I am sure some scholars would disapprove my use of the term “Buddhist
Thaumaturgy,” perhaps with the argument that there is no such thing as
“miracle-working,” “miracle,” “marvel,” and “magic” in Buddhism. While it
is true that there is no such thing as a Creator God who acts as a source of
supernatural entities, events, or activities, and while we can
understand why some of us may not like to have Thaumaturgy in
Buddhism because it does not suit the image of Buddhism that we may have
created ourselves, namely, Buddhism as a form of pure rationalism, it is not
true that there are no elements of “miracles” and “miracle-working” in
Buddhism. As far as I see, Buddhism seems to take for granted the existence of
“miracle,” “marvel,” “magic,” “mystery,” “sorcery,” and the like, as some kind
of “supernatural” phenomenon or reality. These realities are “supernatural”
only in relative perspectives. That is, an entity, reality, or activity, is
regarded as a “miracle,” “marvel,” or “magic,” or “mystery” by normal
mortals only insofar as such an entity, reality, activity, or, the underlying
mechanism, appears to lie beyond their domain of cognition, conception, and
explanation. From the perspectives of those who see through the mechanism
of pratītyasamutpāda underlying any entity, reality,
activity, there is nothing marvellous, magical, or mysterious about anything. In
other words, as scientists might say, there is a logical or rational
explanation to everything including magics and miracles.
While the existence of magic or marvel is not denied in Buddhism,
its value, status, or role is relegated. Only a limited instrumental value is
attributed to the magical means or power. It may be supernatural but
fundamentally worldly (laukika: ’jig rten pa) in its nature, function,
and scope, even when employed by a buddha or an arhant for
beneficial purposes. A buddha, for example, can never put someone
in a nirvāṇic state through his miraculous powers. If he could, he would have
done that already. It is merely a pre-product or byproduct of one’s spiritual
accomplishment and realization. Therefore, the higher one’s spiritual
accomplishment is the greater would be one’s magical power. Nobody, from a
Buddhist perspective, can outdo the magical feats of the Buddha or a buddha.
As benevolent and beneficent as he is, however, he would never misuse his
magical powers. If he sees that his magical feats would benefit sentient
beings, he would demonstrate them. A Buddhist reinterpretation (or
relativization) of magical and miraculous prowess and power would be thus: The
greatest magical feat would be the elimination, transformation, or cognitive
penetration of one’s intellectual-emotional defilements (kleśa: nyon mongs
pa) as a result of which one obtains complete freedom from the bondage
of saṃsāra. One who can do this would be a real magician, or
the greatest magician ever.
Magical power is thus not denied in Buddhism but its value is
relegated. But admittedly, it is also true for Buddhism that absolute power can
corrupt one absolutely, the primum mobile of any form of
corruption, according to Buddhism, being (negative) egoism characterized by
lack of benevolence and beneficence. Magical power is seen as a powerful tool.
One can wield one’s tool constructively or destructively; for benevolent or malevolent
purposes; with beneficent or maleficent motives. Magic employed for a
malevolent and destructive purpose with a maleficent motive may be considered
“black magic.” Magic employed for a benevolent and constructive purpose with a
beneficent motive may be considered “white magic.” Who can judge all these? It
is often difficult to judge. In the end, a thaumaturgist alone should be
his or her own witness and judge. A thaumaturgist alone is responsible for his
or her thaumaturgy.
In Buddhist history and literature, we find ample accounts of the
Buddha and his disciples demonstrating magical prowess and feats. The supernormal powers
of the Buddha and his disciples are not considered abnormal in
Buddhism. Each Buddhist society may have its own accounts of masters, saints,
and yogins demonstrating magical feats. Tibetan Buddhist society is no
exception. Particularly, the legendary accounts of Padmasambhava and his
disciples are full of them. But this is not limited to rNying-ma school alone.
Mi-la-ras-pa is known for the practice of black magic—which he is said to have
learnt from a rNying-ma tāntrika (sngags pa)—the
aftermath of which caused a turning point in his spiritual career. The legends
of Rwa-lo-tsā-ba, for example, also contain full of accounts of he employing
his magical powers to “liberate” (bsgral) thirteen bodhisattvas
who have attained one of ten bodhisattva stages and thirteen
translators of his standing (Shin rgyas, vol. 10, p. 74). He is said to
have killed Mar-pa’s son Dharma-mdo-sde but he could not kill Mi-la-ras-pa. It
is said that he could not kill Lang-lab, too, who was a shepherd and a
Vajrakīla adept.
Where, according to Buddhism, should the magical power come from?
There is a collective expression in Tibetan Buddhism: “three kinds of inconceivable
[power]” (bsam gyis mi khyab pa gsum), namely, “inconceivable power of
substance (i.e. of bodily or material entities)” (rzdas kyi nus pa bsam gyis
mi khyab pa), “inconceivable power of mantras (i.e. of speech)”
(sngags kyi nus pa bsam gyis mi khyab pa), and “inconceivable power of
meditative concentration (i.e. of mind)” (ting nge ’dzin gyi nus pa bsam
gyis mi khyab pa). If we are not convinced of the power of substance, we
might just think of the nuclear bomb, venom, or potassium cyanid. If we are not
convinced of the power of speech, we might try verbally insulting someone and
see what happens. If we are not convinced of the power of concentration, we
might try doing things after getting totally drunk. A Buddhist thaumaturgist
might use one or a combination of these three means or powers, which would then
be considered “magical” or “marvellous” by ordinary mortals like myself.