to nirvana. Gate means “cross over”. Where does one cross over to? It refers to the further shore to which one crosses over. Thus it is said pāragate.
As for pāra, it is translated as above. Saṃgate means “reach the ultimate”. Bodhi (“enlightenment”) is the essence of the further shore. Lastly, svāhā means “quickly”. This means because the wondrous wisdom has excellent functions, one is able to reach the further shore of bodhi quickly.22
The mantra gate gate pāragate pārasaṃgate bodhi svāhā is usually understood to mean “Gone, gone, gone beyond, gone completely beyond; enlightenment; hail!” (McRae 1988, p. 315; Lopez 1996, p. 169; see also Conze 1958, pp. 101–2). The grammar of this phrase is a source of puzzlement among Indologists, however. It is generally understood that gate is derived from gata (“gone”), a past passive participle from the root √gam (“go”).23 While Fazang’s interpretation aligns with this understanding when he provides both the literal and derived senses of gate as “gone” and “delivered” (quye duye
In the next section, pāra means “beyond,” “the further bank, shore, or boundary”.27 Wŏnch’ŭk’s understanding of pāragate is the same as his previous explication on pāramitā, “arrive at the further shore,” and by extension, “perfection”.28 Thus he introduces into the mantra the familiar soteriological metaphor of likening the entire Buddhist path to crossing the ocean of saṃsāra or suffering over to the further shore of nirvana or enlightenment (bodhi).29
As for pārasaṃgate, a more in-depth interpretation is provided by Fazang: “saṃ means ‘wholly’ (zong
Finally, Wŏnch’ŭk employs the traditional Chinese philosophical concepts of essence and function (ti and yong) to interpret bodhi (“enlightenment”) as the essence of the further shore, and “the wondrous wisdom” (prajñā) as the function whereby one can arrive quickly at the further shore of enlightenment. Thus, his interpretation of the mantra can be summarized as “Deliver (oneself)! Deliver (others)! Deliver to the further shore! Completely (or “Universally” in Fazang) deliver to the further shore! Enlightenment! Hail!” This derivative line of Sinitic interpretation, which has been circulating in East Asia for more than 1200 years, carries a more vigorous sense compared to the literal rendering by Indologists (“Gone, gone, gone beyond, gone completely beyond; enlightenment; hail!”). In particular, Wŏnch’ŭk’s robust semantic interpretation of gate gate as du du harmonizes well with the sonic power of the Sanskrit spell. When gate is repeated four times, it starts to resemble a march, as Chinese Buddhologist Luo Zhao understands the mantra’s aural quality (Luo 2018, p. 141). The sonics and semantics of the spell combine to convey a compelling Buddhist soteriology.
Regarding the metaphorical understanding of this soteriology, the Tiantai patriarch Zhiyi
What is intriguing in this well-known metaphor is the middle stream or ocean between the shores, the domain where nāgas thrive. Daoxuan
Through a series of ingenious East Asian exegeses, the Jiedi Mantra is imputed with not only soteriological significance but also a metaphorical aquatic setting. As insight from Conceptual Metaphor Theory (CMT) within the field of cognitive linguistics shows that metaphors extend beyond mere rhetorical language; they permeate our everyday thinking and actions, thereby possessing the remarkable ability to mold our cognition and conduct and, in turn, affect the way reality is constructed (Lakoff and Johnson 1980). There are frequent traversals back and forth between the literal and the metaphorical. In the case of the Jiedi Mantra, the weight of the commentarial tradition of the Heart Sūtra compels a mapping from the metaphorical domain to the material or tangible realm. This movement creates not only a figurative but an actual watery habitat for the mantra. Metaphors connect, extend, stretch, traverse; they can even materialize, mold, and make reality.
The association of the Jiedi Mantra with water and nāgas, I thus argue, is not solely the result of external transference from a rainmaking dhāraṇī in the Great Cloud Sūtra. Rather, the hermeneutic tradition, which interprets the soteriological metaphor of crossing within the mantra, has also provided a fertile ground for making this transference plausible. It springs from a confluence of both external and internal factors. In the following, I will illustrate how the metaphoricity of “crossing over” (Skt. gate, √tṝ; Chn. du) transforms into literalness and actuality by examining the devotional cult to a particular form of Jiedi.
4. The Ocean-Cleaving Jiedi God
In 1217, Cheng Boxiong
Cheng narrates that the temple was originally built during the Yongxi period (984–987) in the early Song to honor the tutelary goddess of a salt well (lit. “white well;” haojing
Throughout the last millennium of imperial history, the salt monopoly consistently ranked as the second most important revenue generator after the land tax. The Pujiang wells played a significant role in the Song salt industry. In the 1010s, a man named Wang Luan achieved a remarkable breakthrough in drilling technology by inventing the “lofty pipe well” (zhuotong jing
In the latter half of the eleventh century, the state tried to maintain monopolistic prices of Pujiang salt by shutting down the privately owned lofty pipe wells in the Chengdu Prefecture Circuit, which led to mass unemployment among salt workers and incurred the ire of Sichuan-born officials.36 Shortly before the “Record” in the early thirteenth century, salt yields from state-monopolized wells in Pujiang ranked second only to those of the Lingzhou Well, which was discovered by the Daoist founder and guarded by the Jade Maidens or venomous dragons discussed earlier.37 Salt from Pujiang was submitted to the Super-provincial Directorates General (zongling suo
Incidentally, The Compiled Drafts of Important Documents of the Song (Song huiyao jigao
After recounting the genesis of the salt well, Cheng continues:
Later, a god descended to the temple and was remarkable in his numinous responsiveness. Only his holy title is written alternatively as “Ocean-Cleaving Jiedi (Pihai Jiedi
“Ocean-Cleaving,” the particular form of the Jiedi God enshrined at the Temple of Broad Deliverance, is rather puzzling. Neither is the temple located in the coastal region, nor in a wide array of sources is there a single case in which the Jiedi God appears in oceans. The question can be rephrased with a verse from William Wordsworth (1895): “Though inland far we be, / Our souls have sight of that immortal sea”.44 Why the sudden invasion of “sea theologies” or “maritime religiosity” into the Jiedi cult?45 In her discussion of water as the root metaphor of Chinese philosophies, Sarah Allan sharply points out that it was from contemplating the most commonplace and close-at-hand forms of water that is found in small pools, irrigation ditches, meandering streams, and great rivers—rather than the infinite ocean—that Chinese sought to grasp the fundamental principles of life encompassing both the physical and social worlds (Allan 1997, p. 31). If put in mythological terms, the Jiedi God’s “field of action,” the places and occasions of his activities or services or “where he intervenes,” does not include the sea, though he is found in all other inland aquatic contexts, including wells, ponds, lakes, and rivers.
More important than a god’s “field of action” is his “mode of action,” which refers to the specific manner or means of action that is unique to him or “how he intervenes”.46 The particular mode of this Jiedi God’s action, pi
The allusion appears in several important Buddhist texts, including the Huayan jing
When one first generates the mind for anuttara-samyak-saṃbodhi (“supreme, perfect enlightenment”), one wishes to deliver (dutuo
one observes those who can be delivered (ke du zhe
Similarly, the Buddha observes sentient beings in the five paths in the worlds of the ten directions with the Buddha eye and contemplates who should be delivered (de du
With the dissemination of Chan Buddhism in the Song, this potent image found its way into kōans, becoming one of the favored capping phrases. It was often coupled with another evocative metaphor of deliverance, as exemplified by Dahui Zonggao (1089–1163) when he posed a vigorous rhetorical question: “Can you emulate the fragrant elephant which crosses the river by severing its flow? Can you resemble the Golden-winged [Bird King] which splits the ocean and snatches the dragon directly for devouring?”50 Already implied in the root √tṝ (“cross over”) is the notion of “a movement perpendicular to the riverbanks” and a palpable “spatial tension;” thus “a certain (physical) effort” is demanded of its agent, analyzes Maes (2022, p. 58). By cutting off the current, the elephant’s crossing put this effort into maximal relief, transforming into yet another potent metaphor symbolizing the resolute and unwavering pursuit of Buddhahood undertaken by a great bodhisattva.51 The coupling of these two colossal creatures, one splitting horizontally and the other vertically, forges a spectacular image of Buddhist deliverance. It resonates with a compelling biblical juxtaposition of God’s cosmogonic creation by cleaving the sea monster Rahab and Moses’s historic crossing by splitting the Red Sea.52 The parallel theme of horizontal and vertical splitting in Judeo-Christian and Chinese Buddhist traditions speaks to a profound common impulse across vastly different religions. While vertically, the two traditions share a similar serpentine monster to conquer, horizontally, the Jewish Promised Land morphs into the Buddhist further shore. Both convey the concept of creation or liberation born from the act of cleaving through chaos or bondage—wherein the magnificent new erupts from the fractured old. While these two giant animals remained separate in Indian Buddhism, they converged in the Chinese Buddhist literature. This paired imagery went beyond Buddhism, influencing literary criticism and becoming common knowledge among Song literati, which the author of the “Record” was likely aware of.53
The shared function of subjugating nāgas allowed the particular mode of action—cleaving, splitting, or striking (pi
The ocean in Jiedi’s name, I suggest, refers more to the figurative ocean of suffering derived from Buddhist soteriology than a literal sea. However, the intervention of an oceanic god into this landlocked temple, originally devoted to a well goddess, carries added significance for the salt industry in Pujiang. When Cheng later remarks that “the power over rainfall or sunshine is truly in the charge of the god,” his meteorological concern also extends to sunny days, for rain would hinder workers from boiling brine and decrease salt production (Worthy 1975, p. 106). In the Lingjing Well, which is geographically close to Pujiang, the output during the rainy season plummeted to only 38 percent of that during the dry season (von Glahn 1987, p. 84). Furthermore, as an unavoidable outcome of the mining process, the infiltration of freshwater will eventually reduce the salinity of the brine, which, unfortunately, does not alleviate the burden for the producer to pay the excise tax. I suggest that the seawater brought by this oceanic Jiedi will symbolically enhance the salinity of the inland wells, upon which the livelihood of salt workers depends.
After introducing the Buddhist deity, Cheng continues to relate that, following the renovation and expansion of the temple in early Southern Song, devotees who came to perform thanksgiving sacrifices from the neighboring prefectures numbered in the hundreds and thousands every day. However, Sichuan was notorious in premodern times for its formidable mountains and rocky gorges. This was particularly true for the physical location of the Temple of Broad Deliverance, where three streams converge and form a gorge, as indicated by the place name Sanxi xia
Why was the bridge named Broad Deliverance? It was in fact derived from the Temple of Broad Deliverance of the Dugu family. However, the meaning of Broad Deliverance cannot be set up simply for a well or spring. Generally speaking, there are three reasons: To the left of the temple there is a Shrine to the Dragon Girl, a bit to the north of which there are two Dragon Grottoes, one big and one small. Whenever there is a severe drought, supplicants for rain from the four directions would show their devotions first, and rain will pour down afterwards. Thus the power over rainfall or sunshine is truly in the charge of the god. To the right of the temple there are two Dragon Grottoes, one big and one small, which lead to the dam water, irrigate several thousand qing and mu of fields, and result in no more years of famine. Thus the flow or blocking of water is truly in the hands of the gods. Those who come to supplicate the spirits at the temple [are so numerous that] their shoulders touch and their heels follow closely upon each other. Those in the past who had to dampen their clothes to cross when the water was deep and to lift their clothes when it was shallow now arrive quickly. Those in the past who had to lift their lower garments to wade through now arrive in leisure. Adding up these three [reasons], how can the name of Broad Deliverance be considered exaggerated praise?57
Here we encounter three layers of deity worship at the temple: the Buddhist god, the Dragon Girl, and the three tutelary goddesses of the salt wells. Intriguingly, Cheng thinks that only the Buddhist god, not the local well goddesses, could merit the temple title of Broad Deliverance. Jiedi tames the Dragon Girl and four dragon grottoes while maintaining the salinity of the wells—clearly, a case of superimposing Buddhism upon early local religion. The Buddhist takeover of Sichuan’s second most important salt well parallels the Daoist control over the largest one in Lingzhou. The ability to control well goddesses and generate brine became yet another example of “crucial cultural capital” (in Huaiyu Chen’s term), or a repertoire element in the “contestational fields” (in Robert Campany’s term) in the interactions of Buddhism and Daoism (Campany 2012, p. 109).The three reasons Cheng provides—rainfall, irrigation and bridge—all revolve around ji
In its original meaning, ji is synonymous with du
The initial two reasons of broad deliverance—meteorological control and irrigation with dam water—are closely tied to Jiedi’s capacity to subdue the nāga cult as seen in the Shrine of Dragon Maiden and four dragon grottoes flanking the temple. In this role, he manages not only the weather conditions crucial for salt production but also provides agricultural facility by irrigating vast expanses of land. Therefore, it is solely the translocal Buddhist diety who is worthy of the salvific title of Broad Deliverance.
Lastly, Cheng never forgot his official role and responsibilities. He associated Confucius’ sagely virtue in revering gods and spirits with the Buddhist practice of “giving generously to deliver the multitude” (
Although the bridge was constructed by humans, no one can match the meaning of Broad Deliverance except the [Jiedi] God. At another time a gentleman of like-minded aspirations will be given the book left behind [by the Old Sire of Yellow Rock] on a bridge, and ride waves to jump over the Dragon Gate [like carps]. If not the God, who would assist him? Composed by Cheng Boxiong, Military Prefect of Lizhou Bestowed with a Silver Fish Pouch, in the sixth month of the dingchou year of the Jiading era (1217).62
The first allusion pertains to the famed strategist Zhang Liang, who received The Art of War by [Jiang] Taigong (Taigong bingfaHis official career is next in order. Between 1208 and 1215, Cheng Boxiong, a native of Danling
Interestingly, during the suppression, salt produced in the official wells of Pujiang was supplied as a crucial military provision,64 evidencing the direct connection between salt and warfare. The government’s salt monopoly was initially instituted to alleviate the financial deficits resulting from the military campaigns of Emperor Wu of Han (156–87 BC). It was later reinstated on a national scale soon after the An Lushan Rebellion (755–763 AD). The revenue generated from this salt monopoly became the lifeblood for the nation, particularly for funding the military. From very early on soldiers were dispatched to garrison the lucrative salt wells in Sichuan. The state-controlled salt wells in Pujiang not only held an industrial and fiscal significance but also had a military presence. It is thus entirely fitting for a military prefect to eulogize a martial god who oversees the salt wells.65
In his final allusion to the civil service examination, Cheng expressed a personal aspiration for success under the auspice of Jiedi. Despite his early military success, he still yearned for literary success and status as a formal member of the literati. Eventually, his wish was fulfilled as he passed the exam and obtained the degree of a jinshi
By scrutinizing the Ocean-Cleaving Jiedi God at the Temple of Broad Deliverance, I illustrate how the Buddhist soteriological metaphor of deliverance became materialized and localized in societal mobilization, meteorological regulation, industrial production, hydraulic irrigation, agricultural cultivation, infrastructure development, military operations, and civil examination—all marshalled through a translocal Buddhist deity. This analysis also unveils the intricate interplay between state control and decentralized inclinations, as well as the dynamic relationship between local cults and translocal Buddhism and Daoism in Song-dynasty Sichuan.
5. Tantricization
What does such an Ocean-Cleaving Jiedi look like? An intriguing clue is given at the end of the Spring Damsel story, where it mentions the distribution of “a painting based on the form manifested [by the god] … across the country”. This is likely the genesis of the visual representation of Jiedi in Tang China. Indeed, iconography is a major medium in the dissemination of the Jiedi cult, with at least five renowned artists painting the deity from the Tang to Song dynasties. Remarkably, four of them held official positions at court, and three served in the imperial arts academy (Table 1). Notably, Zhai Ruwen achieved the prestigious role of Vice Grand Councilor in early Southern Song. The courtly background of these artists underscores that Jiedi transcended mere local devotion, rapidly ascending to the upper echelons of Chinese society during the Middle Period.
Despite his popularity, as evidenced by painting records and miracle tales, only a couple of images have been clearly identified. Among the cliff statues of the Cave of Transcendents (Xianren dong
The White-Robed Guanyin on the right is depicted in a seated posture, with one leg dangling. The slightly smaller statue of the Jiedi Wisdom King on the left has suffered severe damage to the head, arms, and torso. Thanks to Zhu Jixiang’s detailed sketch, it is still possible to discern that this figure stands with arms akimbo, displaying an angry gesture. His hair bristles up against a peach-shaped fiery halo. He stands atop the back of a turtle, which turns its head to the left. Facing the turtle is a coiled snake, its head raised high and its forked tongue appearing to strike at the turtle. Both reptiles are situated within a rectangular pond, with splashing waves drawn on the surface and the railings around. Traces of yellow pigment are still visible in the fiery aureole, around the belt, and on the legs of the standing statue.69
This damaged statue from Meishan, featuring him riding a turtle and subduing a snake, is likely an early representation of the distinctive Ocean-Cleaving Jiedi God enshrined at the Temple of Broad Deliverance, also located in Meishan.
The damaged portions of the Jiedi statue in Meishan can be supplemented through a comparison with a similar three-headed wooden statue from the Northern Song period, which was discovered in the underground crypt of Fazang Monastery
The turtle and the snake combine to form an image of the Dark Warrior (Xuanwu), the northern one of the four heraldic animals in Chinese cosmology, symbolized either by a single turtle or more commonly a turtle entwined by a snake in early Chinese sources, where the snake was perceived as a turtle in male form. The turtle’s hard shell resembles armor, symbolizing protection and defense, thus linking the turtle with martial qualities. During the Tang dynasty, the infamous Gate of the Dark Warrior, situated in the north of the Taiji Palace in the capital Chang’an, witnessed several coup d’etats and much bloodshed. The Dark Warrior is also associated with the element of water in the Five Phases of Chinese cosmology. This dual symbolism of both water and warrior aligns perfectly with Jiedi, who embodies qualities of both a water and warrior god (Chao 2011, pp. 13–21).
What is most significant about the Meishan statue is that Jiedi was elevated from a mere god (shen) to a vidyārāja (mingwang), the King of Wisdom or Magical Knowledge, in particular the knowledge of spells (vidyā). As fierce emanations of buddhas and bodhisattvas, Wisdom Kings constitute the most distinctive class of deities in tantric Buddhism.
The Sichuan and Jiangsu statues of Jiedi conform to many of the iconographical features of Wisdom Kings. “The hair standing sharply on end (Skt. ūrdhvakeśa),” explains Roger Goepper, “belongs to the characteristic features of deities in wrathful mood” (Goepper 1993, p. 26). The halo of soaring flames around the head of the Meishan statue is commonly seen among wisdom kings. Louis Frédéric notes that the aureole of flames around Acala Vidyārāja (Budong mingwang
Yoritomi Motohiro, the foremost Japanese scholar on wisdom kings, summarizes four general characteristics as follows:
each possesses a specific mantra or dhāraṇī unique to themselves;
each is a wrathful god (krodha) to express one’s inherent power;
each subjugates a specific Hindu deity;
each is a transformation body of either a buddha or bodhisattva.
If we measure Vidyārāja Jiedi against the four key features, we find he fulfills almost all the requirements. He possesses an independent Jiedi Mantra; he is a fierce god; he subjugates the nāgas as a class, though not necessarily any specific nāga; and he is considered an emanation of Avalokiteśvara, as evident from his pairing with the bodhisattva in the Meishan niche, or of Bodhisattva Prajñāpāramitā, which we will see in a ritual manual soon. He is an indigenous Chinese creation of an Indian Buddhist wisdom king who cannot be found anywhere in the South Asian subcontinent.
The identification of Jiedi as a Wisdom King in the Meishan statue is confirmed by the Liturgy of a Great Feast Sanctuary of the Three Kinds of Wisdom of the Bodhisattva with Perfect Interpenetration (Yuantong sanhui dazhai daochang yi
The exact period when he started to be invoked in rituals as a deity remains uncertain. Jiedi appears as an incantation in the Jiedi Rite (Jiedi li
Jiedi is featured as a set of four gods in the “Ritual Procedure for the Invitation of Pra[jñāpārami]tā-hṛdaya-sūtra” (Bore duoxinjing jiqing yigui
The Dali ritual draws significant inspiration from the Great Heart Sūtra of Prajñāpāramitā (Bore boluomiduo da xin jing
The contemplation of the Prajñā Buddha Mother commences with the ritual officiant visualizing the white syllable a within one’s own heart transforming into a big white wheel. One then focuses on visualizing within the wheel the white syllable a, which stands for gate gate. Subsequently, one visualizes the red syllable hrīḥ transform into a lotus flower, which represents pāragate. Within the flower, the white syllable hūṃ changes into a vajra (
Then following a visualization of the Prajñā Buddha Mother is the Mantra and Mudra for Inviting the Four Anthropomorphic Gods Jiedi (qing Jiedi si shenren zhouyin
The ritual has its core practice in the recitation of the Jiedi Mantra while counting rosaries, and culminates in the Four Wisdoms and Five Wheels (sizhi wuyuanming
Subsequently, the ritual unfolds with an elucidation of the meaning of the Four Wisdoms, which I have reorganized within the following table to underscore the four Jiedi gods or syllables (Table 2).78 The Four Jiedi Gods are mapped onto the four (vajra, jewel, lotus, and karma) of the five families or wheels of the Adamant Realm, with the fifth Buddha family unspecified but implied through the presence of the Prajñā Buddha Mother at the center. They thus become the emanations of the four bodhisattvas (Samantabhadra, Ākāśagarbha, Avalokiteśvara, and Tatāgatha Fist) positioned at the cardinal directions, flanking the central deity of the Prajñā Mother. Additionally, the four epithets of the Heart Sūtra’s spell are also mapped onto the four cognitions shared by both tantric and Yogācāra systems.
The entire practice of Four Wisdoms and Five Wheels represents a union of the dual systems of the Adamant and Womb Realms, correctly pointed out by Kawasaki, and demonstrates the continuation of Tang-dynasty tantric Buddhism in southwestern China, though there are indications of the influence from late Indian tantra in other sections of the ritual (Kawasaki 2008, p. 98). This ritual serves as a compelling illustration of the process of tantricization of the Heart Sūtra, with Jiedi, whether in the mantric or personified form, playing a significant role.
Commenting on the Heart Sūtra, the esteemed Chan master Dahui Zonggao (1089–1163) dismissed the connection between the Jiedi Mantra and God, asserting: “Lately, there is a sort of dharma master who tend toward fabrications, referring to this [syllable gate] as the name of a god. This is grossly wrong! In the Western Region there exists a Jiedi God, coincidentally sharing the same Sanskrit pronunciation [as the mantra], and thereby they claim that this mantra consists entirely of gods’ names”.79 However, Zonggao’s stance is unfounded, as no such god exists in India. The Chinese Buddhist god drags as an Indian god by adopting an Indian name and appearance. While he disputes the Jiedi God’s origin in China, Zonggao nonetheless acknowledges the presence of other Buddhist monks, for instance, the contemporary author of this Dali ritual, who regard the Jiedi Mantra as multiple spirits.
With his elevation from a mere god to a tantric vidyārāja, as depicted in both iconographical and ritual sources, the China-born Jiedi has acquired a more pronounced and exotic Indian flavor.
6. Dissemination and Network
If tantricization represents the penetration of the Jiedi cult into a particular Buddhist tradition, it becomes evident from the table below that his name was imprinted much more widely on Chinese sacred geography during the Middle Period (Table 3). Natural landscapes like ponds and various monastic architecture, including cloisters, halls, and pagodas, were named after him.80 Many of these places are situated within aquatic settings. For example, in the renowned Shengci Monastery in Chengdu, there existed a Jiedi Cloister, within which a Jiedi Hall stood by the Pond for Releasing Life. This architectural configuration underscores the god’s role in overseeing aquatic creatures like fish and turtles. Of particular interest is a marvelous rock formation in Guilin
Although Jiedi makes appearances elsewhere, his cult has its roots and a prominent concentration in Sichuan, which provides breeding ground for snakes and dragons with its diverse terrains, including mountains, gorges, caverns, rivers, ponds, and wells. The prominence of Sichuan in the Jiedi cult might be linked to the famous story of Xuanzang, who received an early version of the Heart Sūtra in Chengdu during the early seventh century. As the popularity of the sūtra grew, so did the dissemination of the cult of the Jiedi Mantra and God to the other parts of China.
Jiedi often finds himself in the company of other deities or within a group context, especially after the Tang Dynasty. One common thread running through these groupings or pairings is the widely disseminated cult of the Heart Sūtra, including Bodhisattvas Guanyin and Prajñāpāramitā, as well as the revered transmitter Xuanzang. One illustrative example of this network is the trio of Guanyin, Jiedi, and the youth Sudhana (Shancai tongzi
Subsequently, the Buddhist cults of Guanyin and the Heart Sūtra were appropriated wholesale and transformed into deities with Chinese names in a Daoist thunder ritual, as preserved in the Great Rituals of the Manifestation of the Original Forces of the Heaven of Pure Tenuity (Qingwei yuanjiang dafa
Owing to his role as a warrior god, Jiedi often finds himself paired or grouped with other Buddhist martial protector deities like the Adamant Beings, athletes (lishi
During the Tang dynasty, we encounter just one Jiedi god. However, from the tenth century onward, we begin to see four Jiedi gods. In the late imperial Chinese vernacular fiction and drama, this god’s proliferation reaches unprecedented levels—appearing in groups of 5, 16, 25, and even 3000. In his multiplication, Jiedi forms “a special class of fierce supernatural warriors” protecting the Buddhist religion, and becomes synonymous with other classes of Buddhist guardians such as the Adamant Being and athletes (Idema 2009, p. 14, note 19). However, once he proliferates into a class, he also loses some of his individual distinctiveness.
7. Conclusions
Circling like the ouroboros symbol of a snake swallowing its own tail back to the cross-species romance at the beginning of the article, Jiedi may look like a villain in quenching the poignant love. The popular late imperial legend, however, has masked his valorous medieval past of battling a somber cult of snake spirits devouring virgin brides, which was a regional variation of a cosmopolitan alchemical theme. A Chinese Buddhist contribution to the worldwide archetype of the dragon or serpent-slayer, Jiedi was supposed to be a personification of the famous mantra found in the Heart Sūtra. I demonstrate how the nāga-taming function and aquatic setting in the rainmaking spell of the Great Cloud Sūtra were transferred to the Heart Sūtra Mantra, aided by its commentarial tradition stressing the soteriological metaphor of crossing or deliverance. The convergence of external and internal factors created an independent cult centered around the Jiedi Mantra, closely associated with both water and warfare. Through “synesthetic unfolding,” the sonics and semantics embedded within the mantra traverse into a spectacular personification embodied by the Ocean-Cleaving Jiedi God. He played an important role in meteorology, industry, agriculture, infrastructure, and military and civil services; in the intricate interplay between state control and decentralized tendencies; and in the dynamics between local cults and translocal Buddhism and Daoism as well as the cosmopolitan alchemical theme, all of which can be observed in the Temple and Bridge of Broad Deliverance in Song-dynasty Sichuan. As Jiedi evolved from a mere god to a tantric vidyārāja, his iconography and rituals took on a more pronounced and exotic Indian flavor. In the late imperial period, he further imprinted himself on sacred geography, networked with other Buddhist deities, entered Daoism and local religions, and proliferated as a distinct class of protector gods in vernacular fiction and drama. This exotic Buddhist god, never documented in India, finds his roots firmly established on Chinese soil. The exorcistic function of the Jiedi Mantra was the motor behind its deification in Tang, Five Dynasties, and Song China.
Drawing from his experience in Chinese vernacular literature, Stephen West astutely highlights “another possibility and a potentially wider arena for the Heart Sūtra … as a mantra, an amulet, an incantation” (West 2000, p. 129). Indeed, there exists another facet of the Heart Sūtra’s history that merits exploration. It is the incantatory, magical, exorcistic aspect of the sutra, beyond the philosophical section, that has contributed significantly to the most popular Buddhist scripture in the world. And to the Jiedi Mantra, I will turn in a future installment.
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I am very grateful to Peng Liu for inviting me to this special issue and shepherding me through the entire publication process. I thank Simi Wang and Ann C. Mason at Religions for their editorial assistance. I owe my gratitude to the two anonymous reviewers for their constructive feedbacks and suggestions for improvement. I want to thank Paul Copp who provided me with an opportunity to present some of the materials at the University of Chicago in 2016. I am also indebted to Kevin Buckelew for exchanging ideas and proofreading my article. I thank Judy Zhu, Tiantian Cai, Thụy Đan Nguyễn, Albert Errickson, and Benjamin Sinvany, who read some of the primary materials with me in a graduate seminar in Fall 2020. Special thanks go to HOU Chong, HUANG Huang, ZHU Jixiang, and Judy Zhu, for securing some important materials for me. My gratitude also goes to Yannik Thiem, Sonya Lee, Jue Guo, Ying Qian, Jungwon Kim, and Seong Uk Kim, for their advice, assistance, and encouragement during the drafting process. I thank Clémence Boulouque, Yanchen Liu, Ruifeng Chen, Yuqing Luo, and Xinzhi Lin for answering my questions. All errors are of course my own responsibility.
The author declares no conflict of interest.
| B | manuscripts from Dunhuang in the collection of the National Library of China, Beijing |
| DDB | Digital Dictionary of Buddhism < |
| DZ | Zhengtong Daozang |
| FG | Foguang dacidian |
| HDC | Hanyu da cidian |
| MW | A Sanskrit-English Dictionary. Ed. Monier Monier-Williams. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1899. |
| P | manuscripts from Dunhuang in the Pelliot Collection, Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris |
| SKQS | Wenyuange siku quanshu (dianzi ban) |
| T | Taishō shinshū daizōkyō |
| ZZ | Shinsan Dai Nihon zoku zōkyō |
Footnotes
1.
2. In
3. For scholarship on the Jiedi God, see (
4. (International Dunhuang Project,
5.
6. (
7. See Kenneth DeWoskin’s translation in (
8. (
9.
10. (Song huiyao jigao, vol. 2, Li
11.
12. (Tan sou, p. 204.) Tan sou was attributed conventionally to Pang Yuanying, a Northern Song person, though it was likely compiled after the beginning of the 13th century due to the appearance of some later anecdotes (p. 195).
13. See the tale type of “The Dragon-Slayer,” which is no. 300 in (
14. (
15. (T. 387, 12.1084c7-l2 and T. 1353, 21.867cl2-22, respectively). See (
16. The former mantra is the Rainmaking Spell in the Great Cloud Sūtra (T. 387, 12.1084c7-12), its Sanskrit reconstruction belongs to (
17.
18. (T. 387, 12.1084b29-c26).
19. (T. 1336, 21.609a25-b19, corresponding to
20. (T. 2122, 53.742a10-22, corresponding to
21. Limiting the scope to Tang-dynasty commentaries on the Heart Sūtra, Wŏnch’ŭk’s exegesis of the meaning of the mantra is followed by the Huayan master Fazang (643–712), the Tiantai master Mingkuang (ca. 777), and an anonymous commentator preserved in the Dunhuang manuscript P. 2903, all of which can be found in (Bore xinjing yizhu jicheng). For the Chines tradition of explicating Buddhist incantations, see (
22.
23. For speculations on gate, see (MW, pp. 346–47;
24.
25. See (
26. (DDB, s.v.
27. (MW, p. 619.2;
28. (T. 1711, 33.543c23-24).
29. For the classical study on Buddhist soteriology, see (
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35. For this record, see ([Jiaqing] Meizhou shu zhi, 15/27a-29a). It also appears in a punctuated edition in (Songdai shuwen jicun jiaobu, vol. 6, 92/2933-34).
36. See Lü Tao’s “Fengshi huizhou shishi zhuang” (Jingde ji, 4/15a-16b); and (
37. (“Shu zhong guanyan,” in Jianyan yilai chaoye zaji (jia ji), 14/242–243). The first 20 fascicle in the “jia ji” was completed in 1202.
38. For zongling suo, see (
39. (
40. (Song huiyao jigao, vol. 2, Li
41.
42. For the granting of titles to local deities during the Song, see (
43. For the Restoration period, see (
44. (“Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood,” st. 9, p. 94).
45. For recent studies on “sea theologies” or “maritime religiosity,” see (
46. For the distinction made between “field of action” and “mode of action” in mythological studies, see (
47.
48.
49. (
50.
51. (DDB, s.v.
52. “Was it not you who cut Rahab in pieces,/Who pierced the dragon?//Was it not you who dried up the sea,/The waters of the great deep;/Who made the depths of the sea a way/For the redeemed to cross over?” (
53. In Canglang’s Remarks on Poetry (Canglang shi hua
54. For the exact phrasing of pihai in the Song, see Huihong Juefan’s (1071–1128) commentary on the Lotus Sūtra (Miaofa lianhua jing helun, ZZ. 30, 603.365a10-13).
55. (
56. I suggest that the “Wave-Cleaving Fudō” (Namikiri Fudō
57.
58. (HDC, Kroll, s.v.
59.
60. (DDB, s.v.
61.
62.
63. (“Wuchen Xubu zhi bian
64. (“Wuchen Xubu zhi bian,” in Jianyan yilai chaoye zajia (yi ji) 20/316).
65. For the relationship between salt monopoly and military, see (
66. ([Jiaqing] Sichuan tongzhi, 123/36a and 38b).
67. The paintings of the Jiedi God by the first three artists survived at least until the end of the Northern Song and appear in (Xuanhe huapu, pp. 124, 71, and 157;
68.
69. The iconographical description is much indebted to (
70. (Foxue da cidian, s.v. “
71. Or else written as
72. (B. 8347; see also Wang Juan, pp. 225–57).
73. (P. 2811 and P. 4046).
74. Written as “Gati Fast” in (
75. (Dali congshu: Dazangjing pian 2: 146–158). See especially (
76. (T. 901, 18.807b19-22).
77. (T. 901, 18.807b19-21, and 806c22-26); see also (
78. I have adapted Kawasaki’s table (
79.
80. I have saved the appearance of Jiedi on Dhāraṇī pillars in a future installment because they involve only the mantra not the god.
81.
82. see (Sougou baike
83. (Ming yitong zhi 83/11a; and [Yongzheng] Guangxi tong zhi, 13/22a,124/13a).
84. The first Jiedi Cloister, as discussed above, comes from (Yudi jisheng, 184/5359). The second one comes from (Yizhou minghua lu, p. 200); see also ([Jiajing] Sichuan zong zhi, 42/3b).
85. (Yizhou minghua lu, p. 200).
86. (Song Gaoseng zhuan, T. 2061, 50.882a-b).
87. ([Tongzhi] Changsha xianzhi, 30/12b, 31/14b).
88. (Weishi ji, 3/7a-b). See also (
89. (80/8a-b).
90. (6/1a-2a, and 116/10b-12a).
91. For Jiedi’s pairing with Jin’gang, see, for instance, (Xixiang ji zhu gong diao, by Dong Jieyuang [ca. 1190–1208], p. 21); with Lishi, see (Lingbao lingjiao jidu jinshu, by Lin Ningzhen [1239–1302], 279/21a-b).
92. For the illustrations of the eighteen moves of the Jiedi Kungfu, see (Shaolinsi wushu baike quanshu, pp. 602–5).
Footnotes
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Paintings of the Jiedi God
| Artists | Time | Official Titles | Number of Jiedi Paintings |
|---|---|---|---|
| Chen Hong |
mid-8th c. | Academician in Attendance |
1 |
| Zhu You |
early 10th c. | 4 | |
| Li Gonglin |
1049–1106 | Gentleman for Court Service |
1 |
| Zhai Ruwen |
1076–1141 | Vice Grand Councilor |
4 |
| Su Hanchen |
1094–1172 | Gentleman of Trust |
1 |
The Meaning of Four Wisdoms.
| [E] | [S] | [W] | [N] |
|---|---|---|---|
| Vajra Wisdom |
Jewel Pāramitā |
Lotus Dharma Wisdom |
Karma Wisdom |
| Gate |
Gate |
Pāragate |
Pārasaṃgate |
| cognition of the great mirror |
cognition of essential identity |
cognition of marvelous observation |
cognition that completes the work |
| great unsurpassed spell |
great illuminating spell |
great spirit spell |
great unequalled spell |
| hūṃ | oṃ | vaṃ | ˰aḥ |
| Samantabhadra |
Ākāśagarbha |
Avalokiteśvara |
Tathāgata Fist |
The Jiedi God’s Sacred Geography.
| Name | Location | Time | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|
| Jiedi Cloister 1 |
Jiachuan, northeastern Sichuan | 698–700 | originally a dragon temple |
| Jiedi Cloister 2 |
Shengci Monastery |
ca. 943 | |
| Jiedi Hall |
by or in the Pond for Releasing Life |
ca. 943 | |
| Jiedi Spirit Hall |
Kaiyuan Temple, Yazhou, Sichuan | ca. 894–898 | |
| Jiedi Pagoda |
Changsha, Hunan | Tang? | 16 inscribed images |
| Jiedi Pond |
Guilin, Guangxi | Song? | Rock of the Brandishing Sword |
References
Manuscripts
Dunhuang
B. 8347 P. 2811 P. 2903 P. 3142 P. 4046
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Abstract
I introduce a Buddhist god named Jiedi, believed to be a personification of the renowned gate mantra in the Heart Sūtra. I argue for a complex genesis story where the transference of the nāga-taming function and aquatic setting from the rainmaking spell in the Great Cloud Sūtra to the Heart Sūtra Mantra, coupled with its exegetical tradition emphasizing the soteriological metaphor of crossing, created an independent cult of the Jiedi Mantra. In battling chthonic snake spirits demanding virgin sacrifice in Sichuan, a regional variation of a cosmopolitan alchemical theme, the mantra was personified into a god associated with water and warfare. The exorcistic function of the mantra was the motor behind its apotheosis in Middle-period China. While he was elevated from a mere spirit to a vidyārāja (“wisdom king”) in tantric Buddhism, his cult was also disseminated in the Song, witnessing him provide broad deliverance in diverse areas such as industry, agriculture, infrastructure, military, and civil service. In late imperial China, he further imprinted himself on sacred geography, became a special class of warrior god, made inroads into Daoism and local religion, and proliferated in vernacular fiction and drama. An exotic Indian god was born on Chinese soil.
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Details
1 Department of Religion, Columbia University, 80 Claremont Avenue, Room 307, New York, NY 10027-9610, USA;