《道德真經廣聖義》Vol. 14

The Broad Sacred Meaning of the True Scripture of the Way and Its Virtue, Scroll Thirteen: A Plain-Language Interpretation

Classic: The Broad Sacred Meaning of the True Scripture of the Way and Its Virtue

Chapter Thirteen: Favor and Disgrace Both Bring Alarm

Commentary on the previous chapter

The previous chapter explained that once people become entangled in worldly affairs, chase things outside themselves, and rush about in pursuit of profit, all kinds of deluded activity arise.

Commentary on this chapter

This chapter explains that both favor and disgrace can unsettle a person, and that taking the body too seriously is the root of misfortune. The opening two lines state the main idea and pose a question. The next ten lines use a question-and-answer exchange to make the reasoning clear. The chapter concludes with the metaphor of entrusting oneself.

Exposition

The warning against rushing about and coveting goods was given earlier; here, the text explains favor, disgrace, and great calamity. Ordinary people rejoice when favored and feel alarmed when disgraced, without realizing that favor is often followed by disgrace, and disgrace is often the tail of favor. Fortune and misfortune depend on each other; favor and disgrace cycle around. The sage sees through this and is moved by neither favor nor disgrace, grasping at neither. Only by refusing to sacrifice oneself to the world and holding fast to the Dao (the Way) can one avoid favor and disgrace. Those who covet glory and bend themselves to the world will find it hard to escape fortune and misfortune.

One must be wary not only of rank and title, but also of the burden of ruling the realm. Some people wear shackles and ceremonial robes yet treat the people as chaff. Among the countless millions, some occupy their positions only because circumstances leave them no choice. They should therefore make humility their foundation and calmness their state of mind. The text then returns to the metaphor of entrusting oneself to explain the principles of safety and danger.

Favor and Disgrace Both Bring Alarm

Note

When someone receives favor, they handle it anxiously; when they lose it, they grieve. Their heart has not let go of favor and disgrace, and so they feel “alarm.”

Commentary

“Both” means “alike.” The alarm caused by favor and disgrace is similar. A person receives favor and clings to it; once favor is lost, they fall into disgrace. This shows that people cannot regard honor and disgrace as equal: they boast of their achievements, compete for fame, and cling to power. When favored, they are self-important; when they lose their position, they startle and lament in their lowly, disgraced state. The warning uses the phrase “both bring alarm” to teach people to regard favor and disgrace alike, rather than leaning entirely toward favor or entirely toward disgrace.

Exposition

The sage clearly understands gain and loss, sees honor and disgrace as one, and even regards life and death as a single continuum. How, then, could they fear disgrace because of honor or favor? The text therefore warns people that even receiving favor should bring alarm. This is to make favor and disgrace equal, and gain and loss indistinguishable. The word “alarm” is used because favor is the root of disgrace: how could one fail to be wary?

A ruler who possesses the realm, stands honored in the line of a hundred kings, offers sacrifices to the Most High, and governs all under Heaven must still discipline himself as though driving a rotten cart and remain anxious as though facing a deep ravine. Only then can he enjoy a long life and preserve his far-reaching legacy. The same applies to the fortunes of ministers: the kindness shown through repeated promotions and audiences has already been generous.

Note

This chapter offers three layers of explanation—notes, commentary, and exposition—on Chapter Thirteen of the Daodejing, “Favor and Disgrace Both Bring Alarm.” It comes from the Tang-dynasty Broad Sacred Meaning of the True Scripture of the Way and Its Virtue, written by Master Guangcheng, Du Guangting. The commentary often refers back to the previous chapter and outlines the structure of the present one; the exposition focuses on admonitions for rulers and ministers and on the cultivation of regarding favor and disgrace as one.

Military tallies and seals of office are already weighty responsibilities. Even with lofty caps and great banners, imposing chariots with long axles and red wheels, authority exceeding that of Yi Yin and Gao Yao, and power surpassing that of Wei Qing and Huo Qubing, one must still rise early and retire late, walk as if on thin ice, and stand as if at the edge of an abyss. Only then can one preserve good fortune and avoid downfall. Thus, when the Chief Minister was dismissed three times, he bore no resentment; when Kao Fu was appointed three times, he became ever more respectful. They understood this principle. Wealth and status are things people desire, but if they are not gained through the right way, they should not be claimed. Poverty and low rank are things people dislike, but if they do not come through the right way, one should not cling to them. If one understands the Great Dao, then wealth and poverty, favor and disgrace, gain and loss can no longer unsettle one. The Commentary on the Appended Phrases of the Book of Changes says that good and ill fortune are shared concerns of the people. The orthodox commentary explains that people are troubled not only by misfortune, but also by good fortune. Why? Once good fortune is gained, one worries about losing it. This, too, is what it means to be alarmed by favor and disgrace.

To Regard the Great Calamity as One’s Own Person

Commentary: The person is the root of calamity. To cherish one’s person is therefore like cherishing the great calamity. This passage replies: one regards one’s person as one would a great calamity, yet also says, “regard the great calamity as one’s own person.” The point is to show that the very thought of cherishing oneself is a great calamity. Where there is cherishing, there is a person; and the person itself is a great calamity. Hence it says, “regard the great calamity as one’s own person.” “As” here also means “like.”

Subcommentary: “Cherish” means to prize; “as” also means “like.” The person is the source of trouble. Indulging in sights and sounds, and striving jealously for glory, become sources of trouble because one has a person. What is there to prize in cherishing one’s person? Only the great calamity. The person is itself calamity, with no distinction between the two. One cannot be free of trouble only because one has a person; to prize the person is to prize the great calamity. If one could be free of trouble and also forget the person, one would understand that trouble is bound up with cherishing life, and that the person exists as the source of trouble. Hence it says, “regard the great calamity as one’s own person.”

Meaning: The Perfected person follows the Dao, forgetting both trouble and self. Within, they forget the liver and gallbladder; without, they leave ears and eyes behind. They wander beyond the dust and grime of the world and roam freely in a life of doing nothing. Even with a person, it is as though they had none. How, then, could they worry about its troubles? For ordinary people, the body suffers inwardly from hunger, thirst, and distress, which assail it day and night; outwardly, wind, cold, heat, and dampness continually harm it. Aches and pains, sights and sounds, desires, disputes over right and wrong, and the gains and losses of fame and profit—all six senses are disturbed within, and countless circumstances tug at one from without. All are roots of trouble. The Jing of the Western Ascension says: “The body is the root of distress, of pain and itching.”

Changes in temperature, movements of the mind, bodily fatigue, anxious thoughts and sorrow, vexation and worry—all bind people to the body, so they regard having a body as a great affliction. Looking across past and present, who can preserve the body intact? Affliction comes with the body: while the body exists, affliction exists. Favor and disgrace arise together. When favor reaches its height, disgrace follows. The Old Master feared that people would not understand, so he presented both points to make the meaning clear. He will explain them in detail below and pose another question.

The Tianrui chapter of the Liezi says that from birth to death, the great transformation has four stages: infancy, youth, old age, and death. In infancy, spirit is focused and intention pure; De is full and Qi abundant, and no one can surpass the child’s gentleness and goodness. In youth, blood and Qi are vigorous and vital energy overflows. Desires grow strong and the mind becomes extravagant, so De declines. In old age, desires and thoughts weaken, the body is nearing its rest, and nothing external can take precedence. Compared with youth, Qi is already diminished. In death, one returns to stillness and to the ultimate. These four stages depend on one another and follow in succession. Only those who have attained the Dao can reverse this course and return. Those who cultivate themselves should take this as encouragement.

What is favor and disgrace? Favor is lowly.

Note: The earlier phrase “favor and disgrace bring alarm” may not have been clear, so the text asks, “What is favor and disgrace?” Receiving favor can make a person proud and complacent, which inevitably leads to trouble. This shows that favor is the source of disgrace, hence the answer: “Favor is lowly.”

Commentary: The earlier passage states that favor and disgrace bring alarm. Fearing that people would not understand, it asks, “What is favor and disgrace?” and answers, “Favor is lowly.” The meaning of “favor is lowly” is this: relying on favor makes a person proud and complacent, and pride and complacency bring trouble. When favor leads to misfortune, it is the root of disgrace; therefore, we know that favor is lowly.

Explanation: The Old Master feared that people had not understood the earlier passage, so he posed a question to emphasize its meaning. Having raised the question, he answered it: “Favor is lowly.” Disgrace follows from favor; favor is a stepping stone to misfortune. Ordinary people regard favor as an honor, but the sage sees it as lowly. As for those who rely on favor and grow proud and complacent, the Spring and Autumn Annals, in its account of Duke Yin’s fourth year, tells how the Wei prince Zhou Xu relied on favor and loved military affairs. The minister Shi Que remonstrated with Duke Zhuang of Wei, saying: “I have heard that one should teach a beloved son what is right and not lead him into wrongdoing. Pride, extravagance, licentiousness, and indulgence arise from wrongdoing. These four arise when favor and rank are granted in excess. Few receive favor without becoming proud, become proud yet know how to humble themselves, humble themselves without resentment, and, even when resentful, remain at ease.” The duke did not heed him. The following year, Duke Huan came to the throne, and Zhou Xu… (The historical account continues with the original text.)

Plain-Language Interpretation

Scripture:

Huan Gong was assassinated, and the people of Wei killed Zhou Xu. These are examples of favor bringing disaster. We might say that favor itself can become the root of calamity.

To receive favor is to be as apprehensive as when it is withdrawn. This is what is meant by “favor and disgrace are equally cause for alarm.”

Note: Favor and disgrace follow one another in a recurring cycle; favor is often a sign that disgrace may follow. Most people fear disgrace but do not fear favor. So the sage cautions them: when you receive favor, be as wary as you would be when it is withdrawn; when you suffer disgrace, be as cautious as you would be when receiving favor. This is why it is said, “Favor and disgrace are equally cause for alarm.”

Commentary: Receiving favor is “favor”; losing it is “disgrace.” To be “as apprehensive” means that favor and disgrace are entwined like knots in a cord. People rejoice when favored and panic when disgraced. The sage cautions them that fortune and misfortune recur in cycles, tangled together like a cord: favor and disgrace have no fixed course, so you should not fear disgrace alone. When disgrace comes, fear the danger it brings; when favor comes, fear becoming arrogant, idle, and complacent. These two forms of apprehension are alike. That is why it is said, “Favor and disgrace are equally cause for alarm.”

Meaning: It is ordinary to accept favor without worry and fear only when disgrace comes. A noble person, however, fears becoming arrogant and indulgent when favor arrives, and recognizes the danger when disgrace comes. If you remain apprehensive and careful day after day while favored, you are less likely to fall into disgrace and calamity. If you accept favor without caution, relying on your own arrogance, disgrace and ruin will surely follow. A ruler who relies on Heaven’s favor and shows no concern for the people will lose the Mandate of Heaven. A minister who relies on the ruler’s trust to seize power and oppress those beneath him will face punishment and regret. (“Jiū” means “knot,” and “entwine” means “to wind around”; together, the words describe things bound up with one another without end.)

What is meant by “esteeming great calamity as one esteems the body”?

Note: To ensure that people understand, the text asks: Why should the greatest calamity be regarded as seriously as one regards the body?

Commentary: Because people might not grasp the principle, the text makes its point through a question.

Meaning: People often understand only that they should seek favor, without considering the disgrace that may follow; when disgrace comes, they panic. Laozi warns those who rely on favor, so he asks the question again and answers it.

The reason I have great calamities is that I have a body.

Note: The body is illusory and has no true existence. The root of suffering is the belief “I have this body.” Because pain and pleasure, cold and heat are all tied to the body, it becomes the source of calamity.

Commentary: The reason I suffer such great calamities is that I cling to having a body: I love honor and hate disgrace, argue over right and wrong, and become deeply distressed and fearful when I cannot get what I want. Within, desire exhausts my mind and spirit; outwardly, the struggle to get ahead wears down my body. I am utterly worn out—is this not calamity?

(The passage above freely interprets Chapter 13 of the Dao De Jing, especially “Favor and disgrace are equally cause for alarm” and “esteeming great calamity as one esteems the body,” in light of the commentary in the Guang Sheng Yi. The historical figure Zhou Xu was a ruler of Wei whose favor led to disaster; his story sheds light on the scripture’s phrase “favor is to be lowly.”)

Plain-Language Interpretation

Explanation: “Toil and servitude” means being worn out by labor and demands. “I” and “myself” refer to one’s name and body. Once the bodily form exists, distress and burdens follow. People pursue fame, profit, and status, so they delight in honor and fear losing what they have. They worry about survival and death, and about danger, so they loathe humiliation. If they force their way into worldly affairs and recklessly argue over right and wrong, then, when successful, they grow arrogant and indulge their desires; when disappointed, they become anxious and alarmed, harming their nature. When their nature is harmed, their mind and spirit are drained from within; when they indulge their feelings, they hurry about and toil without. Some grow haggard by the riverside, others tremble with fear beside the marshes. Their bodies are exhausted and their minds enslaved: their suffering has become profound.

Scripture: If I were without this body, what troubles could I have?

Commentary: One who knows that the body, entrusted to us through the harmonizing of Heaven and Earth, does not belong to the self can leave form behind and cast off intellect, realize that the body is not truly a body, and unite with the Great Communion. What trouble could there be then?

Subcommentary: To be “without a body” means to realize that bodily form is illusory and unreal. One should then practice sitting in forgetfulness and relinquishing awareness: sit quietly and forget the body, setting aside deliberate observation; destroy the body’s form and close off the senses. Become, like the Great Communion, without a master, and, like the harmonizing of Heaven and Earth, without a self. Then the paths of honor and disgrace disappear, and feelings of love and aversion come to rest. This is what is meant by “the Emperor’s untying”—as though a suspended bond had been undone. Why remain caught in great troubles? Hence the saying: “If I were without a body, what troubles could I have?” The commentary’s phrase “harmonizing of Heaven and Earth” comes from Zhuangzi’s account of an answer to Emperor Shun’s question: the body does not belong to you; it is what Heaven and Earth have entrusted and harmonized.

Explanation: Being without a body does not mean that the body suddenly ceases to exist. It means that a cultivator of the Dao can forget the body. The Scripture on Karmic Retribution says: “Living beings’ suffering often comes from having a body. They cannot free themselves from the cycle of birth and death. By what means can deluded thoughts be cut off?” The Most High says: “Deluded and inverted thoughts all arise from the mind. People force distinctions and fix their attention on their own bodies; when they meet things, confusion arises, and every movement of the mind becomes delusion. Thus they wander through birth and death.” One need only focus the resolve and contemplate the body, knowing that everything is false. Once this falsity is understood, deluded thoughts gradually diminish. When they have been removed, the inner and outer are clear, and one awakens to the true Dao. This is called forgetting the body. Once the body is forgotten, troubles and burdens cease.

Zhuangzi says: “Coming at the proper time was the Master’s season; the season itself brings life. Going at the proper time was the Master’s accord; according to principle, death is fitting. To be at ease with one’s season and accept what follows from it, letting neither sorrow nor joy enter—this is how an accomplished person forgets the body.” The illusory is false and subject to change; the real is to accord with the Dao. Sitting in forgetfulness and relinquishing awareness means sitting quietly and forgetting the body: forget all things outside, quiet the mind within, and let the mind be like dead ashes and the body like a withered tree. Then worries and troubles will fall away of themselves.

Like a withered tree, one is unaware of having limbs and does not know what sight and hearing are for. Only by casting aside the body, cleverness, and talent can one reach “Great Penetration.” Great Penetration does not mean “understanding everything”; it means being diffuse and without a master. This is what happens when one who has attained the Way forgets the mind. Yan Hui grasped this and told Confucius so. In this state, I do not know the vastness of Heaven and Earth, nor do I claim the light of the sun and moon as my own. How could honor and disgrace, love and aversion, still bind me? The Emperor’s “untying” means that the true nature of nature and life has been realized. Could one still be bound by great troubles? Without a body, there is no trouble: this is the essential teaching of nourishing life.

“Entrusted harmony” comes from the Zhuangzi’s “Knowledge Wanders North.” The body is not yours; it is the form entrusted to you by Heaven and Earth. Life is not yours; it is the harmony entrusted to you by Heaven and Earth. Nature and life are not yours; they are the natural course entrusted to you by Heaven and Earth. The passage says that Heaven and Earth gather Qi (vital energy) to bring life into being, and that Qi rising and falling is called the natural course. If the body were truly yours, you would control beauty and ugliness, life and death. Yet you cannot prevent Qi from gathering to bring you to life, or stop it from dispersing when you die. Understand that the body is entrusted to you, formed through gathering, and brought about naturally; it does not belong to you. Then you walk without knowing where you are going, stay without knowing what you are holding, and eat without knowing what anything tastes like—all within the natural course. To penetrate this is to draw near to the Dao (the Way). What great trouble would there be to fear?

Thus, one who “values the world as they value their own body” seems fit to have the world entrusted to them; one who “cherishes the world as they cherish their own body” seems fit to have the world placed in their care.

Commentary on the chapter’s structure

The chapter begins with a warning about favor and disgrace and ends with the images of entrusting and placing in someone’s care. To be startled by favor or disgrace is to have not yet forgotten them. To value and cherish one’s own body is to have not yet forgotten value and affection. Thus, when favor is compared with disgrace, disgrace is treated as lesser than favor; when valuing is compared with cherishing, valuing is treated as lesser than cherishing. Those startled by favor and disgrace still hold them in their hearts; those who retain value and affection have not yet forgotten the world altogether. The chapter first says to regard favor as lightly as disgrace, then goes on to call for forgetting both together. The near-name expressions “entrusted” and “placed in someone’s care” illustrate the furthest reach of forgetting both: forget favor and disgrace, and one is no longer startled; forget the body, and there is no trouble. Forget the world at its root, and there are no longer even such near-name expressions as entrusting it or placing it in someone’s care.

Commentary on a ruler’s self-importance

A ruler who takes pride in his own person and regards himself as master of the world uses his elevated status to lord it over others. The people will not rally to him; at best, the world can only be entrusted to him temporarily.

General Meaning of the Scripture

If a ruler relies on his exalted status and uses favor and force as tools of governance, indulges his private desires, and pursues the utmost luxury—harming the people and waging endless wars abroad, building towers and palaces of jade at home, and sinking into extravagances such as pools of wine and forests of meat—he gathers the grievances of all under Heaven just to buy himself a moment of ease. He digs deep moats to raise his prestige and hands out pleasure gardens and ponds as rewards. Though his inner palace is crowded with consorts, he fails to see that the people’s hearts have turned away and his De has been lost, yet still hopes to establish a legacy for ten thousand generations. He will be ruined before long; his place in the world is only a temporary lodging.

Commentary (Elaboration)

If a ruler makes care for himself the basis of governing the world, then caring for himself will lead him to show compassion for the people. Showing compassion for the people will lead him to share their joys. Only then can he entrust his person and household to the people and remain their ruler for a long time.

Further Meaning

A ruler who governs the world by caring for himself must be respectful, humble, frugal, and restrained. Humility and respect prevent grievances from arising; frugality and restraint prevent extravagant appetites from taking hold. When there are no grievances, the people live in peace; when there are no extravagant appetites, the people prosper. In this way, he lives in harmony with his extended family and draws close to the people; those far away become attached, those nearby gladly submit, and people at every level care for one another. He does not keep horses brought from a thousand miles away or consume the wealth of ten households. His meals are plain, his palaces humble, he wages no wars abroad, and he does not exhaust the people at home. Only by enjoying a long reign can he truly entrust himself to all under Heaven.

Commentary (Following the Meaning of the Previous Chapter)

This chapter begins with “being startled by favor and disgrace” and ends with “entrusting oneself.” Its point is that forgetting favor and disgrace is better than being startled by them; forgetting status and self-regard is better than preserving them; and forgetting the world is better than entrusting oneself to it. “Great calamity” arises because “I have a self.” To remain startled by favor and disgrace shows that one has not yet become selfless. When all are forgotten, every concern returns to a single point. Clinging to the self makes myriad things compete for precedence. So, forget favor and disgrace, and there is nothing left to startle you; forget the self, and the root of calamity disappears; forget the world, and the attachment to entrusting yourself to it falls away. In matters of rank and position, this gives rise above to a ruler who is “supreme,” and below to ministers who “know little.” Through Wuwei (non-action), nothing is left undone; without claiming De, De is fulfilled.

Further Meaning (Restated)

The self is the root of calamity, and favor and disgrace arise from it. If one can forget the self, one can forget favor and disgrace. To forget favor and disgrace means not to rejoice when favor arrives, since one knows it has its time, and not to be startled when disgrace arrives, since one knows it will pass. One is not puffed up or cast down by wealth and status, nor shaken by poverty and low position. Who but a person of the highest attainment could reach this state? Forgetting the self, one’s person joins with the Dao and rises into the clouds and heavens, acting without action in accord with the Dao… (In contrast to the previous chapter’s “esteeming and caring for oneself” and “entrusting oneself to the world,” this passage focuses on moving from attachment to having a self toward the Dao of forgetting the self.)

Who but one who has attained the utmost Dao could reach this state? “Forgetting the world” means keeping the mind and spirit detached, empty, and still, practicing Wuwei (non-action), and allowing all things to unfold naturally without letting selfish desires and distracting thoughts disturb one’s attention. Free of self-interest and ego, all under Heaven will naturally find their proper order.

Then the eyes cling to nothing, the ears are tainted by nothing, and the mind is bound to nothing. Qi (vital energy) flows unimpeded, Shen (spirit) remains within the body, and the body can thereby endure for a long time. One’s merit extends throughout the myriad kingdoms without claiming it as one’s own; one nurtures and transforms the myriad things without possessing them. One has no name or title, allowing each thing to fulfill its nature. One stands in what cannot be fathomed and roams in the realm of nonbeing, sharing one body with the myriad things, and ultimately returns to emptiness.

Thus, the Yellow Emperor attained the Dao and ascended to Heaven, while Taihao attained the Dao and rose to the mysterious heights. The sage reaches the Dao precisely by “forgetting the world.” For an explanation of “the highest ruler, whose subjects know him only slightly,” see chapter 17 of this book.

This text is a Tang-dynasty commentary on the Dao De Jing, Guangshengyi. It uses the examples of the Yellow Emperor and Taihao, ancient sage-kings who attained the Dao and ascended to Heaven, to illustrate the sage’s practice of “forgetting the world” and abiding in emptiness and Wuwei. The closing phrase, “the highest ruler, whose subjects know him only slightly,” echoes wording from chapter 17 of the Dao De Jing and directs readers there for a fuller explanation.