In the meantime, the government in Lhasa had sent a representative to Tsurphu asking to be shown the prediction letter, “According to your tradition, the Karmapa always leaves an exact description of where he will take his next rebirth. We would like to see it!”
They found the earlier prediction letter but noticed that the Karmapa had added a sentence at the bottom, “The coincidence for this has dissolved.” A frantic search for another letter began.
Jampal Tsultrim was gone; Khenpo Lekshey, having entered strict retreat, was incommunicado; and Khandro Chenmo was devastated. Nobody thought to even ask her about the letter. The search team rifled through every single one of Khakyab Dorje’s books. They even tore open his mattress. But, of course, they came up with nothing—Jampal Tsultrim was unsuspectingly wandering about in distant Golok with the letter in the box around his neck.
Finally, the Tsurphu officials were forced to admit that they had no letter. Soon after, the thirteenth Dalai Lama’s office issued a formal statement that the Karmapa’s reincarnation had been born as the son of one of the cabinet ministers in Lhasa.
This news reached all the way to Golok. Hearing it, Jampal Tsultrim cut his stay short and hurried back to Tsurphu. As soon as he arrived, he exclaimed, “What do you mean there is no prediction letter? I have it right here!” And he opened his reliquary box and showed it to the general secretary at Tsurphu.
“You enemy of the Dharma! How could you do something like this?!?” exclaimed the general secretary angrily. “You should be immediately tossed into prison!”
“Throw me into prison if you like, if it will help in any way. The letter, however, is right here in my hand. There is no mistake.”
“This is a disaster! The government of Tibet has already nominated another tulku. What are we going to do?” the general secretary asked, perplexed.
A messenger was immediately sent at top speed to the great Situ of Palpung in faraway Kham. And as the Karma Kagyu and Drukpa Kagyu were enjoying very harmonious relations at the time, another messenger was sent to the Drukchen Jamgön to ask his advice. The counsel of other respected lamas was also sought.
One lama stressed the importance of being in harmony with the Tibetan government. But the Drukchen reportedly differed, saying, “If the Karmapa is not the right one, then the chances are nil that future Kagyu tulkus will be accurately identified.”
So he suggested that all the monasteries perform extensive ceremonies petitioning the Dharma protectors for their blessings. At the same time, a delegation was sent to Lhasa informing the government of the newfound letter, with the message, “We have found the Karmapa’s prediction letter and it is authentic.”
The officials at the central government replied, “First you say there is no letter and now you say there is. The office of the Dalai Lama has already issued a position. It cannot be changed.”
The petitioning and refusal went back and forth for an entire year. Then one day, while playing on a rooftop near the Potala, the cabinet minister’s son fell and broke his pelvis. In those days, such injuries were very serious and the boy soon died of complications. Now the Tsurphu office was asked to send out a search party for another candidate.
As the Karmapa had written the prediction letter in beautiful poetry with extremely precise details, Tsurphu only submitted a single candidate—the one identified in the letter. The Lhasa government replied, “You cannot submit just one candidate. That’s the same as you deciding who the tulku is. If you are asking us to decide, which is the tradition, you must submit two or three different choices and we will decide which one it is.”
Again Tsurphu was in major turmoil and one meeting followed another.
But the Khyentse of Palpung, another important lama from Kham, was not only very wise but also very clever. He came up with an idea to circumvent the proud officials in Lhasa. “Make one candidate’s name the son of the father,” he suggested, “and the ‘other’ candidate, the name of the son of the mother.” So they wrote down two different names for the same boy, sent them to the government and awaited their reply. When it finally came, it said, “The correct tulku is the son of the mother, not the son of the father.”
This was how the authentic tulku of the fifteenth Karmapa was established at Tsurphu after many trials and tribulations.
When I think of the fifteenth Karmapa, Khakyab Dorje, I am struck with amazement! To have such far-reaching powers of clairvoyance!
Among the many remarkable masters who were disciples of Chokgyur Lingpa, one of the foremost was the learned scholar Karmey Khenpo. He was regarded as a reincarnation of Shantarakshita, the great pandita from Sahor in India who was the very first master invited to Tibet for the construction of Samye monastery.
Karmey Khenpo started out as a Kagyu practitioner and the main khenpo-preceptor—abbot and chief teacher—at Karma Gön, one of the three seats of the Karmapa.
He was no ordinary person, and an ancient terma by Padmasambhava predicted he would become Chokgyur Lingpa’s main disciple. He became a very devoted follower and extremely realized. Yet he usually served as Chokgyur Lingpa’s attendant, even though he was said to be as learned as the renowned fifteenth-century master Karma Chagmey. The erudite Dudjom Rinpoche—one of the most outstanding masters of recent times—was amazed by Karmey Khenpo’s writings and once told me, “It’s so wonderful that someone like Karmey Khenpo could possibly exist in this world.”
My grandmother told me, “When I was young and went to see my father, if Karmey Khenpo was in with him, I would complain to my mother, ‘Now we have no chance of seeing Daddy. Karmey Khenpo just slipped in and for sure he’ll stay in there for at least an hour or two!’
“He seemed to have endless questions, and he always carried a silver ink pot, a bamboo pen and some blank paper, so that when he asked Chokgyur Lingpa questions he could write down the answers on the spot.62 He was an extraordinary master; he looked like one of the sixteen arhats in the traditional fresco paintings.”
Karmey Khenpo adhered strictly to the rules for a monk: during his entire life he never let meat or alcohol touch his tongue. It was also said that his hand had never even grazed a woman nor had he ever allowed a lie to cross his lips.
Even though he was so gifted and close to Chokgyur Lingpa, Karmey Khenpo never had the good fortune to receive the Three Sections of the Great Perfection from the great tertön in person. He was a bit upset at not receiving it. “Chokgyur Lingpa had so many termas,” Karmey Khenpo would lament, “but the one I regard as the real essence I haven’t had the good fortune to receive.” I was told he agonized over it. But after the tertön passed away, Karmey Khenpo had a vision of Chokgyur Lingpa’s wisdom-body and received the complete empowerments and transmissions of the Three Sections then. This restored his self-confidence.
“Even though I was never lucky enough to receive the Three Sections while Chokgyur Lingpa was alive, my transmission is unique,” he later told the Chokling of Tsikey, a reincarnation of Chokgyur Lingpa.63
“After Chokgyur Lingpa dissolved into the basic space beyond form,” he explained, “his immaculate wisdom-body appeared before me and transmitted the Three Sections to me in full. As I am the only one to have received this transmission mind-to-mind, it is not just unique but of a higher level than yours. Because of that, this lineage I now hold should not be broken. I could pass it on to whomever requests it, but I won’t. Since you are the tertön’s reincarnation, you should possess both lineages, so I will give the empowerment to you and you only.”64
“Karmey