The Little Book

of the

Life of the Buddha

by Eric K. Van Horn

edited by Rebecca C. Van Horn

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Smashwords Publishing

eBook ISBN: 9781311285966

First Edition 2016

Revised 2017 (2)

Dedicated to my teachers

who have helped me inch my way,

breath by breath,

to an understanding of the Dharma.

“‘The safe and good path to be traveled joyfully’ is a term for the Noble Eight Book Path.”

The Little Books on Buddhism series:

Book 1: The Little Book of Buddhist Meditation: Establishing a daily meditation practice

Book 2: The Little Book on Buddhist Virtue: The Buddha’s teachings on happiness through skillful conduct

Book 3: The Little Book of the Life of the Buddha

Book 4: The Little Book of Buddhist Wisdom: The Buddha’s teachings on the Four Noble Truths, the three marks of existence, causality, and karma

Book 5: The Little Book of Buddhist Mindfulness & Concentration

Book 6: The Little Book of Buddhist Daily Living: The Discipline for Lay People

Book 7: The Little Book of Buddhist Rebirth

Book 8: The Little Book of Buddhist Awakening: The Buddha’s instructions on attaining enlightenment

Also by this author:

The Travel Guide to the Buddha’s Path

Table of Contents

Preface

Terminology and Conventions

Abbreviations Used for Pāli Text References

1. Introduction

Sources

Archeology

The Chinese Pilgrims

Later Biographies

Sorting It Out

The Buddha’s Nature

2. India in the Fifth Century BCE

3. Birth and Early Life

4. Homeleaving

5. The Noble Quest

6. Seven Weeks from May

Week 1: Under the Bodhi Tree

Week 2: Gazing at the Tree

Week 3: The Golden Bridge

Week 4: The Jeweled Chamber

Week 5: The True Brahmin

Week 6: The Serpent King

Week 7: Tapussa and Bhallika

7. The First Sermon

Thank You, Brahmā Sahampati

An Encounter With a Skeptic

The Deer Park

8. The Early Saṇgha

Yasa

Return to Uruvelā

9. Return to Rājagaha

King Bimbisāra

The Two Chief Disciples

10. Return to Sakya

11. Two Gentlemen of India

Jīvaka

Anāthapiṇḍika

12. King Pasenadi

13. The Order of Bhikkhunīs

14. Kosambī

The Quarreling Monks

Blending Like Milk and Water

The Lay People Speak

15. Singing for Your Supper

16. Visākhā

17. Aṇgulimāla, The Murderer

18. Ānanda

19. The Middle Period

Death at Vesāli

Question, Question, Question!

The Handful of Leaves

20. The Final Decade

Devadatta and Ajātasattu

Bimbisāra Abdicates

Assassination Attempts

Schism

War with Kosala

Be Careful How You Give Advice

King Pasenadi Dies

The Greatest Generation

The Great Passing

21. Postscript

Appendices

Appendix A - Glossary of Terms

Appendix B - Bibliography

Appendix C - Buddhist Cosmology

Preface

Namo tassa bhagavato arahato samma sambuddhassa

Homage to the blessed, noble, and perfectly Enlightened One.

- [Homage to the Buddha]

This is the third book in the Little Books on Buddhism series. As with the other volumes, there is a corresponding section in my first book, The Travel Guide to the Buddha’s Path. There is a brief section in the Travel Guide on the Buddha’s path to awakening. But here I will expand on that, to include not just that part of the Buddha’s life, but to go back to his childhood, the time before he left on his spiritual quest, and the 45 years that followed when he taught the Dharma until his death at the age of 80.

The many dubious, mythologized accounts of the Buddha’s life inspired this little volume. Do an Internet search for “Buddha biography” and you will find many of them. There are even movies and TV series that are not remotely related to the facts.

This is a shame, not only because they are not true, but because the real story of the Buddha’s life does not need any embellishment. It is an extraordinary tale.

Thus, I hope that this book provides a glimpse into the person who became the Buddha. It is an awe-inspiring life. And in a world that is still so often driven by hatred, fear, delusion, and greed, the Buddha’s message of compassion, equanimity, wisdom, and awakening is as important today as it was in ancient India.

Eric Van Horn
Rio Rancho, New Mexico
21-July-2016
nobleeightfoldblog.com

Terminology and Conventions

Because the Buddhist Canon that I use is in the Pāli language, I usually use Pāli terms. However, some Sanskrit Buddhist terms have become common in the English language and it seems rather affected not to use them. The two most obvious examples are the words “nirvāṇa,” which is “nibbāna” in Pāli, and “Dharma,” which is “Dhamma” in Pāli. For the most part, I use the commonly known terms. But if it seems awkward to have the Pāli terms in quotes or in certain words (like Dhammacakkappavattana) and use the Sanskrit terms in the main text, I use the Pāli words.

I try to avoid technical terms in the beginning of the guide until you can get used to them. However, if there are terms with which you are unfamiliar, they should be in the glossary in Appendix A.

As per APA style guidelines, book names are italicized (i.e., Foundations of Buddhism) and magazine articles and Internet resources are capitalized and quoted (i.e., “The Benefits of Walking Meditation”).

Internet Conventions

There are many references to resources that are on the Internet. This is always a problem because hyperlinks are notoriously unreliable. Thus, I have adopted a convention of putting Internet search keywords in the text as well as a hyperlink to the resource. For example, a reference to Thich Nhat Hahn’s gāthās (“poems”) is “thich nhat hanh gathas here and now.” If links are supported and the link is not broken, clicking on the search keywords will open that resource. If you are reading this in a context where Internet links are not supported or the link is broken, you can still find the resource by doing a search using the keywords. If you use the search keywords, the resource should be the first one in the search result list.

The other case is when an article is cited. It will look like this:

- [Sayadaw U Silananda, “The Benefits of Walking Meditation”]

Again, if your reader does not support hyperlinks or the link is broken, searching on the author’s name and the article name should get you to the article. Some names and words use diacritical marks and you may have to remove them to find the correct resource. For example, for the name “Ṭhānissaro” use the non-diacritical form “Thanissaro.”

Abbreviations Used for Pāli Text References

AN: Aṇguttara Nikāya, The Numerical Discourses of the Buddha

Bv: Buddhavaṃsa, Chronicle of Buddhas

BvA: Buddhavaṃsatthakathā, commentary to the Buddhavaṃsa

Cv: Cullavagga, the “smaller book,” the second volume in the Khandhaka, which is the second book of the monastic code (the Vinaya)

Dhp: Dhammapada, The Path of Dhamma, a collection of 423 verses

DhpA: Dhammapada-aṭṭhakathā, commentary to the Dhammapada

DN: Digha Nikāya, The Long Discourses of the Buddha

Iti: Itivuttaka, This Was Said (by the Buddha), a.k.a., Sayings of the Buddha

Ja: Jātaka Tales, previous life stories of the Buddha

JaA: Jātaka-aṭṭhakathā, commentary on the Jātaka Tales

Khp: Khuddakapāṭha, Short Passages

MA: Majjhima Nikāya Aṭṭhakathā, commentary on the Middle Length Discourses of the Buddha (by Buddhaghosa)

MN: Majjhima Nikāya, The Middle Length Discourses of the Buddha

Mv: Mahāvagga, the first volume in the Khandhaka, which is the second book of the monastic code (the Vinaya)

Pm: Pātimokkha, The Code of Monastic Discipline, the first book of the monastic code (the Vinaya)

SN: Saṃyutta Nikāya, The Connected Discourses of the Buddha

S Nip: Sutta Nipāta, The Sutta Collection, literally, “suttas falling down,” a sutta collection in the Khuddaka Nikāya consisting mostly of verse

Sv: Sutta-vibhaṇga: Classification of the Suttas, the “origin stories” for the Pātimokkha rules

Thag: Theragāthā: Verses of the Elder Monks

ThagA: Theragāthā-aṭṭhakathā, Commentary to the Theragāthā

Thig: Therīgāthā: Verses of the Elder Nuns

ThigA: Therīgāthā-aṭṭhakathā, Commentary to the Therīgāthā

Ud: Udana, Exclamations, the third book of the Khuddaka Nikāya

Vin: Vinaya Pitaka, Basket of Discipline, the monastic rules for monks and nuns.

1. Introduction

Homage to you, O Self-developed One

whose good works are many and wondrous,

whose virtues are too numerous and awesome to define.

Their number? They are infinite.

Their nature? Words must fail.

But to speak of them bestows great good, so I shall speak much.

- [Matrceta, Hymn to the Buddha]

Sources

There are many people who say that we do not know much about the life of the Buddha and I find that puzzling. Buddhism has a vast literature, one that is truly unique. The main source for the story of the Buddha is the Pāli Canon. (Pāli is the more or less original language of Buddhism.) The Pāli Canon consists of five collections of discourses. There is also the monastic code, which is a separate volume, and later commentarial literature.

The four main collections, that are called “nikāyas” in Pāli, are over 6,000 pages in English translation. The monastic code, or Vinaya, is over 700 pages, and the fifth collection of discourses has either 15 volumes or 18 volumes depending on which source you use. This fifth collection has 550 Jātaka tales, a hagiography called the Buddhavaṃsa and other volumes such as the Udana (Exclamations) and the Dhammapada (Path of the Dhamma, sort of the Bartlett’s Quotations of Buddhism), all of which contain biographical material. The problem is not so much that we don’t have enough information; it is that there is so much of it.

One of the challenges in writing a biography of the Buddha is that often a single story spreads across multiple volumes. It might begin in a sutta (a “discourse” of the Buddha), be part of a chronology in the Vinaya, and have its ending in a Jātaka tale (the Buddhist version of an Aesop’s Fable). The purpose of the Pāli Canon is to teach the Dharma, not to provide a biographical chronology. So you have to do some detective work to piece it all together. (Others have done most of this work. I am simply following in their considerable footsteps.)

There is also material written after the Buddha’s death. These works are the “commentaries.” In Pāli, any book that has the word “aṭṭhakathā” after it is a commentary. The commentaries have varying degrees of believability, but they sometimes provide important details about the life and times of the Buddha.

Figure: Thai version of the Pāli Canon

Archeology

In the last 200 years or so there has been an extraordinary amount of archeology that has added to our knowledge of Buddhist India. One particularly fascinating read is The Search for the Buddha by Charles Allen. This is not a book about Buddhism. It is a book about how European “Orientalists” found some of the lost sites of the Buddha’s life, and deciphered ancient texts in the same way that the Rosetta Stone provided a gateway into ancient Egypt.

Figure: Young James Prinsep, drawn by his sister Emily

Some of this work was heroic, particularly in a world where being European was “superior” and anything Asian was “inferior.” One of the most important of the Orientalists was James Prinsep, a civil engineer who fell in love with Indian culture and history. Prinsep, sadly, died prematurely at the age of 40 from exhaustion and overwork, but his legacy of landmark work on all things Indian as well as his good heart and charitable ventures give him a special place in both Buddhist and Indian history.

We even have remains of the Buddha. After the Buddha’s cremation the kingdoms in northeastern India divided the ashes. Some centuries later the great King Asoka divided the ashes again. Some of these remains have been found, most famously at the Piprahwa stupa in Birdpur, India.

There are also later references (200 BCE or thereabouts) to the historical Buddha on monuments like the Ashokan pillar in Lumbini, Nepal. The Buddha was born in Lumbini, and King Ashoka put up a pillar granting the people of Lumbini a tax break because the Buddha was born there.

The Chinese Pilgrims

We have some invaluable travelogues from the first millennium by Chinese Buddhist monks. India was a mainly Buddhist country from about 200 BCE until about 600-800 CE. At the end of the first millennium CE, Muslim invaders destroyed the great Buddhist universities, temples, and monasteries and drove Buddhism from its ancestral home in India.

By that time, however, Buddhism had spread to most of Asia, as far north as Mongolia and southern Russia, as far south as Indonesia, Malaysia, and Sri Lanka, and as far east as Japan. Two important Chinese Buddhist monks traveled to India to see the Buddhist sites and bring back Buddhist texts to China. The first of these was Faxian, who went to India in about 399 CE. The second was Xuanzang, who left China for India in 629 CE. They documented their travels and their journeys, and these journals provided clues to archeologists in the 18th and 19th centuries so lost Buddhist sites could be rediscovered. Our ability to visit these important places in India today is in large part thanks to Faxian and Xuanzang.

Thus we have an extensive record, both in the Buddhist literature and the archeological record. From these we have a great deal of information from which to recreate the history of Buddhism in India and the life of the Buddha himself.

Later Biographies

There are a number of biographies written during the first millennium, starting around 200 BCE. This is when Buddhism was the religion of choice in India. These texts include The Buddhacarita: Acts of the Buddha, an epic Sanskrit poem written by Aśvaghoṣa in the early first millennium (500-600 years after the Buddha’s death), the Lalitavistara Sūtra: The Play in Full (date unknown, but probably not before the first millennium), and the Mahāvastu: The Great Story, probably from the 2nd century BCE. These books contain stories that became an important part of the Buddhist tradition. However, most of these are almost surely fabricated. As Michael Carrithers dryly notes:

Later traditions embroidered a great deal on the Buddha’s early life, but of this we can rely on little.

- [Michael Carrithers, The Buddha]

Unfortunately many modern biographies use these rather fantastic tales as their basis.

Sorting It Out

Given all of this material, the obvious question is how do we make sense of it all? The approach that I have taken is to break everything out into four bins. In the first bin are stories that we are pretty sure are true. We have good evidence from multiple sources, sometimes backed up by archeological evidence that makes them pretty certain.

In the next bin is stories that we are pretty sure did not happen. They are found only in later literature, they are not consistent with the earlier accounts, and there is no corroborating evidence. They are myths. However, sometimes the myths are an important part of the tradition, and they give useful lessons. In these cases, I tell the story, but I identify it as almost certainly a myth.

(Some people turn up their noses at myths. But as Joseph Campbell pointed out, a myth is a metaphor. And sometimes the historically accurate story is not as compelling as the mythological one. You are more likely to remember an Aesop’s Fable than something you read in a psychology book.)

The third category is stories about which we cannot be sure; we simply don’t know if the story is true. Some of these stories are probably difficult for a Western audience to hear, but they are plausible nonetheless. Buddhism is a mystical religion. The mind does extraordinary things. In these cases, I simply tell the story, and you can be the judge.

The fourth category is stories that I chose to leave out. This is either because they do not add anything to the story of the Buddha’s life, or they are too fantastic, in my view, to be believable. And, frankly, sometimes it is just because there are too many stories to tell.

One of the things that I discovered in researching this book is that many of the stories are now being told in a way that strays from the original meaning. A version of the story gets picked up and repeated verbatim by 200 Internet sites. I have gone to great lengths to go back to the original canonical source to get the story as correct as possible. This is one reason that you will see so many quotes. I use the original translation so you see the words for yourself.

On the other hand, I am not trying to write a perfectly factual book about the life of the Buddha. I am here to tell a story. John F. Kennedy once said that a biography should answer the question, “What was that person like.” And that has been my guiding principle.

The Buddha’s Nature

I have two goals with this book. The first is to provide a reasonable account of the Buddha’s life. I believe that is possible. We have a great deal of information about the Buddha and his life. And while every detail contained here may not be precisely correct, the objective is to tell a story that gives a good idea of what the Buddha was like and show the course of his life.

The second goal is to present the life of the Buddha as an archetype for our own spiritual journey. In Buddhist practice this is the purpose of learning about the Buddha’s life. And this brings up some interesting points.

First, the Buddha was a real human being who lived. You will sometimes read an article about whether there really was such a person as the Buddha. There is no doubt that the Buddha lived and that he was a real person. As noted above, we have a staggering amount of information about the Buddha. Not only do we have the vast literature of the Pāli Canon and the archeological record, there is the compelling evidence of the Pāli Canon itself. When European scholars began to unravel the mysteries of the Buddhist religion in the 18th and 19th centuries, they thought at first that the canonical literature might be a composite work, the result of different minds. But they quickly concluded that the teachings are so coherent and cogent that they can only be the work of a single, genius mind.

The second issue is the nature of the Buddha. It is clear from the Buddhist texts that the Buddha was a human being. There is no account in the original discourses that suggests that he was anything but a human being. Later traditions mythologized the Buddha in many ways. One story holds that the Buddha was already awakened before he was born. This would not make sense because of the enormous struggle he went through to awaken. It also does not make sense because a Buddha is free from the cycles of rebirth, so if he were already awakened, he would not have been reborn.

You will sometimes hear the criticism that claiming the Buddha is “merely human” is a sign of disrespect. But I think the opposite is true. To claim that the Buddha had some advantage in being more than human is to disrespect the extraordinary effort he exerted to awaken.

The Buddha did live, he was a human being, and the story of his life is an inspiration. “Recollection of the Buddha” is a way to inspire us in our practice and in our lives. And Buddhists through the centuries have taken refuge in the Buddha as a safe harbor from the stresses and difficulties of life. The Buddha cared deeply about our freedom from stress and suffering. He did not have a hidden agenda. He taught us how to solve our fundamental problems of living, and we are deeply blessed to have such an extensive record of what he taught and who he was.

2. India in the Fifth Century BCE

In the fifth century BCE Indian civilization centered in the Ganges River Valley, which is in northeastern India. But that is not where Indian history begins. An earlier civilization grew up in northwestern India in the Indus River Valley. (The word “Indus” is where India gets its name.) Relatively recent archeology, circa 1920, has uncovered a number of these early Indian cities, most notably Harappa and Mohenjo Darro.

Figure: The Indus River Civilization

There are some interesting aspects to these early cities. There are no palaces or large houses. This indicates an egalitarian society. There are no temples, which is especially interesting for a country that puts religion at its foundation. However, small clay objects were found that appear to have pictures of meditators on them, so they may have practiced meditation.

Subsequently, Aryans came down from the north and either conquered or simply merged with Harappan culture. The Aryans brought a different culture with their own Vedic religion, and a class system called the “Varṇas.” The Varṇa class system divided all Aryans into three hereditary classes, the brahmins, whose duty is to maintain the Vedic religious tradition, the kṣatriyas, who were the ruling and warrior class, and the vaiśyas, who were the agricultural and merchant class. Non-Aryans made up a fourth class, the sudras, or servants.

(The Buddha is sometimes criticized for not talking about untouchability. But untouchables did not exist in India until after the Buddha died.)

Eventually, the brahmins would be the most powerful class, but during the Buddha’s time, the kṣatriyas yielded the most power.

The merging of these two cultures influenced the India of the Buddha’s time. By his time, there were two different religious groups. Vedic religion, which was the precursor to Hinduism, centered on animal sacrifice and complex rituals performed by the brahmin priests. Vedic religion believed in reincarnation and that the release from an endless cycle of rebirths could only be achieved through the skillful performance of these rituals. The belief in reincarnation may have been adapted from the earlier Indus River civilization.

In contrast to the brahmins were the “samaṇas,” or “recluses.” They did not accept the Vedic religion. They were usually celibate, and they lived by begging for alms. Their status in Indian society was by virtue of renunciation and not membership in a Varṇa. They were religious seekers who spent their lives in homelessness, roaming around the countryside preaching their various doctrines and sometimes debating with each other. Many of them adopted severe ascetic practices.

There were key threads that ran through the religious and philosophical thinking in ancient India. These included the concept of Dharma, the concept of karma, and the belief in reincarnation.

1. Dharma (Sanskrit, Pāli: Dhamma)

2. Karma (Sanskrit, Pāli: Kamma)

3. Reincarnation (usually called “rebirth” in Buddhism to distinguish it from the idea that some permanent entity is reborn)

While the word “Dharma” is now associated with Buddhism, in ancient India it was a more general term. Dharma has two aspects to it. The first aspect is an understanding of how things are, of the basic nature of life, or, as Douglas Adams put it, “life, the universe, and everything.”

The second aspect of Dharma is that given a certain understanding of how things are, there is a way to act and behave that is in harmony with that understanding. As Rupert Gethin says:

The notion of Dharma in Indian thought thus has both a descriptive and a prescriptive aspect: it is the way things are and the way to act.

- [Rupert Gethin, The Foundations of Buddhism]

The religious schools of ancient India all had different Dharmas, and this was one feature that distinguished one group from another.

The second common thread is karma. The fundamental idea of karma is that all beings have a mixture of good and bad karma. These are like seeds, and a seed will manifest when the proper conditions exist. Whether such a thing as karma exists, and how you accumulate it, is one of the things that differentiated the schools of Indian thought.

The final thread in ancient Indian thought is the belief in reincarnation. The idea of reincarnation is that when you die, you are reborn into a certain realm depending on your karma. The different realms include the heavenly realms, the human realm, the animal realm, the ghost realm, and the hell realm. Of course, some schools did not believe in reincarnation, and some did not believe in karma, but all schools would have addressed those issues because they were so common in Indian thought.

The Buddha grew up in Sakya (Pāli, Sanskrit: Śākya, also “Shakya”), which straddles the border between modern-day India and Nepal. Sakya was just to the north of the Aryan kingdoms of Kosala and Magadha, which were the two Indian superpowers of the day. Sakya was an early Indian republic. It is sometimes described as an “oligarchy.” Sakya paid tribute to Kosala. Elected chieftains, approved by the King of Kosala, ruled Sakya. The Buddha’s father, Suddhodana, was one of those chieftains. Certainly his father was a wealthy, powerful, and influential person by the standards of the day. Tradition later held that the young Buddha-to-be was a prince who was born to a royal family, but this is not entirely accurate. In fact, the democratic, egalitarian ideals of the early Indian republics stood in contrast to the more heavy-handed monarchies.

The Buddha grew up in a society that did not have a Varṇa system. (When he was in the Varṇa societies of India the Buddha described himself as being a member of the kṣatriya class.) He used this horizontal social model when he founded the monastic Saṇgha. Likewise, he probably adopted the same system of seniority used in Sakya.

It was against this backdrop of Indian society that a woman named Maya gave birth to a baby boy, naming him “Siddhartha Gautama.”

(I went to a retreat once where the teacher claimed that we do not know what the Buddha’s birth name was. I have never been able to find any evidence that this is true. While the name “Siddhartha” is not used in the Pāli Canon, the early Buddhist commentaries use it.)

3. Birth and Early Life

We don’t know exactly when the Buddha was born. There are different timelines, starting from as early as 624 BCE to as late as 400 BCE. The most recent scholarship puts his birth at between 480 BCE and 460 BCE. Since he lived 80 years, and that we do know, that would put his death at around 400 BCE [Peter Harvey, An Introduction to Buddhism].

The term “Buddha” is an honorific title that means “one who is awake.” According to the Buddhist tradition, the historical person that we know as the Buddha is the 25th Buddha. A previous Buddha, “Dīpaṃkara,” inspired the Buddha in a past lifetime when the Buddha was an ascetic named “Sumedha.” Sumedha vowed to become a Buddha, making him a “Bodhisatta” (Pāli, Sanskrit: Bodhisatva), a person who aspires to become a Buddha. [Bv, Dīpaṃkaravaṃsa] Part of this tradition is that there are cycles in which a Bodhisatta is born, becomes a Buddha, teaches the Dharma, and then over time the teaching becomes corrupt and is eventually lost. The cycle begins anew when another Buddha is born, and so on. Thus, it is part of the Buddhist tradition that it dies out. A cycle in which a Buddha’s teaching is known is a “sāsana,” or “Buddha-sāsana” (“Buddha’s dispensation”).

(The Bodhisatta working on the next sāsana is “Metteyya” [Pāli, Sanskrit: Maitreya], “the future Buddha.”)

It takes many lifetimes to develop the qualities that are necessary to become a Buddha. The stories of the Buddha’s lives as a Bodhisatta are in the Jātaka tales ("previous life stories of the Buddha"), which are in the Khuddaka Nikāya (“Collection of Little Texts”) of the Pāli Canon. Many of them are probably adaptations of non-Buddhist Indian folk tales. They are the Aesop’s Fables of Buddhism. While it would be a stretch to believe that they are factual accounts of previous lives, the stories are quite charming, and they are a wonderful way to learn about the virtuous qualities that one should develop to live a happier, more skillful life.

In addition, the Jātakas have a “story in the present” that gives the context in which the Jātaka was told. These “stories in the present” contain a lot of biographical material about the Buddha and the people of his time.

Prior to the Buddha being born in his last life, he lived in the Tusita (Pāli, Sanskrit: Tuṣita) heaven, which is one of the many heavens in the Buddhist cosmology.

Suddhodana, the Buddha’s father, was, as noted, the rāja of Sakya. He married two sisters from the neighboring region of Devadaha. One was “Māyā,” who was his principal wife, and the other was “Pajāpati,” who was his secondary wife. Pajāpati had two biological children, a son called “Nanda,” and a daughter called “Nandā.” Nandā was born just a few days after the Buddha.

Māyā became pregnant for the first time at the age of 40. As was the custom of the time, when she got close to her delivery date she left Kapilavattu (Pāli, Sanskrit: Kapilivastu, the capital of Sakya, where they lived) to travel to her family’s home in Devadaha. Unfortunately, she never made it. She went into labor in Lumbini (modern-day Rummindai, Nepal), and gave birth there. According to the tradition, the Buddha was born on the first full moon in May. This is the Buddhist holiday “Vesak,” or “Wesak,” which is the name of the month in the Indian lunar calendar. The traditional holds that the Buddha’s birth, awakening, and death all happened on the same calendar day.

Lumbini today is a world heritage site. Archeologists discovered it in 1896. As noted in the Introduction there is an Asokan pillar that granted the people of Lumbini a tax exemption and a “reduction in its toll of produce.” There is also an ancient stone tablet that marks the location of the Buddha’s birth.

Figure: Asokan pillar in Lumbini

Figure: Translation of Asokan pillar in Lumbini

Figure: Mayadevi Temple

Figure: Location of the Buddha’s birth

Māyā purportedly gave birth standing up. This may have been the custom of the day, and it still is in some parts of the world. It is also purported that after the delivery, the baby took seven steps, and at each step a lotus flower appeared on the ground. Then, at the seventh stride, he stopped and shouted:

“I am chief of the world,

Eldest am I in the world,

Foremost am I in the world.

This is the last birth.

There is now no more coming to be.”

There are statues in Asia that depict this moment. Usually, the baby is holding up his arm with his index raised.

Figure: “I’m number one.”

Māyā and her companions then traveled back to Kapilavattu. Unfortunately, Māyā was in very poor condition, and she continued to decline. Several days after the Buddha was born, Suddhodana called in a family advisor, Asita, a holy man and advisor who had been with Suddhodana’s father as well. After examining the baby, Asita predicted that the baby would become a Buddha. Asita started crying, knowing that he was too old to live to see this happen. [S Nip 693]

Māyā died seven days after the baby was born. His aunt and now stepmother, Pajāpati, adopted him. Later stories say that Pajāpati gave her newborn daughter to a wet-nurse and cared for the baby Buddha herself. Pajāpati is always portrayed as a kind and altruistic person. She was by all accounts a wonderful, loving mother to all of her children.

The young Siddhartha lived, by the standards of the day, in luxury. The average resident of Kapilavattu lived in a house of clay, or bamboo and reeds. Siddhartha lived in a dwelling that was called a “palace” because it had more than one story. Here is his account of that life:

“Bhikkhus, I was delicately nurtured, most delicately nurtured, extremely delicately nurtured. At my father’s residence lotus ponds were made just for my enjoyment: in one of them blue lotuses bloomed, in another red lotuses, and in a third white lotuses. I used no sandalwood unless it came from Kāsi and my headdress, jacket, lower garment, and upper garment were made of cloth from Kāsi. By day and by night a white canopy was held over me so that cold and heat, dust, grass, and dew would not settle on me. I had three mansions: one for the winter, one for the summer, and one for the rainy season. I spent the four months of the rains in the rainy-season mansion, being entertained by musicians, none of whom were male, and I did not leave the mansion. While in other people’s homes slaves, workers, and servants are given broken rice together with sour gruel for their meals, in my father’s residence they were given choice hill rice, meat, and boiled rice.” - [AN 3.39]

Despite these privileges, there are early indications that Siddhartha could be brooding and unhappy, qualities that must have worried his father:

“Amid such splendor and a delicate life, it occurred to me: ‘An uninstructed worldling, though himself subject to old age, not exempt from old age, feels repelled, humiliated, and disgusted when he sees another who is old, overlooking his own situation. Now I too am subject to old age and am not exempt from old age. Such being the case, if I were to feel repelled, humiliated, and disgusted when seeing another who is old, that would not be proper for me.’ When I reflected thus, my intoxication with youth was completely abandoned.

“[Again, it occurred to me:] ‘An uninstructed worldling, though himself subject to illness, not exempt from illness, feels repelled, humiliated, and disgusted when he sees another who is ill, overlooking his own situation. Now I too am subject to illness and am not exempt from illness. Such being the case, if I were to feel repelled, humiliated, and disgusted when seeing another who is ill, that would not be proper for me.’ When I reflected thus, my intoxication with health was completely abandoned.

“[Again, it occurred to me:] ‘An uninstructed worldling, though himself subject to death, not exempt from death, feels repelled, humiliated, and disgusted when he sees another who has died, overlooking his own situation. Now I too am subject to death and am not exempt from death. Such being the case, if I were to feel repelled, humiliated, and disgusted when seeing another who has died, that would not be proper for me.’ When I reflected thus, my intoxication with life was completely abandoned.” - [AN 3.39]

This problem child had other issues as well. He was not interested in military affairs, which was disturbing for the most prominent child of the rāja:

Another characteristic of Siddhartha appears from the records: his lack of interest in things military. [The son of a rāja is] expected to be keen on riding, chariot driving, archery, fencing, wrestling and handling elephants, and no doubt Siddhartha too must have been instructed on these things. But to the disappointment of the Gotamas he seems to have been only averagely good at such activities.

- [H.W. Schumann, The Historical Buddha]

When Siddhartha was 16 years old he married a young woman named “Yasodharā.” (The name “Yasodharā” is given in later commentaries. In the discourses she is only identified as “Rāhula’s mother.”) She was by all accounts a very beautiful young woman.

This marriage did not happen easily. Yasodharā’s father had misgivings about this “unmilitary, brooding young man,” and put him through a series of tests. Siddhartha used his cleverness to pass them. This also shows that Siddhartha wanted to marry Yasodharā. He certainly could have sabotaged the marriage if he wanted to.

Although this was an arranged marriage, it was apparently a good one. Nonetheless, they did not conceive a child for 13 years. The reasons for this are not clear.

There is very little biographical material about Siddhartha’s life as a young man. However, we can infer certain details from what we know about life in general in India at that time.

As the chief son of a rāja, he would have sat in on meetings of the ruling council of Sakya. He would have taken part in making new laws, initiating public works projects, appointing ministers, and the general governing of the country. The council also doubled as the local court. Justices would first hear a case, and then there was an appeal process. Suddhodana would have been the final step in that process, the Sakyan Supreme Court.

If there was a dispute, they would debate the issue until there was consensus. This was in contrast to the monarchies to the south. Siddhartha would presumably have been by his father’s side as a rāja in training. This training would be of great value when the Buddha later founded the monastic Saṇgha.

We can also infer some of the details of his life from the Indian cities at that time. The palace was at the center of the city, across from the council chambers. Around that area is where the members of the nobility class, the ruling class, lived. Farther out were the workshops of craftspeople. Each guild had its own street. The young Siddhartha clearly spent time observing the people in these shops because he often used crafts in his similes:

“Just as a skilled wood-turner or his apprentice, when making a long turn, discerns, ‘I am making a long turn,’ or when making a short turn discerns, ‘I am making a short turn;’ in the same way the monk, when breathing in long, discerns, ‘I am breathing in long;’ or breathing out long, he discerns, ‘I am breathing out long’ ... He trains himself, ‘I will breathe in calming bodily fabrication.’ He trains himself, ‘I will breathe out calming bodily fabrication.’” - [MN 10.4]

These craftspeople included dyers, ivory carvers, carpenters, weavers, tailors, blacksmiths, elephant handlers (“mahouts”), and so on. There were also many shops run by business people. Later, members of this middle class would be among the Buddha’s most important supporters. This was the first time that a middle class emerged in India, and the life of trade, business, and craftsmanship must have been very exciting for a young man to watch. And from the detail in his discourses about these activities it is clear that he was paying close attention.

Siddhartha also knew something about music. It may have been part of his training as a member of the nobility. He often used music in his similes. The most famous of these is in the discourse “Soṇa.” In this discourse the monk Soṇa is discouraged because he has meditated so diligently without significant results. The Buddha suggests that he might have to relax a little:

“Tell me, Soṇa, in the past, when you lived at home, weren’t you skilled at the lute?”

“Yes, Bhante.”

“What do you think, Soṇa? When its strings were too tight, was your lute well tuned and easy to play?”

“No, Bhante.”

“When its strings were too loose, was your lute well tuned and easy to play?”

“No, Bhante.”

“But, Soṇa, when its strings were neither too tight nor too loose but adjusted to a balanced pitch, was your lute well tuned and easy to play?”

“Yes, Bhante.”

“So too, Soṇa, if energy is aroused too forcefully this leads to restlessness, and if energy is too lax this leads to laziness. Therefore, Soṇa, resolve on a balance of energy, achieve evenness of the spiritual faculties, and take up the object there.” - [AN 6.55]

So by looking at what we know of Indian society of the time, and merging that with his discourses, we get a sense of the young Siddhartha’s life. He had a loving family, with an especially kind mother and a caring father. He grew up in an egalitarian society. He had a beautiful young wife. He lived in a comfortable home surrounded by gardens. He took part in all the important business of his country. This included legal affairs, handling disputes, and initiating civil projects. And he was able to wander around Kapilavattu and see an evolving culture: government, justice, public works, trade, business, and skilled craftspeople.

There was one further attribute in these early Indian cities that is extremely important in the young Siddhartha’s life. Just outside of the cities in India there was always a park. This is where the poorest people would sleep at night. It was also a place where people from the city would picnic on holidays and special occasions. And this was where the wandering spiritual seekers, the samaṇa, lived.

While there is some debate about the role of the brahmin religion in Sakya itself, it seems clear that the young Siddhartha knew the beliefs of brahmin priests along with the many samaṇa schools. And because the samaṇa, no matter what they believed, all lived in the same parks, this gave rise to lively debates, similar to what happened with the philosophers in Greece. These parks also provided the people of the city with an opportunity to hear the debates, and to form their own opinions.

It is a unique development in ancient India that the society supported both the mainstream brahmin religion as well as the samaṇa. The Indians supported the brahmin priests by paying them to perform rituals and ceremonies. They supported the samaṇa by giving alms, by providing parks in which they could sleep, and clothing. The morning alms round was the most visible means of support. After the morning breakfast, the samaṇa entered the city to collect the leftovers. Thus, in early India we see a society that is willing to part with some of its new wealth to support free, religious inquiry. This vibrant culture was the perfect incubator for an aspiring Buddha.

4. Homeleaving

Yasodharā became pregnant when both she and Siddhartha were 29 years old. This must have been a source of great relief to Suddhodana, who was desperate for an heir.

Some have suggested that Siddhartha felt pressured into providing an heir, and that he resisted, and that this is why it took so long for Yasodharā to become pregnant. H.W. Schumann, in his book The Historical Buddha, suggests that Siddhartha made a deal with his parents that if he provided an heir, he would be allowed to leave and become a samaṇa. This would explain, suggests Schumann, why he left immediately after his son Rāhula was born, which is what he did:

…the assumption seems plausible that he had long been urging his parents to agree to this step, and that they had made their consent dependent on the birth of a grandson. This might even explain Siddhartha’s belated fatherhood after 13 years of marriage when both he and [Yasodharā] were 29.

- [H.W. Schumann, The Historical Buddha]

Later commentaries say that the name “Rāhula” means “fetter,” giving even more negative spin to the story. However that rendering of “Rāhula” has been discredited. At least one Pāli scholar I know says that he can find no evidence that this is the meaning of “Rāhula.” It is more likely that they named Rāhula for a lunar eclipse, which is rahu in Hindi, around the time of his birth. In typical Indian fashion there is a mythological aspect to this astronomical phenomenon. “Rahu” is the severed head of an asura, which is an ill-tempered god. This god’s name is “Svarbhānu.” Svarbhānu swallows the sun causing eclipses.

Siddhartha’s leaving home on the day of his son’s birth causes a stir in the West, especially among women. The question is, “Was Siddhartha a bad father?” However, as Ṭhānissaro Bhikkhu points out, throughout history men left home to secure the family’s fortune and future. Merchants would be away for years on trading missions, or serving in military campaigns. When Alexander the Great, who lived not too long after the Buddha, invaded Asia, he and his army were gone for ten years. Even into the 19th century men went off on whaling voyages and were gone for many years.

Siddhartha was trying to secure the family’s future in a much more transcendent way, one that, if successful, would show the way to freedom from suffering for everyone, including his family. Also, this was in India, where even today the extended family raises the children. The Buddha’s family was wealthy and powerful. Yasodharā was not a destitute single mother.

Later stories said that Yasodharā was fiercely loyal to her husband. When she heard that he was doing severe ascetic practices, she started wearing yellow robes and eating only one meal a day. The Buddha’s parents freed her from her marriage vows, but she refused to marry anyone else. This is an important fact. To this day in India there is nothing more important to a woman than her marriage.

The Buddha later described his homeleaving:

“…while still young, a black-haired young man endowed with the blessing of youth, in the prime of life, though my mother and father wished otherwise and wept with tearful faces, I shaved off my hair and beard, put on the yellow robe, and went forth from the home life into homelessness.” - [MN 26.14]

Ordination as a Buddhist monk or nun is still called “homeleaving.” It symbolizes leaving an ordinary life and your biological family to become a renunciate. You leave the treadmill of worldly concerns: earning a living, seeking material gain and sense pleasures. You enter the monastic community, which is your new family. This is what the Buddha did, and this is what people who become renunciates do today.

This is the first chapter in the Buddha’s life. He was grounded in many things that will be important later. He was the son of a rāja. He knew how organizations and governments work. He knew about the system of justice. He knew the community, especially the skilled craftspeople, merchants, and traders.

He also realized that despite his privileged position, he was subject to aging, illness, and death, and that a conventional life would not change that. There is an important term for this in Pāli. It is “saṃvega.” It means the weariness and futility of ordinary life. But as the Buddha would later say, this feeling leads to one of two different reactions. One is frustration, a feeling of futility, even depression. The other is to look for a way out. There is a sense of urgency and higher purpose. And there is faith that there is a way out. This is very important. Faith in Buddhism means something akin to conviction and determination, like a scientist who knows there is a cure for cancer and is determined to find it.

This was the motivation for a renunciate then as now.

In addition to the story of the Buddha’s early life from the Canon, there is also a legendary, later tale about his homeleaving. This comes from the Nidānakathā (Introduction to the Jātakas).

This version of the story begins with the prophecy by Asita, but in this case Asita predicted that the baby Siddhartha would become either a Buddha or a great monarch. In order to make sure that the baby did not take up the spiritual life, Suddhodana sheltered him from the vicissitudes of life. As a result, the legend says, at the age of 29, he was so sheltered that Siddhartha had never seen anyone who was old, sick, or dead.

But as Siddhartha got older, he became increasingly curious about what went on outside of the palace. His father tried to distract him with all sorts of entertainment, but nonetheless one day Siddhartha convinced his charioteer Channa to take him into the city.

On this ride Siddhartha saw the “The Four Heavenly Messengers.” The first messenger was an old man. He asked Channa why the man was so wrinkled and bent. “He is old,” Channa said, “and eventually everyone gets old, unless they die first.”

The second thing Siddhartha saw was a sick person. He asked Channa about this sick person, and Channa told him that anyone can get sick.

The third thing Siddhartha saw was a corpse. Once again he asked Channa about what he was seeing. “Everyone dies,” said Channa.

Finally Siddhartha saw a wandering ascetic, a samaṇa. When Siddhartha asked Channa about the ragged beggar, Channa told him that he was seeking an end to suffering.

Thus, as the story goes, Siddhartha resolved to leave home and become a samaṇa.

It is clear from the Pāli Canon that this story is a later fabrication. We have the Buddha’s own account of his homeleaving. Nonetheless this story is useful as a myth, a metaphor.

In the “Upajjhatthana Sutta: Subjects for Contemplation” [AN 5.57], the first three subjects for contemplation are just these:

(1) “A woman or a man, a householder or one gone forth, should often reflect thus: ‘I am subject to old age; I am not exempt from old age.’

(2) “A woman or a man, a householder or one gone forth, should often reflect thus: ‘I am subject to illness; I am not exempt from illness.’

(3) “A woman or a man, a householder or one gone forth, should often reflect thus: ‘I am subject to death; I am not exempt from death.”

The sutta goes on to say this:

(4) “A woman or a man, a householder or one gone forth, should often reflect thus: ‘I must be parted and separated from everyone and everything dear and agreeable to me.’

(5) “A woman or a man, a householder or one gone forth, should often reflect thus: ‘I am the owner of my kamma, the heir of my kamma; I have kamma as my origin, kamma as my relative, kamma as my resort; I will be the heir of whatever kamma, good or bad, that I do.’”

These are the “Five Subject for Frequent Recollection.” This is one of the most common chants in Theravāda Buddhism. Their purpose is to establish a sense of urgency about developing the path:

“This noble disciple reflects thus: ‘I am not the only one who is subject to old age, not exempt from old age. All beings that come and go, that pass away and undergo rebirth, are subject to old age; none are exempt from old age.’ As he often reflects on this theme, the path is generated. He pursues this path, develops it, and cultivates it. As he does so, the fetters are entirely abandoned and the underlying tendencies are uprooted.” - [AN 5.57]

So while the story is mythical, the message is not.

This legendary story is the one that you are most likely to hear when you go to a meditation retreat. It is not that anyone is lying to you, it is just that the myth makes the point in a more concise way. But both the story from the Canon and the myth make the same case.

We all face a dilemma. Life is inevitably full of stress, ups and downs, and upheavals. If we live long enough, we face our failing bodies. And we all face our own mortality.

The Buddha did not force us to face these ultimate questions. In fact, one way to undertake Buddhist practice is as a method of being more useful and being happier people. In the Buddha’s system of teaching, these two things are inextricably bound. And for people whose goal is a happier, more useful life, he gives a great deal of advice. He has advice for husbands, wives, children, parents, kings, merchants, and anyone else who asked for his help. His path is not limited to monks and nuns.

But for those who want to take on the ultimate questions of life, he also has a path. It is a transcendent path, with the goal of ending stress and suffering completely. When he left home, he did not know if this was possible, but he took a tremendous leap of faith and set out to find it.

5. The Noble Quest

In the first part of the Buddha’s life, he examined his life of wealth, luxury and power, and ultimately considered it futile. No matter what his status, he was subject to old age, sickness, and death. He wanted to see if there was something better, a greater aspiration.

He traveled down the Ganges River Valley to Rājagaha (“rāja” means “king,” “gaha” means “home of”), the center of the Magadha Empire. Here he met King Bimbisāra, the King of Magadha. King Bimbisāra was so struck by the young monk’s appearance that he offered Siddhartha the opportunity to lead his army:

“You are young, youthful,

in the first stage of youth,

endowed with the stature and coloring

of a noble-warrior.

You would look glorious

in the vanguard of an army,

arrayed with an elephant squadron.

I offer you wealth: enjoy it.

I ask your birth: inform me.”

But Siddhartha refused his offer:

“Straight ahead, your majesty,

by the foothills of the Himalayas,

is a country consummate

in energy & wealth,

inhabited by Kosalans:

Solar by clan,

Sakyans by birth.

From that lineage I have gone forth,

but not in search of sensual pleasures.

Seeing the danger in sensual pleasures

— and renunciation as rest —

I go to strive.

That’s where my heart delights.” - [S Nip 3.1]

Siddhartha journeyed on and found his first teacher, Āḷāra Kālāma. He learned Āḷāra Kālāma’s teachings, and he was also able to “realize them through direct knowledge.” What Āḷāra Kālāma taught him was how to enter the “base of nothingness,” which is the “third immaterial attainment of meditative absorption.”

This is what that means in the Buddha’s system of meditation. There are eight states of meditative absorption, or “jhāna.” The first four are the “material states,” and the last four are the “immaterial states.” Each material state has a set of attributes called “jhāna factors”:

1. First jhāna: applied thought, evaluation, rapture and pleasure

2. Second jhāna: self-confidence, singleness of mind, rapture and pleasure

3. Third jhāna: equanimity and pleasure

4. Fourth jhāna: equanimity

The four immaterial states are:

1. The infinity of space

2. The infinity of consciousness

3. The base of nothingness

4. The base of neither perception-nor-non-perception

Each state requires a higher degree of concentration. Note that these states are not unique to Buddhism. Variations of the jhānas show up in many religions such as Judaism, Sufism, Hinduism, Christianity (particularly Gnostic Christianity), Sikhism, and Jainism.

The Buddha realized, however, that what he learned from Āḷāra Kālāma was not the end of the path:

“Thus Āḷāra Kālāma, my teacher, placed me, his pupil, on an equal footing with himself and awarded me the highest honor. But it occurred to me: ‘This Dhamma does not lead to disenchantment, to dispassion, to cessation, to peace, to direct knowledge, to enlightenment, to nibbāna, but only to reappearance in the base of nothingness.’ Not being satisfied with that Dhamma, disappointed with it, I left.” - [MN 26.15]

The terseness of that last sentence is dramatic. Attaining the “base of nothingness” is a considerable meditative achievement. Even many highly accomplished meditators cannot attain it. And Āḷāra Kālāma, as evidenced by his offer to co-teach his Dharma with the Buddha, was aware that he had a star pupil on his hands. Nonetheless the Bodhisatta decided that this was not what he was looking for, and he moved on.

His next teacher was Uddaka Rāmaputta. The process was similar. Uddaka Rāmaputta was able to teach him the next immaterial attainment, the “base of neither-perception-nor-non-perception”:

“Thus Uddaka Rāmaputta, my companion in the holy life, placed me in the position of a teacher and accorded me the highest honor. But it occurred to me: ‘This Dhamma does not lead to disenchantment, to dispassion, to cessation, to peace, to direct knowledge, to enlightenment, to nibbāna, but only to reappearance in the base of neither-perception-nor-non-perception.’ Not being satisfied with that Dhamma, disappointed with it, I left.” - [MN 26.16]

So the story repeated. The Bodhisatta mastered the next highest attainment and in so doing earned the respect of his teacher. Still, he was not satisfied.

The states of jhāna, as well as the immaterial states, are difficult to master. But while they are deeply serene and can lead to wisdom and insights, they are still conditioned states. They do have a profound effect on the mind. They lead to greater mindfulness, greater skill, greater virtue, and greater happiness. But ultimately they are still conditioned. The Buddha was looking for something unconditioned. One of the synonyms for “nirvāṇa” is “the unconditioned.”

Next the Buddha took up ascetic practices, finding five companions with whom to do so. Ascetic practices are supposed to “burn off bad karma” by torturing the body, thus freeing you from the rounds of rebirth. Being who he was, the Buddha undertook them with uncommon diligence. He described them in agonizing detail:

“I thought: ‘Suppose I take very little food, a handful each time, whether of bean soup or lentil soup or vetch soup or pea soup.’ So I took very little food, a handful each time, whether of bean soup or lentil soup or vetch soup or pea soup. While I did so, my body reached a state of extreme emaciation. Because of eating so little my limbs became like the jointed segments of vine stems or bamboo stems. Because of eating so little my backside became like a camel’s hoof. Because of eating so little the projections on my spine stood forth like corded beads. Because of eating so little my ribs jutted out as gaunt as the crazy rafters of an old roofless barn. Because of eating so little the gleam of my eyes sank far down in their sockets, looking like the gleam of water that has sunk far down in a deep well. Because of eating so little my scalp shriveled and withered as a green bitter gourd shrivels and withers in the wind and sun. Because of eating so little my belly skin adhered to my backbone; thus if I touched my belly skin I encountered my backbone and if I touched my backbone I encountered my belly skin. Because of eating so little, if I defecated or urinated, I fell over on my face there. Because of eating so little, if I tried to ease my body by rubbing my limbs with my hands, the hair, rotted at its roots, fell from my body as I rubbed.” - [MN 36.28]

Figure: The ascetic Gotama

He did these practices for many years, with increasing levels of austerity. He finally got to a point where he was almost dead. And while the Buddha was diligent to a fault, he was not stupid. He knew that he had gone as far as it was humanly possible to go with these practices, and they had not led to final liberation:

“I thought: ‘Whatever recluses or brahmins in the past have experienced painful, racking, piercing feelings due to exertion, this is the utmost, there is none beyond this. And whatever recluses and brahmins in the future will experience painful, racking, piercing feelings due to exertion, this is the utmost, there is none beyond this. And whatever recluses and brahmins at present experience painful, racking, piercing feelings due to exertion, this is the utmost, there is none beyond this. But by this racking practice of austerities I have not attained any superhuman states, any distinction in knowledge and vision worthy of the noble ones. Could there be another path to enlightenment?” - [MN 36.30]

Figure: Entrance to the cave at Pragbodi (“Prior to Enlightenment”) Mountain where the Bodhisatta did ascetic practices

At this point, he remembered a time of great peace and serenity from his childhood, and he reflected on it:

“I considered: ‘I recall that when my father the Sakyan was occupied, while I was sitting in the cool shade of a rose-apple tree, quite secluded from sensual pleasures, secluded from unwholesome states, I entered upon and abided in the first jhāna, which is accompanied by applied and sustained thought, with rapture and pleasure born of seclusion. Could that be the path to enlightenment?’ Then, following on that memory, came the realization: ‘That is indeed the path to enlightenment.’” - [MN 36.31]

Buddhism is called “The Middle Way.” What this means is seen here. The Buddha started life rich, famous, and powerful. He had everything that a worldly life had to offer, and he rejected that as being ultimately unsatisfying.

Next he went to the other extreme. He almost killed himself:

“Now when people saw me, some said: ‘The recluse Gotama is black.’ Other people said: ‘The recluse Gotama is not black, he is brown.’ Other people said: ‘The recluse Gotama is neither black nor brown, he is golden-skinned.’ So much had the clear, bright color of my skin deteriorated through eating so little.” - [MN 36.29]

But now he rejected both paths as being unsatisfactory. And the “Middle Way” was born, the path that lies between self-indulgence and self-abuse. He would later say:

“Bhikkhus, these two extremes should not be followed by one who has gone forth into homelessness. What two? The pursuit of sensual happiness in sensual pleasures, which is low, vulgar, the way of worldlings, ignoble, unbeneficial; and the pursuit of self-mortification, which is painful, ignoble, unbeneficial. Without veering towards either of these extremes, the Tathāgata has awakened to the middle way, which gives rise to vision, which gives rise to knowledge, which leads to peace, to direct knowledge, to enlightenment, to nibbāna.” - [SN 56.11]

The key phrase in his analysis is “pleasure born of seclusion.” The Buddha would eventually teach about the dangers of sense pleasures. Sense pleasure is what makes us fat, it is why women are abused, and why people drink too much. It leads to wars.

But here the Buddha distinguished between sense pleasures and the pleasures that come from meditation, from tranquility and serenity:

“I thought: ‘Why am I afraid of that pleasure that has nothing to do with sensual pleasures and unwholesome states?’ I thought: ‘I am not afraid of that pleasure since it has nothing to do with sensual pleasures and unwholesome states.’” - [MN 36.31]

There is a particularly charming part of the story here. It concerns a young woman named “Sujata.” Sujata was the daughter of the mayor of Uruvelā:

Sujata was the beautiful daughter of a landowner, and she prayed to the spirit of a banyan tree for a good husband and son. Her wish was granted, and every year in gratitude she made an offering of sweet, thick milk-rice at the foot of the tree.

Meanwhile, after six years of austerities, Siddhartha was close to death from starvation. One day he sat down in meditation beneath Sujata’s banyan tree. That same day Sujata dreamed that she should make her annual offering. She sent her servant to prepare the place for the offering, and the servant ran back, crying, “A god is sitting under the tree!”

So Sujata made up the milk-rice in a golden bowl and carried it to the tree with her own hands. She offered it to Siddhartha, saying, “Just as my wish has been fulfilled, so may yours be granted.”

He ate the rice-milk with gratitude, and it was the finest food he had eaten in many months. Then he cast the golden bowl into the river, saying, “If I am to fully awaken, may this bowl float upstream.” The bowl floated upstream.

- [Susan Moon, The Hidden Lamp: Stories from Twenty-Five Centuries of Awakened Women]

Figure: Statue at a temple in India showing Sujata offering rice-milk to the Bodhisatta

(This story is originally told in “Jātaka 88: Sujata.” Sujata became a nun and attained awakening. Her stupa is in the village of Uruvelā.)

Figure: Sujata’s stupa

Thus, the Buddha nursed himself back to health, because, as he said, “It is not easy to attain that pleasure with a body so excessively emaciated” [MN 36.33].

Finally he was healthy enough to continue his diligent practice. The Buddha’s description of the night of his awakening is so poetic, that I will let him speak for himself:

“Now when I had eaten solid food and regained my strength, then quite secluded from sensual pleasures, secluded from unwholesome states, I entered upon and abided in the first jhāna, which is accompanied by applied and sustained thought, with rapture and pleasure born of seclusion. But such pleasant feeling that arose in me did not invade my mind and remain.

“With the stilling of applied and sustained thought, I entered upon and abided in the second jhāna… With the fading away as well of rapture… I entered upon and abided in the third jhāna… With the abandoning of pleasure and pain… I entered upon and abided in the fourth jhāna… But such pleasant feeling that arose in me did not invade my mind and remain.

“When my concentrated mind was thus purified, bright, unblemished, rid of imperfection, malleable, wieldy, steady, and attained to imperturbability, I directed it to knowledge of the recollection of past lives. I recollected my manifold past lives, that is, one birth, two births… Thus with their aspects and particulars I recollected my manifold past lives.

“This was the first true knowledge attained by me in the first watch of the night. Ignorance was banished and true knowledge arose, darkness was banished and light arose, as happens in one who abides diligent, ardent, and resolute. But such pleasant feeling that arose in me did not invade my mind and remain.

“When my concentrated mind was thus purified, bright, unblemished, rid of imperfection, malleable, wieldy, steady, and attained to imperturbability, I directed it to knowledge of the passing away and reappearance of beings… Thus with the divine eye, which is purified and surpasses the human, I saw beings passing away and reappearing, inferior and superior, fair and ugly, fortunate and unfortunate, and I understood how beings pass on according to their actions.

“This was the second true knowledge attained by me in the middle watch of the night. Ignorance was banished and true knowledge arose, darkness was banished and light arose happens in one who abides diligent, ardent, and resolute. But such pleasant feeling that arose in me did not invade my mind and remain.

“When my concentrated mind was thus purified, bright, unblemished, rid of imperfection, malleable, wieldy, steady, and attained to imperturbability, I directed it to knowledge of the destruction of the taints. I directly knew as it actually is: ‘This is suffering’;… ‘This is the origin of suffering’;… ‘This is the cessation of suffering’;… ‘This is the way leading to the cessation of suffering’;… ‘These are the taints’;… ‘This is the origin of the taints’;… ‘This is the cessation of the taints’;… ‘This is the way leading to the cessation of the taints.’

“When I knew and saw thus, my mind was liberated from the taint of sensual desire, from the taint of being, and from the taint of ignorance. When it was liberated there came the knowledge: ‘It is liberated.’ I directly knew: ‘Birth is destroyed, the holy life has been lived, what had to be done has been done, there is no more coming to any state of being.’

“This was the third true knowledge attained by me in the last watch of the night. Ignorance was banished and true knowledge arose, darkness was banished and light arose, as happens in one who abides diligent, ardent, and resolute. But such pleasant feeling that arose in me did not invade my mind and remain.” - [MN 36.34-44]

(The “taints” [Pāli: Āsavas, Sanskrit: Āśrava] are (1) sense desire, (2) craving for existence, and (3) ignorance.)

Thus, the Buddha started the night by attaining, in turn, the first, second, third, and fourth jhānas. In the fourth jhāna his “concentrated mind was thus purified, bright, unblemished, rid of imperfection, malleable, wieldy, steady, and attained to imperturbability.” He had a sharp instrument with which to gain insight.

The Buddha examined his previous lives using this “mind thus purified.” This happened in the “first watch of the night.” (In India they divided the night into three “watches,” and each watch was four hours long.)

On the second watch of the night the Buddha turned his attention to how beings are born and reborn “according to their actions.” This last phrase is the key. How we behave determines our future.

In the last watch of the night, the Buddha discovered the Four Noble Truths:

1. The Noble Truth of suffering

2. The Noble Truth of the cause of suffering

3. The Noble Truth of the cessation of suffering

4. The Noble Truth of the path that leads to the end of suffering

This, then, is the Buddha’s description of the night of his awakening.

Not surprisingly, there is a more mythologized account of that night. It involves Māra, the tempter, the god of death.

One of the most iconic images in Buddhism comes from this story. And although the story comes from the Mahāyāna tradition, you will find it in all the Buddhist schools.

(Modern Buddhism is divided into three major divisions: 1) Theravāda Buddhism, the “way of the elders,” is in southern Asia, 2) Mahāyāna Buddhism is in China and east and includes Zen, and 3) Vajrayāna Buddhism, which is mainly in Tibet and Mongolia.)

The story appears in several different sources, including Buddhaghosa’s fifth century CE Jātaka commentary, and Aśvaghoṣa’s epic Sanskrit poem Buddhacarita (Acts of the Buddha). But the most iconic moment in the story occurs only in the Lalitavistara (The Play in Full), of the Sarvāstivāda school of Buddhism.

In the Lalitavistara account, on the night of the Buddha’s enlightenment, Māra tried to prevent the Bodhisatta from awakening. In his first attempt, he assembled a terrible army to conjure up fear in the Bodhisatta:

Māra gathered all four divisions of his great and powerful army. It was a terrifying army, so brave in battle that it would make anyone’s hair stand on end. Such an army had never been seen before, or even heard of, in the realms of gods and humans
…
Some had their heads, hands, or feet turned backward, or their eyes facing backward. Their heads, eyes, and faces were ablaze. Their bellies, hands, and feet were deformed, and their faces brimmed with vehement ardor. Their mouths, with protruding ugly fangs, appeared contorted in the extreme, and their thick and broad tongues, rough like a turtle’s neck or a straw mat, dangled from their mouths.
...
Some had ugly hollow eyes, like wells. Others had eyes that were gouged out, eyes that were ablaze, or disfigured eye sockets. Some had ugly eyes, rolling and blazing. Some carried flaming mountains in their hands while playfully riding on other mountains as their mount. Others ran toward the Bodhisattva, carrying trees that had been uprooted.
…
Some were so thirsty for blood that they would cut each other’s heads off. They would make snappy, ugly, terrifying, and rough sounds of “Phut phut, picut, phulu phulu!” Others would call, “Let’s get rid of him! Grab that mendicant Gautama along with his tree! Let’s make sure that he is caught, cut, slashed, tied, held, harassed, cut in pieces, gotten rid of, and destroyed!”
…
Their faces were yellow, their bodies blue, their heads flaming with the hair streaming upward. Running around impetuously, darting here and there with eyes like a fox, they tried to frighten the Bodhisattva.

Not surprisingly, the Buddha was unperturbed. After a prolonged battle, one in which even Māra fled at one point, the Bodhisatta ended the encounter:

… demons began to hurl all sorts of terrifying weapons at the Bodhisattva. They threw swords, arrows, darts, lances, axes, clubs, javelins, bludgeons, discuses, vajras, hammers, uprooted trees, rocks, lassos, and iron balls. However, as soon as the demons released the weapons, the weapons turned into garlands and canopies of flowers, and a cooling rain of flower petals fell on the ground. The flower garlands hung as adornments on the Bodhi tree.

Next Māra attacked the Bodhisatta with doubt. Doubt is one of the Five Hindrances (craving, aversion, restlessness, sloth, and doubt) of meditation. And in this account, Māra hurled doubt at the Buddha:

When Māra, the evil one, witnessed the Bodhisattva’s power and the displays that he performed, his mind was disturbed with jealousy and avarice. He called out to the Bodhisattva: “Listen, young Prince, get up! Get up and relish your kingship — your virtue lies precisely in doing that! On what grounds could you ever attain liberation?”

“You, evil one! Through just a single unstinting act of giving, you have become lord of the desire realm. I, on the other hand, have performed measureless, unstinting acts of giving. I have cut off my hands, legs, eyes, and my head, and given them to beggars. With the intention to liberate sentient beings, I have often given beggars my house, wealth, grains, beds, clothes, and parks.”

Māra, the evil one, replied with this verse:

“Previously I made a wholesome act of giving;

It was an unstinting act, and you are my witness.

But you have no witness to your acts,

So there is no point in speaking of them, and instead you will be conquered.”

The Bodhisattva replied: “Evil one, the earth here is my witness.”

It was at this point that the Bodhisatta touched the earth.

Surprisingly, Māra was not done. He was nothing if not relentless. He tried one more thing. He sent his three daughters to try to seduce the Bodhisatta. Not unexpectedly this failed as well, and the Bodhisatta became the Buddha. Māra was defeated.

While this is the mythological account, anyone who has done long periods of sitting meditation will recognize Māra’s armies.

Figure: The earth witness, touching the earth

6. Seven Weeks from May

It is worth saying something about what it means to awaken.

The first Noble Truth describes our fundamental condition. We live in a way that is always accompanied by some level of stress. Whatever you are doing now, stop for a moment. Feel your body. What is going on in your mind? Are you in a state of complete relaxation, tranquility, and serenity? Probably not.

Even in the extremely serene states of jhāna, there is still stress. It is extremely subtle, but it is there. One way to think about meditation is that it is cycles of concentration followed by examining the state of concentration to see where there is still stress. Seeing the stress leads to letting go of it, and then the pattern repeats. As you let go of the stress you enter a deeper level of concentration. To be sure, none of this is trivial. Each cycle may take months or years to master.

This is not to say that there are not moments of happiness in our normal, conditioned existence. Of course, there are. But hovering around us all the time is some level of stress. Sometimes this stress is dramatic, even traumatic. At other times, it is quite subtle. But it is always there.

Imagine now that you can live in a way that is completely free from stress. Your mind is always clear, sharp, and alert. You are at ease. And when you face a difficult situation, your attention is unwavering. You make good, intelligent decisions.

That is the awakened mind. It is free from greed, hatred, and delusion. It is bright and alert. It is kind, compassionate, loving, and equanimous. It is skillful. It is altruistic. It is virtuous. The awakened mind is incapable of committing an act of ethical or moral indiscretion. The awakened mind is always at peace and in harmony.

One of the compelling images of Buddhism is the Buddha’s smile. In the centuries that followed the Buddha’s life, artists tried to capture this smile as a physical manifestation of the awakened mind.

Figure: The Buddha’s Smile, sculpture at the Archeological Museum, Sarnath, India

(According to the Buddhist tradition, the Buddha discouraged people from making images of him. In early Buddhism the Buddha was represented iconically as footprints, the Bodhi tree, a throne, and a stupa. You will also see an umbrella, which is the Indian symbol for law and justice. However, when Alexander the Great conquered northern India in 326 BCE, the Greek sculptors were surprised that the Indians did not make images of their “god.” Thus, it was the Greeks who first made images of the Buddha. This leads to the curious phenomenon of the earliest images of the Buddha having Greek features.)

In the Buddhist cosmology, upon awakening the Buddha also became free from the rounds of rebirth. One of the symbolic references in the story of the Buddha and Māra is that the Buddha “defeated death,” Māra being the god of death. Upon his awakening, the Buddha said these words:

“Thro’ many a birth in existence wandered I,

Seeking, but not finding, the builder of this house.

Sorrowful is repeated birth.

O housebuilder, thou art seen. Thou shalt build no house again.

All thy rafters are broken. Thy ridgepole is shattered.

Mind attains the Unconditioned.

Achieved is the End of Craving.”

- [Dhp 153-154]

In terms of the Four Noble Truths, the Buddha had 1) understood the cause of stress and suffering, 2) abandoned craving, 3) realized the cessation of the causes of stress and suffering, and 4) fulfilled the Noble Eightfold Path. He perfected the “Ten Perfections” (generosity, morality, renunciation, wisdom, energy, patience, truthfulness, resolve, and loving-kindness), and he saw into the truth of causality, or “dependent co-arising,” and the way in which we construct and fabricate our moment-to-moment existence out of ignorance.

Ignorance, then, is the final, most subtle form of stress. As long as there is ignorance, there is “karmic momentum.” This causes us to continue to create new karma and thus continue the rounds of existence. When we see this process, we replace ignorance with wisdom, with clear seeing, and with knowing.

According to the Buddhist tradition, after his awakening, the Buddha spent the next seven weeks contemplating his accomplishment. This is the most common formula. However, if you read the account from the Vinaya (the monastic code), there are only five weeks that the Buddha spent contemplating his awakening. I will list all seven in the traditional order, but I think it is clear what are later additions, or modified and lost in the Vinaya.

Week 1: Under the Bodhi Tree

The Buddha spent the first seven days after his awakening blissed out:

At that time the blessed Buddha dwelt at Uruvelā, on the bank of the river [Niranjana] at the foot of the Bodhi tree (tree of wisdom), just after he had become Sambuddha. And the blessed Buddha sat cross-legged at the foot of the Bodhi tree uninterruptedly during seven days, enjoying the bliss of emancipation. - [Mv I.1.1]

During this next week he contemplated the causal nature of our experience.

This is the deepest and most profound discovery of the Buddha’s. To all appearances we live in a world of things. These things appear solid. But underneath it all is magic, a man behind the curtain, that shows us that we live in an ever-changing ocean of experience. Your mind is not the same way it was even five seconds ago. And one reason that we suffer is because we hold onto these transient phenomena as if they are permanent:

We live in illusion and the appearance of things. There is a reality. We are that reality. When you understand this, you see that you are nothing, and being nothing, you are everything. That is all.

- [Kalu Rinpoche]

We live in a world that looks solid like a rock. But we are really living in a world that is constantly moving like the ocean. We suffer in part because we are standing in the ocean fighting the waves, and we get battered. The Buddha suggests that we might find a better strategy, like body surfing.

Then the Blessed One (at the end of these seven days) during the first watch of the night fixed his mind upon the Chain of Causation, in direct and in reverse order: “From Ignorance spring the saṇkhāras [mental fabrications], from the saṇkhāras springs Consciousness, from Consciousness spring Name-and-Form, from Name-and-Form spring the six Provinces (of the six senses), from the six Provinces springs Contact, from Contact springs Sensation, from Sensation springs Thirst (or Desire), from Thirst springs Attachment, from Attachment springs Existence, from Existence springs Birth, from Birth spring Old Age and Death, grief, lamentation, suffering, dejection, and despair. Such is the origination of this whole mass of suffering. Again, by the destruction of Ignorance, which consists in the complete absence of lust, the saṇkhāras are destroyed, by the destruction of the saṇkhāras Consciousness is destroyed, by the destruction of Consciousness Name-and-Form are destroyed, by the destruction of Name-and-Form the six Provinces are destroyed, by the destruction of the six Provinces Contact is destroyed, by the destruction of Contact Sensation is destroyed, by the destruction of Sensation Thirst is destroyed, by the destruction of Thirst Attachment is destroyed, by the destruction of Attachment Existence is destroyed, by the destruction of Existence Birth is destroyed, by the destruction of Birth Old Age and Death, grief, lamentation, suffering, dejection, and despair destroyed. Such is the cessation of this whole mass of suffering.” - [Mv I.1.2]

“Saṇkhāra” (Pāli, Sanskrit: saṃskāra) literally means “that which is constructed.” According to this teaching, we fabricate our experience out of ignorance. Once we are able to penetrate how we do this, we can break the bonds of suffering. One purpose of meditation is to know this process.

The Vinaya text continues:

Knowing this the Blessed One then on that occasion pronounced this solemn utterance: “When the real nature of things becomes clear to the ardent, meditating seeker, then all his doubts fade away, since he realizes what is that nature and what its cause.”

Then the Blessed One during the middle watch of the night fixed his mind upon the Chain of Causation, in direct and reverse order: “From Ignorance spring the saṇkhāras... Such is the origination of this whole mass of suffering... Such is the cessation of this whole mass of suffering.”

Knowing this the Blessed One then on that occasion pronounced this solemn utterance: “When the real nature of things becomes clear to the ardent, meditating seeker, then all his doubts fade away, since he has understood the cessation of causation.”

Then the Blessed One during the third watch of the night fixed his mind...

Knowing this the Blessed One then on that occasion pronounced this solemn utterance: “When the real nature of things becomes clear to the ardent, meditating seeker, he stands, dispelling the hosts of Māra, like the sun that illuminates the sky.” - [Mv I.1.3-7]

The teaching on causality is the most complicated in Buddhism. This topic is discussed in detail in the book Travel Guide to the Buddha’s Path and in The Little Book of Buddhist Wisdom.

Week 2: Gazing at the Tree

During the second week, in thanks and gratitude to the tree that sheltered him during his struggle for Buddhahood, the Buddha sat without moving his eyes as he meditated on the bodhi tree.

Figure: Where the Buddha “gazed unwinking” at the Bodhi tree

Week 3: The Golden Bridge

This step is missing from the description in the Vinaya. As the story goes, the devas (gods) doubted his attainment to Buddhahood. In order to convince them, he created a golden bridge in the sky (another account says a “jeweled walkway”) using his psychic powers.

Week 4: The Jeweled Chamber

This step is also missing from the description in the Vinaya. The story is that he spent the fourth week in a jeweled chamber contemplating the intricacies of the Abhidhamma (“Higher Teaching”). The story also says that his mind and body were so purified that when he pondered the “Book of Relations” in the Abhidhamma “six colored rays emitted from his body.”

Since the Abhidhamma was not written until after the Buddha’s death, this is unlikely. This passage may have been added to give credence to the Abhidhamma, which is a text found only in the Theravāda tradition. It is one of the texts that created a divide between the Theravāda and Mahāyāna traditions.

Week 5: The True Brahmin

During this week the Buddha encountered a “haughty brahmin.” Brahmins attained their status by birth and their corresponding membership in the brahmin varṇa. The brahmin asked the Buddha a question, which he probably thinks is rhetorical. The Buddha gave him a surprising answer:

Now a certain brahmin, who was of a haughty disposition, went to the place where the Blessed One was. Having approached him, he exchanged greeting with the Blessed One. Having exchanged with him greeting and complaisant words, he stationed himself near him. Then standing near him that brahmin spoke to the Blessed One: “By what, Gotama; does one become a brahmin, and what are the characteristics that make a man a brahmin?”

And the Blessed One, having heard that, on this occasion pronounced this solemn utterance: “That brahmin who has removed (from himself) all sinfulness, who is free from haughtiness, free from impurity, self-restrained, who is an accomplished master of knowledge, who has fulfilled the duties of holiness, such a brahmin may justly call himself a brahmin, whose behavior is uneven to nothing in the world.” - [Mv I.2.2-3]

Later in his teaching career the Buddha expanded on this topic in the “Soṇadaṇḍa Sutta: About Soṇadaṇḍa” [DN 4], which is also called “The True Brahmin.” The Buddha taught that the true brahmin is defined by wisdom:

“A disciple goes forth and practices the moralities; he guards the sense doors. That, brahmin, is morality. He attains the four jhānas; he attains various insights, and the cessation of the corruptions. Thus he develops wisdom. That, brahmin, is wisdom.” - [DN 4.23]

He visited this topic again in the “Vāseṭṭha Sutta: To Vāseṭṭha” [MN 98]:

“I call him not a brahmin

Because of his origin and lineage.

If impediments still lurk in him,

He is just one who says ‘Sir.’

Who is unimpeded and clings no more:

He is the one I call a brahmin.”

- [MN 98.27]

The Buddha used language here to his advantage. A brahmin is a member of a particular social class. But the original meaning of the word “brahmin” is “noble.” Thus Vāseṭṭha asked what makes someone a member of the brahmin class, and the Buddha responded by telling him what is noble.

There is also an account that says that during this week “three most charming girls called Taṇhā, Rati, and Rāga came to disturb his meditation.” They danced “in a most seductive and charming manner and did everything to tempt the Buddha to watch their dance.” But I think it is clear that this account is confusing the story of week five with the stories of the night of the Buddha’s awakening in the Lalitavistara Sūtra and the Buddhacarita. Taṇhā, Rati, and Rāga in those accounts are Māra’s daughters. In Pāli taṇhā means “craving,” rati means “attachment,” and rāga means “passion.”

Week 6: The Serpent King

In week six the Buddha meditated under a mucalinda tree. It started to rain heavily and a large king cobra “came out and coiled himself seven times” around the Buddha to keep him warm and dry. After it stopped raining, the cobra turned himself into a young man who paid homage to the Buddha:

Then the Blessed One, at the end of those seven days, arose from that state of meditation, and went from the foot of the Agapāla banyan tree to the Mukalinda tree. And when he had reached it, he sat cross-legged at the foot of the Mukalinda tree uninterruptedly during seven days, enjoying the bliss of emancipation.

At that time a great cloud appeared out of season, rainy weather which lasted seven days, cold weather, storms, and darkness. The serpent king [cobra] came out from his abode, and seven times encircled the body of the Blessed One with his windings, and kept extending his large hood over the Blessed One’s head, thinking to himself: “May no coldness touch the Blessed One! May no heat touch the Blessed One! May no vexation by gadflies and gnats, by storms and sunheat and reptiles touch the Blessed One!”

And at the end of those seven days, when the serpent king saw the open, cloudless sky, he loosened his windings from the body of the Blessed One, made his own appearance disappear, created the appearance of a youth, and stationed himself in front of the Blessed One, raising his clasped hands, and paying reverence to the Blessed One.

And the Blessed One, perceiving that, on this occasion, pronounced this solemn utterance: “Happy is the solitude of him who is full of joy, who has learned the Truth, who sees the Truth. Happy is freedom from malice in this world, self-restraint towards all beings that have life. Happy is freedom from lust in this world, getting beyond all desires; the putting away of that pride which comes from the thought ‘I am!’ This truly is the highest happiness!” - [Mv I.3.1-4]

While this story may stretch credibility, meditators who are quite serene can sit among very dangerous animals, including snakes like cobras. Many monasteries have animals that live there, apparently because the animals know it is a place where they are safe. In some cases animals that are natural enemies live together without problem. There is a monastery in Thailand where there is a box full of poisonous snakes where people meditate. When you become still enough, you are just part of the scenery.

Figure: Statue of Buddha with cobra, Bodh Gaya

Week 7: Tapussa and Bhallika

In week seven, the Buddha gained his first two lay disciples, Tapussa and Bhallika. They were two merchants who saw him meditating. They were quite taken with the Buddha and offered him rice cakes and honey:

At that time Tapussa and Bhallika, two merchants, came travelling on the road from Ukkala (Orissa) to that place. Then a deity who had been (in a former life) a blood-relation of the merchants Tapussa and Bhallika, thus spoke to them: “Here, my noble friends, at the foot of the Rāgāyatana tree, is staying the Blessed One, who has just become Sambuddha. Go and show your reverence to him, the Blessed One, by (offering him) rice-cakes and lumps of honey. Long will this be to you for a good and for a blessing.”

And the merchants Tapussa and Bhallika took rice-cakes and lumps of honey, and went to the place where the Blessed One was. Having approached him and respectfully saluted the Blessed One, they stationed themselves near him. Standing near him, the merchants Tapussa and Bhallika thus addressed the Blessed One: “May, O Lord, the Blessed One accept from us these rice-cakes and lumps of honey, that that may long be to us for a good and for a blessing!” - [Mv I.4.2-3]

Figure: Where Tapussa and Bhallika took refuge, Bodh Gaya

When the Buddha finished eating, they asked to become his disciples:

And Tapussa and Bhallika, the merchants, when they saw that the Blessed One had cleansed his bowl and his hands, bowed down in reverence at the feet of the Blessed One and thus addressed the Blessed One: “We take our refuge, Lord, in the Blessed One and in the Dhamma; may the Blessed One receive us as disciples who, from this day forth while our life lasts, have taken their refuge (in him).” These were the first in the world to become lay-disciples (of the Buddha) by the formula which contained (only) the dyad. - [Mv I.4.5]

The “dyad” here requires some explanation. From the time of the Buddha, when one becomes a follower, you “take refuge.” Now we take refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Saṇgha. Until recently “the Saṇgha” specifically meant either the “monastic Saṇgha,” which is the monks and nuns, or the “noble Saṇgha,” those who have attained at least the first stage of awakening. (In the Buddha’s system of awakening there are four stages: stream-entry, once-returner, non-returner, and arahant.) But when Tapussa and Bhallika took refuge, the Saṇgha did not exist. Thus they took refuge only in the “dyad”: the Buddha and the Dharma.

And that brings us to the end of the time when the Buddha consolidated his accomplishment. He fully understood what had happened. Now he had to decide what to do next.

7. The First Sermon

Thank You, Brahmā Sahampati

A common theme in the Buddhist literature is that Buddhas appear from time to time, but not all of them decide to teach the Dharma. These non-teaching Buddhas are “pacceka Buddhas” (Pāli, Sanskrit: Pratyekabuddha). “Pacceka” literally means “single” or “alone.” It is sometimes rendered as “Silent Buddha.”

The reason that a Buddha might decide not to teach is because he does not think that anyone will understand the Dharma. The Buddha faced this question as well:

I considered: “This Dhamma that I have attained is profound, hard to see and hard to understand, peaceful and sublime, unattainable by mere reasoning, subtle, to be experienced by the wise. But this generation delights in attachment, takes delight in attachment, rejoices in attachment. It is hard for such a generation to see this truth, namely, specific conditionality, dependent origination. And it is hard to see this truth, namely, the stilling of all formations, the relinquishing of all acquisitions, the destruction of craving, dispassion, cessation, nibbāna. If I were to teach the Dhamma, others would not understand me, and that would be wearying and troublesome for me.” - [MN 26.19]

Skepticism in the next generation seems universal. Words to this effect have probably been spoken by every generation since we evolved from monkeys into Homo sapiens. And who knows, maybe even monkey parents speak of their children in this way.

The Buddha went on:

“Enough with teaching the Dhamma

That even I found hard to reach;

For it will never be perceived

By those who live in lust and hate.

Those dyed in lust, wrapped in darkness

Will never discern this abstruse Dhamma

Which goes against the worldly stream,

Subtle, deep, and difficult to see.

“Considering thus, my mind inclined to inaction rather than to teaching the Dhamma.” - [MN 26.19]

At this point the Brahmā Sahampati intervened.

In the Buddhist cosmology, one of the heavenly realms is the brahmā realm (see Appendix C). This is roughly parallel to the Western God. The brahmā gods are very powerful, and Brahmā Sahampati is the most senior of the brahmā gods. In one story he is a non-returner, meaning that he has attained the second-to-last stage of awakening. He will become an arahant (fully awakened) without having any more lives in the human realm.

Brahmā Sahampati saw that the Buddha was not inclined to teach, so he descended from the brahmā realm to convince the Buddha to do so.

(The Buddhist scholar Robert Thurman, in his inimitable way, has a particularly colorful way of telling this story. In his version, Brahmā Sahampati says to the Buddha that being Brahmā is great when things are going well. People like you. They worship you. But as soon as something goes wrong they blame you. So he exhorts the Buddha to tell people “it’s not my fault.”)

Brahmā Sahampati said this to the Buddha:

“Venerable sir, let the Blessed One teach the Dhamma, let the Sublime One teach the Dhamma. There are beings with little dust in their eyes who are wasting through not hearing the Dhamma. There will be those who will understand the Dhamma.” - [MN 26.20]

And just in case the Buddha has any ego left (he doesn’t) Brahmā Sahampati appealed to his vanity:

“Arise, victorious hero, caravan leader,

Debtless one, and wander in the world.

Let the Blessed One teach the Dhamma,

There will be those who will understand.”

- [MN 26.20]

The Buddha looked around, saw that there were people who would understand the Dharma, and finally he agreed to teach:

“Then I listened to the Brahmā’s pleading, and out of compassion for beings I surveyed the world with the eye of a Buddha. Surveying the world with the eye of a Buddha, I saw beings with little dust in their eyes and with much dust in their eyes, with keen faculties and with dull faculties, with good qualities and with bad qualities, easy to teach and hard to teach, and some who dwelt seeing fear and blame in the other world. Just as in a pond of blue or red or white lotuses, some lotuses that are born and grow in the water thrive immersed in the water without rising out of it, and some other lotuses that are born and grow in the water rest on the water’s surface, and some other lotuses that are born and grow in the water rise out of the water and stand clear, unwetted by it; so too, surveying the world with the eye of a Buddha, I saw beings with little dust in their eyes and with much dust in their eyes, with keen faculties and with dull faculties, with good qualities and with bad qualities, easy to teach and hard to teach, and some who dwelt seeing fear and blame in the other world. Then I replied to the Brahmā Sahampati in stanzas:

‘Open for them are the doors to the Deathless,

Let those with ears now show their faith.

Thinking it would be troublesome, O Brahmā,

I did not speak the Dhamma subtle and sublime.’

“Then the Brahmā Sahampati thought: ‘The Blessed One has consented to my request that he teach the Dhamma.’” - [MN 26.21]

There is a poetic beauty to this passage, particularly the Buddha’s simile of people as lotuses in a pond. The Pāli language is an oral language. It has no native alphabet. It developed at a time when everything was memorized. As a result, there were language conventions that made texts easy to compose and easy to remember.

This is called “oral formulaic composition,” and it is not unique to India. In Wales and Ireland shaman poets composed verse in the same way, and their students listened to their compositions and remembered them. In more modern times Alan Ginsberg composed poetry in the same way. He dictated his poems to an audiotape machine.

These language conventions lend themselves well to poetry and poetic phrasing. This is one reason that Pāli does not translate well into English. You lose the sense of rhythm. When you listen to discourses chanted in Pāli, you hear the beauty of the language.

Many people complain that the Buddha’s discourses are repetitive and boring. This is mainly a language problem. In Pāli the discourses are more like music. And when you read the Buddha’s discourses, it is helpful to think of them as music rather than prose.

So, back to our story. Brahmā Sahampati went back to the brahmā realm, the Buddha decided to teach, and for that I, among many, am deeply grateful.

An Encounter With a Skeptic

Having decided to teach, the next question was who to teach?

The Buddha considered his first teacher, Āḷāra Kālāma:

“Āḷāra Kālāma is wise, intelligent, and discerning; he has long had little dust in his eyes. Suppose I taught the Dhamma first to Āḷāra Kālāma. He will understand it quickly.” - [MN 26.22]

Unfortunately Āḷāra Kālāma died just seven days prior. The devas (sort of lower level gods) gave him the bad news:

“Then deities approached me and said: ‘Venerable sir, Āḷāra Kālāma died seven days ago.’ And the knowledge and vision arose in me: ‘Āḷāra Kālāma died seven days ago.’ I thought: ‘Āḷāra Kālāmaʹs loss is a great one. If he had heard this Dhamma, he would have understood it quickly.’” - [MN 26.22]

Next the Buddha considered his second teacher, Uddaka Rāmaputta.

“Uddaka Rāmaputta is wise, intelligent, and discerning; he has long had little dust in his eyes. Suppose I taught the Dhamma first to Uddaka Rāmaputta. He will understand it quickly.” - [MN 26.23]

Unfortunately Uddaka Rāmaputta also died, just the night before. Once again the devas gave him the bad news:

“Then deities approached me and said: ‘Venerable sir, Uddaka Rāmaputta died last night.’ And the knowledge and vision arose in me: ‘Uddaka Rāmaputta died last night.’ I thought: ‘Uddaka Rāmaputta’s loss is a great one. If he had heard this Dhamma, he would have understood it quickly.’” - [MN 26.23]

Next he thought about his five companions, the ones with whom he did the ascetic practices. When the Buddha gave up those practices, those companions thought he had gone soft. They were not very happy with him, and they were pretty clear about how they felt. But the Buddha thought that they would understand his Dharma. And using his Divine Eye, he was able to see where they were:

“The bhikkhus of the group of five who attended upon me while I was engaged in my striving were very helpful. Suppose I taught the Dhamma first to them.’ Then I thought: ‘Where are the bhikkhus of the group of five now living?’ And with the divine eye, which is purified and surpasses the human, I saw that they were living at Benares in the Deer Park at Isipatana.” - [MN 26.24]

And thus, he set off to find them.

On his journey to the Deer Park he came across an Ājīvaka named Upaka. The Ājīvakas were one of the many sects of samaṇas. They did ascetic practices. They believed in predestination and that there is no free will. This put them at odds with the teaching of the Buddha. (The Ājīvakas continued to exist until about the 14th century CE.)

Upaka saw the Buddha walking toward him and noticed how radiant the Buddha looked. He said to the Buddha:

“Friend, your faculties are clear, the color of your skin is pure and bright. Under whom have you gone forth, friend? Who is your teacher? Whose Dhamma do you profess?” - [MN 26.25]

This is like asking Albert Einstein who taught him the theory of relativity. The Buddha responded:

“I am one who has transcended all, a knower of all,

Unsullied among all things, renouncing all,

By craving’s ceasing freed.

Having known this all

For myself, to whom should I point as teacher?

“I have no teacher, and one like me

Exists nowhere in all the world

With all its gods, because I have

No person for my counterpart.

“I am the Accomplished One in the world,

I am the Teacher Supreme.

I alone am a Fully Enlightened

One whose fires are quenched and extinguished.” - [MN 26.25]

In other words, “I’m the man.”

But Upaka thought he had met a crazy person:

When this was said, the Ājīvaka Upaka said: “May it be so, friend.” Shaking his head, he took a bypath and departed. - [MN 26.25]

He “took a bypath” means that he walked as far around the Buddha as he could and got away as fast as he could.

We already saw one example of skepticism in the Buddha’s awakening at Bodh Gaya with the haughty brahmin. One of the humanizing touches we get from the Pāli Canon is how people treated the Buddha. It was not all strawberries and cream. The Canon does not even attempt to hide how many people treated the Buddha rudely and with skepticism.

This is an important point. Throughout history, great people have often been badly treated. Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr. were assassinated. Jesus was nailed to a cross. As we will see, the Buddha had some pretty rough moments as well. This is a life lesson. On those days when you are frustrated because you cannot have a more positive impact, remember that this is the way of the world. This is when you need equanimity.

There is also a lesson here about skepticism. Now, there is healthy skepticism. You want to get your facts straight. This is especially true when it comes to the Dharma. You always want to get it right. That means that you have to probe and question. Questioning is sacred in Buddhism. It is considered bad form to have a Dharma talk with no questions afterwards. Ṭhānissaro Bhikkhu wrote a book called Skill in Questions: How the Buddha Taught about how the Buddha framed and responded to questions. Skillful questioning is at the heart of the learning process.

But there is also unhealthy skepticism, and this is especially prevalent when it comes to the big questions in life. You hear people all the time say “I believe this, and I believe that.” “I believe in God,” “I don’t believe in God,” “I believe in heaven and hell,” “I don’t believe in heaven and hell,” and so on.

But the universe is indifferent to our opinions about it. An opinion is something you have when you don’t know something. There is nothing wrong with that per say. It depends on how tightly you hold it. Is it a working hypothesis, or something you will hold onto, even go to war over, no matter how many facts argue against it? One of the forms of attachment the Buddha teaches is attachment to views, and this attachment can be deadly.

In the cases of the brahmin and the Ājīvaka, they had a priceless opportunity and just walked on by. Sometimes it helps to be skeptical of your skepticism. Where is it getting you? Something is true. One question to ask yourself when you are asking a question is, “Do you really want to know the answer, or are you just trying to poke holes in what someone else is saying?” (There is a unique term for this in Buddhism. It is called “eel-wriggling.”)

You can experience the truth of the Dharma yourself. That is the whole point to the Buddha’s teachings. You don’t have to take his word for it. Admittedly, the instruction manual is pretty long, and it takes a considerable effort to understand it. The practice can be very challenging. But in this path, no one should ever tell you to have unquestioning faith, especially if that person is someone who behaves in morally dubious ways.

The Deer Park

The Buddha eventually got to the Deer Park at Isipatana where a little drama unfolded. His companions didn’t ignore him completely, but they did give him the cold shoulder. This is the Buddha’s account of what happened:

“I eventually came to Benares, to the Deer Park at Isipatana, and I approached the bhikkhus of the group of five. The bhikkhus saw me coming in the distance, and they agreed among themselves thus: ‘Friends, here comes the recluse Gotama who lives luxuriously, who gave up his striving, and reverted to luxury. We should not pay homage to him or rise up for him or receive his bowl and outer robe. But a seat may be prepared for him. If he likes, he may sit down.’” - [MN 26.26]

But the Buddha’s radiance was so overwhelming that they were unable to go through with their slight:

“However, as I approached, those bhikkhus found themselves unable to keep their pact. One came to meet me and took my bowl and outer robe, another prepared a seat, and another set out water for my feet; however, they addressed me by name and as ‘friend.’” - [MN 26.26]

So the shunning didn’t last very long. The Buddha then made what must have sounded like an astonishing pronouncement:

“Bhikkhus, do not address the Tathāgata by name and as ‘friend.’ The Tathāgata is an Accomplished One, a Fully Enlightened One. Listen, bhikkhus, the Deathless has been attained. I shall instruct you, I shall teach you the Dhamma. Practicing as you are instructed, by realizing for yourselves here and now through direct knowledge you will soon enter upon and abide in that supreme goal of the holy life for the sake of which clansmen rightly go forth from the home life into homelessness.” - [MN 26.27]

Something that is worth repeating here is that the Buddha was a master wordsmith. A simple example is the story where he recasted the word “brahmin.” Here he used a unique word, “Tathāgata.”

Over the centuries there has been a lot of debate about what the word “Tathāgata” means. It can mean “thus come,” as in “tatha gatha,” or “thus gone,” as in “tath agatha.” The word “gatha” means “come.” Prepending an “a” to a word in Pāli makes it the opposite, so “come” becomes “gone.” So depending on how you render the word, it either means “thus come” or “thus gone.”

Personally, I think he was having a little fun with us. I think what he meant is that a Buddha is beyond all coming and going, and this is his playful way of messing with us, just a little.

As for the party of five, they are… skeptical:

“…the bhikkhus of the group of five answered me thus: ‘Friend Gotama, by the conduct, the practice, and the performance of austerities that you undertook, you did not achieve any superhuman states, any distinction in knowledge and vision worthy of the noble ones. Since you now live luxuriously, having given up your striving and reverted to luxury, how will you have achieved any superhuman states, any distinction in knowledge and vision worthy of the noble ones?’” - [MN 26.27]

You can see that his former companions thought he had gone soft, that he had given up striving for awakening. But the Buddha responded:

“The Tathāgata does not live luxuriously, nor has he given up his striving and reverted to luxury. The Tathāgata is an Accomplished One, a Fully Enlightened One. Listen, bhikkhus, the Deathless has been attained…from the home life into homelessness.” - [MN 26.27]

They repeated this dialog a second time. But then the Buddha changed tactics. They did practice together for a long time, and the five ascetics knew the Buddha’s character:

“When this was said I asked them: ‘Bhikkhus, have you ever known me to speak like this before?’”

“No, venerable sir.”

“Bhikkhus, the Tathāgata is an Accomplished One, a Fully Enlightened One. Listen, bhikkhus, the Deathless has been attained. I shall instruct you, I shall teach you the Dhamma. Practicing as you are instructed, by realizing for yourselves here and now through direct knowledge you will soon enter upon and abide in that supreme goal of the holy life for the sake of which clansmen rightly go forth from the home life into homelessness.” - [MN 26.28]

He finished by saying rather dryly:

“I was able to convince the bhikkhus of the group of five.” - [MN 26.29]

The full text of his first discourse is the “Dhammacakkappavattana Sutta: The Turning of the Wheel of the Dharma” [SN 56.11]. This is one of the most fundamental teachings of Buddhism, the Four Noble Truths.

Figure: Statue of the Buddha’s first discourse, Sarnath, India

At the end of this discourse, the ascetic Koṇḍañña extrapolated the as-yet-untaught Buddhist law of causality from the Four Noble Truths, and he awakened. He said these words:

“Whatever is subject to origination is all subject to cessation.” - [SN 56.11]

Koṇḍañña thus became the first arahant, and was known thereafter as “Añña Koṇḍañña,” which means “Koṇḍañña knows.”

In the days that followed, the ascetics Vappa and Bhadiya also awakened, becoming the second and third monks in the Buddha’s Saṇgha.

In the selfless spirit of that little Saṇgha, Vappa and Bhadiya went on alms rounds to gather food for all of them to give the Buddha more time to work with the last two members of their group, Mahānāma and Assaji. Soon they, too, awakened.

Thus the Dharma was transmitted. The “wheel of the Dharma” was set in motion. The Saṇgha was born, and a new sāsana began.

8. The Early Saṇgha

Yasa

The Buddha and his five bhikkhus were living at the Deer Park at Isipatana. It was about an hour and a half walk into the larger city of Benares (“Varanasi” is the ancient Indian name). To Westerners Benares is one of the most recognizable Indian cities today. It is where Hindus wish to be cremated along the banks of the Ganges River, and it is where Hindu pilgrims go to cleanse in the waters of the Ganges.

Figure: A Hindu priest performing the evening puja along the banks of the Ganges River in Varanasi

In the time of the Buddha, however, Benares was a much more humble place. The famous concrete steps that lead down to the river were not there yet. The city was smaller, and the buildings were more rustic.

Getting to Benares was problematical for a samaṇa because you had to cross the Ganges River to get there. This meant paying for a ferry ride and, of course, the samaṇa had no money.

Figure: The Hindu holy city Benares (Varanasi)

However, there was an even more compelling reason for a samaṇa to avoid Benares, and that is because the city was particularly hostile to them. It may be that because Benares was a city of merchants and commerce they resented giving alms to people who did not work. Benares was also particularly attached to the Vedic religion. During his lifetime, the Buddha avoided going into Benares unless it was under special circumstances, like being invited for a meal.

(Bodh Gaya is about 250 km, or 155 miles, from Sarnath. This is how far the Buddha had to travel to get to the Deer Park. Sarnath is about 13 km, or 8 miles, from Benares.)

Nonetheless, the next initiate was from Benares, and his name was Yasa.

Yasa had a lot in common with the Buddha. He came from a wealthy family. He lived in a large palace. He was married to a beautiful young woman. But as seems to have been common in India at that time, he was listless, and yearned for a holy life. So one morning he snuck out of the city and headed to Isipatana.

Here Yasa found the Buddha. Yasa was in distress. He seems depressed. But the Buddha assured him that here in the Deer Park, there was no distress:

At that time the Blessed One, having arisen in the night, at dawn was walking up and down in the open air. And the Blessed One saw Yasa, the noble youth, coming from afar. And when he saw him, he left the place where he was walking, and sat down on a seat laid out (for him). And Yasa, the noble youth, gave utterance near the Blessed One to that solemn exclamation:

“Alas! What distress; alas! what danger!”

And the Blessed One said to Yasa, the noble youth:

“Here is no distress, Yasa, here is no danger. Come here, Yasa, sit down; I will teach you the Truth (Dhamma).” - [Mv I.7.4]

Figure: Deer at the Deer Park, Sarnath

The Buddha proceeded to teach the “graduated discourse.” It is instructive to see how the Buddha gave this teaching. He started with the merit obtained by giving alms and the importance of morality. He taught Yasa about heaven (perhaps as a way of teaching about the fruits of merit and virtue), the dangers in sense desire, and the blessings of abandoning sense desire:

And Yasa, the noble youth, when he heard that there was no distress, and that there was no danger, became glad and joyful; and he put off his gilt slippers, and went to the place where the Blessed One was; having approached him and having respectfully saluted the Blessed One, he sat down near him. When Yasa, the noble youth, was sitting near him, the Blessed One preached to him in due course: that is to say, he talked about the merits obtained by 1) alms-giving, about the 2) duties of morality, 3) about heaven, 4) about the evils, the vanity, and the danger of desires, and about 5) the blessings of the abandonment of desire. - [Mv I.7.5]

Here the Buddha paused to take stock of this young man. You can imagine that then, as now, the news that there is danger in sense desire, and there are “blessings in the abandonment of desire” would be a tough sell. But the Buddha saw that this young man was not frightened off or angry at the teaching, so he continued:

When the Blessed One saw that the mind of Yasa, the noble youth, was prepared, impressible, free from obstacles (to understanding the Truth), elated, and believing, then he preached what is the principal doctrine of the Buddhas, namely, Suffering, the Cause of suffering, the Cessation of suffering, the Path. Just as a clean cloth free from black specks properly takes the dye, thus Yasa, the noble youth, even while sitting there, obtained the pure and spotless Eye of the Truth (that is, the knowledge): “Whatsoever is subject to the condition of origination is subject also to the condition of cessation.” - [Mv I.7.6]

And just as happened with Koṇḍañña, Yasa extrapolated from the Four Noble Truths the law of causation, and he awakened.

(It is disconcerting to many modern readers the ease with which people awakened during the Buddha’s time. Some of this is easy to understand. Our modern world has developed sense desire and distraction to high art. The media bombards us with messages of desire, anger, fear, and delusion. But in ancient Indian there was also a culture of “religious yearning.” H.W. Schumann notes that Yasa’s story characterizes this yearning “which had seized India… and which drove numberless people to leave their houses and huts to venture on a wandering mendicant life” [H.W. Schumann, The Historical Buddha]. Imagine in our time a powerful politician or movie star giving up everything for the homeless life.)

In the meantime Yasa’s parents were very worried about him, and Yasa’s father, also named “Yasa,” (Yasa Sr.?) set out to find him. Eventually Yasa, Sr. made it to Isipatana, where the Buddha gave him a similar discourse. However, because Yasa, Sr. was not as predisposed to the Dharma, the Buddha did not teach the final step, the Four Noble Truths.

You can see how the Buddha used his wisdom to know his audience. This discourse is an example of how the Buddha held back his higher teachings, especially The Four Noble Truths, from people who were not ready to hear them yet.

Yasa, Sr. invited the Buddha for the daily meal the next morning. In the meantime Yasa, Jr. begged the Buddha to ordain him. The Buddha did so, and Yasa became the sixth member of the Saṇgha.

The next day the newly ordained Yasa went with the Buddha to his parents’ house. There the Buddha gave the full graduated discourse, and Yasa’s former wife and mother both took refuge, becoming the first female adherents to the Buddhadharma.

Four close friends of Yasa - Vimala, Subāhu, Punnagi, and Gavampati - heard about his ordination. Knowing that he was a person of high character, they knew that he would not do something like this unless it was an exceptional situation:

“Surely that cannot be a common doctrine and discipline, that cannot be a common renunciation of the world, if Yasa, the noble youth, has cut off his hair and beard, and has put on yellow robes, and has given up the world, and gone forth into the houseless state.” - [Mv I.9.1]

They went to see Yasa who took them to the Buddha. Here the story repeated itself. The Buddha gave them the graduated discourse, and they asked to ordain. Shortly after that, they, too became arahants:

And the Blessed One administered to these Bhikkhus exhortation and instruction by discourse relating to the Dhamma. While they received exhortation and instruction from the Blessed One by discourse relating to the Dhamma. Their minds became free from attachment to the world, and were released from the Āsavas.

At that time there were eleven arahants in the world. - [Mv I.9.4]

(“Āsava” is another of those famously enigmatic Pāli words. It can mean either “inflow” our “outflow,” and its true meaning is not clear. Here perhaps the simplest translation is “defilements.” As you can see, the original translators of the Vinaya chose to leave it untranslated.)

After these four young men ordained as Buddhist monks, fifty other young men of Benares also ordained and awakened. Thus there were now sixty-one arahants.

At this point in its young life, the Saṇgha was relatively free from rules and ritual. Ordaining as a Buddhist monk consisted simply in taking the Three Refuges: the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Saṇgha. Eventually there would be two types of ordination. The first of these is the “pabbajja” (also “pabbagga” in Pāli, Sanskrit: pravrajya), sometimes called the “novice” or “lower” ordination. “Pabbajja” literally means “going forth.” Later this would be a probationary period.

The higher ordination is called “Upasampadā.” Its literal meaning is “approaching or nearing the ascetic tradition.” Once pabbajja became a probationary period, you had to complete that first before receiving the higher ordination. You also had to be at least twenty years old. But at this point, those distinctions did not apply.

Thus far all of the members of the Saṇgha received both ordinations, and all were arahants. The Buddha had also personally ordained them all.

But now that the Saṇgha was up to sixty-one members, they started bringing in aspiring young men from all over the countryside to be ordained. Having the Buddha ordain everyone was inconvenient for them, and it was beginning to become burdensome for the Buddha. So the Buddha decided to empower his monks to perform the ordination themselves. He prescribed the way in which ordination was to take place. This was by repeating the Three Refuges three times. (Three is a magic number in India. Once something is done or said three times, it takes on greater significance.) And to this day, this is how ordainees, both lay and monastic, take the Three Refuges:

Buddhaṃ saraṇaṃ gacchāmi

(I go for refuge in the Buddha.)

Dhammaṃ saraṇaṃ gacchāmi

(I go for refuge in the Dhamma.)

Saṇghaṃ saraṇaṃ gacchāmi

(I go for refuge in the Saṇgha.)

Dutiyampi Buddhaṃ saraṇaṃ gacchāmi

(For a second time I go for refuge in the Buddha.)

Dutiyampi Dhammaṃ saraṇaṃ gacchāmi

(For a second time I go for refuge in the Dhamma.)

Dutiyampi Saṇghaṃ saraṇaṃ gacchāmi

(For a second time I go for refuge in the Saṇgha.)

Tatiyampi Buddhaṃ saraṇaṃ gacchāmi

(For the third time I go for refuge in the Buddha.)

Tatiyampi Dhammaṃ saraṇaṃ gacchāmi

(For the third time I go for refuge in the Dhamma.)

Tatiyampi Saṇghaṃ saraṇaṃ gacchāmi

(For the third time I go for refuge in the Saṇgha.)

- [Khp 1]

The Buddha spent the rainy season at Isipatana. This is one of the conventions adopted by the new Buddhist order from the samaṇa tradition. The samaṇa spent most of the year wandering around the Ganges River Valley. But many years before the Buddha, this practice came under fire during the rainy season because the wanderers were chewing up agricultural land, making it harder to work once the rains broke. Thus, the samaṇa started staying in one park during the rainy season. To this day Buddhist monks, nuns, and lay people observe this practice as the annual rains retreat, or “vassa.” It lasts from July to October.

Return to Uruvelā

After the rainy season in Isipatana, the Buddha decided to return to Uruvelā to teach the people who supported him when he was an ascetic. On his walk back to Uruvelā he ran into a group of thirty rich young men who were “sporting” in the woods together with their wives. One of the young men was not married, and he had brought a prostitute with him.

But the prostitute stole everything that she could and then ran way. So the young men began to search for her. And this is when the Buddha showed up.

Seeing him they went up to him and asked if he had seen her. This is the conversation that ensued:

…having approached him, they said to the Blessed One: “Pray, Lord, has the Blessed One seen a woman passing by?”

“What have you to do, young men, with the woman?”

“We were sporting, Lord, in this grove, thirty friends, rich young men, together with our wives. One of us had no wife; for him we had procured a harlot. Now, Lord, while we did not pay attention, and were indulging in our sports, that harlot has taken up the articles belonging to us, and has run away. Therefore, Lord, we companions, doing service to our friend, go in search of that woman, and roam about this grove.”

“Now what think you, young men? Which would be the better for you; that you should go in search of a woman, or that you should go in search of yourselves?”

“That, Lord, would be the better for us, that we should go in search of ourselves.”

“If so, young men, sit down, I will preach to you the Truth (Dhamma).”

The rich young companions replied: “Yes, Lord” and respectfully saluted the Blessed One, and sat down near him. - [Mv I.14.2-5]

The Buddha proceeded to give them the graduated discourse, after which all the young men ordained.

You may have noticed that there are a lot of young men leaving their wives to become monks. This did, indeed, become something of a problem. From time to time the discourses document this issue. The women who were left behind were called “monks’ widows.” It was one of the things that sometimes made people unhappy with the Buddha’s Saṇgha.

The Mahāvagga records a number of incidents involving miracles that happened next. It is hard to know what to think of these stories. Most Western scholars pass them off as later additions to impress the non-Buddhists.

But there is one story that is repeated often during the Buddha’s life, one that we have already seen several times now. It is a story of how the Buddha’s Saṇgha grew by the force of his personality and his teaching.

In Uruvelā at the time there were three brothers from the “Kassapa” family. They were “gatilas” (also, “jaṭila"), or “matted hair ascetics,” a kind of brahmin renunciate, and each had his following.

Once the Buddha arrived and performed his miracles, he, of course, quickly become renowned. Kassapa Number One, whose name was “Uruvelā Kassapa,” was about to hold a great celebration, a great sacrifice. And he worried that the Buddha would upstage him. But the Buddha handled the situation with great sensitivity. Rather than attending the celebration, he took his alms-food and went elsewhere, avoiding the great gathering.

The next day Kassapa sought out the Buddha and asked him why he had not attended. The Buddha told him that he had read his mind and realized that Kassapa was afraid of what would happen if the Buddha attended. This impressed Kassapa.

What came next is a little less friendly. The Buddha challenged Kassapa as to his spiritual attainments. Kassapa was vain, and said:

“Truly the great Samaṇa possesses high magical powers and great faculties, since the water does not carry him away. He is not, however, holy like me.” - [Mv I.20.16]

But the Buddha knew what he was thinking:

Then the Blessed One thought: “This foolish man will still for a long time think thus: ‘Truly the great Samaṇa possesses high magical powers and great faculties; he is not, however, holy like me.’ What if I were to move the mind of this Gatila (in order to show him my superiority).”

And the Blessed One said to the Gatila Uruvelā Kassapa: “You are not holy, Kassapa, nor have you entered the path of arahantship, nor do you walk in such a practice as will lead you to arahantship. or to entering the path of arahantship.” - [Mv I.20.17]

Kassapa was greatly cowed, and he asked the Buddha to ordain him as a monk. But the Buddha did not grant his request right away. He asked Kassapa to consider the effect this would have on his followers. He told Kassapa to talk to them and see what they had to say.

But apparently they were already pretty impressed with the Buddha. They told Kassapa that they would like to follow him and ordain as Buddhist monks. Eventually the other brothers ordained as Buddhist monks as well, as did all 1,000 of the followers of the Kassapa brothers.

It is just after this that the Buddha gave one of his famous discourses, “Adittapariyaya Sutta: The Fire Sermon” [SN 35.38]. Fire is significant because the Gatila sect was a fire cult. They used fire in many of their rituals.

In the Fire Sermon the Buddha said that the senses are burning. In the Buddha’s system there are six senses; the sixth sense is the mind. The notion is that a sense has 1) a sense organ, 2) a sense object, and 3) a sense consciousness. In the case of sight, the sense organ is the eye, the sense object is what is seen, and the sense consciousness is the ability to perceive what is seen. As to the latter, a dead person has eyes and there are objects to see, but there is no sense consciousness. For the mind, the sense organ is the brain, the sense objects are “mental formations” (thoughts, feelings, and perceptions) and the ability to perceive these is the sense consciousness.

Here the Buddha told us these are all aflame:

“The mind is burning, ideas are burning, mind-consciousness is burning, mind-contact is burning, also whatever is felt as pleasant or painful or neither-painful-nor-pleasant that arises with mind-contact for its indispensable condition, that too is burning. Burning with what? Burning with the fire of lust, with the fire of hate, with the fire of delusion. I say it is burning with birth, aging and death, with sorrows, with lamentations, with pains, with griefs, with despairs.” - [SN 35.28]

Most modern-day Buddhists are familiar with the three poisons: greed, hatred, and delusion. This is what the Buddha was discussing here.

But in a meaning that has been somewhat lost over the years, greed, hatred and delusion were also known in early Buddhism as the three fires. This is a very important meaning, because one of the renderings of “nirvāṇa” is “extinguish,” like blowing out the flame of a candle. Thus one way to describe awakening is to extinguish the fires of greed, hatred, and delusion.

9. Return to Rājagaha

King Bimbisāra

The Buddha spent as “much time as he saw fit” in Uruvelā and then proceeded to Rājagaha. He took his 1,000 new bhikkhus with him.

You may recall that the Buddha passed through Rājagaha on his journey as a samaṇa, and that King Bimbisāra offered the Buddha leadership of the Magadha cavalry.

Rājagaha was the capital of Magadha. It was the largest city in India, and Magadha was one of the two superpowers in India. King Bimbisāra established the capital in Rājagaha, presumably because it was close to a large deposit of iron ore, and because it was a defensible position.

Today the tiny village of Rajgir has replaced Rājagaha. “Rajgir” is a modernized form of the word “Rājagaha.” High mountains surround the valley. As you stand in the village and look up around you, you can see the remains of the 40-kilometer-long defensive wall that ran along the top of the mountains.

Figure: Rush hour in modern-day Rajgir

When the Buddha and his retinue arrived, the news spread quickly. It shows how much reverence Indians had for religious leaders that King Bimbisāra, along with many of his ministers, went to meet the Buddha. This was the custom. Even royalty deferred to the samaṇa. There was great respect for people who gave up worldly pursuits.

(Apropos of this, there is a cute story in the Vinaya about bathing. Some monks were bathing and King Bimbisāra, not wanting to disturb them, waited until they finished. Unfortunately, there was a strict rule in Rājagaha that after dark the city gates closed and they were not opened again until dawn, not even for the King. So the King got locked out for the night. Bimbisāra spent the night with the Buddha. The next day the Buddha reprimanded the monks for lingering, and not being considerate to the King. Then the monks overreacted and stop bathing entirely, causing the Rājagahans to complain that “the monks stink.” The Buddha then established a rule on “bathing in moderation” [Pm 8.6.56].)

So the King and his associates went to see the Buddha. Now, a lot of the Rājagahans did not know yet what to think of the Buddha. He was, in the samaṇa sense, the new kid on the block. So they paid him various levels of respect:

And of those twelve myriads of Magadha brahminas and householders 1) some also respectfully saluted the Blessed One and sat down near him; 2) some exchanged greeting with the Blessed One, having exchanged with him greeting and complaisant words, they sat down near him; 3) some bent their clasped hands towards the Blessed One and sat down near him; 4) some shouted out their name and their family name before the Blessed One and sat down near him; 5) some silently sat down near him. - [Mv I.22.3]

These different ways of greeting go from the most respectful to the merely polite.

Now the Buddha, being the new guy, was traveling with all three Kassapa brothers, the eldest of whom was the aforementioned Uruvelā Kassapa. Uruvelā Kassapa was well-known in Rājagaha, and there was some confusion about who was the teacher and who was the student. The Buddha saw this, so he turned to Kassapa and said:

“What knowledge have you gained, O inhabitant of Uruvelā, that has induced you, who were renowned for your penances, to forsake your sacred fire? I ask you, Kassapa, this question: How is it that your fire sacrifice has become deserted?” - [Mv I.22.4]

In other words, tell everyone why you abandoned your fire cult and became my student.

“I have seen the state of peace in which the basis of existence and the obstacles to perfection have ceased, which is free from attachment to sensual existence, which cannot pass over into another state, which cannot be led to another state; therefore I took no more delight in sacrifices and offerings.”

Then the venerable Uruvelā Kassapa rose from his seat, adjusted his upper robe so as to cover one shoulder, prostrated himself, inclining his head to the feet of the Blessed One, and said to the Blessed One: “My teacher, Lord, is the Blessed One, I am his pupil; my teacher, Lord, is the Blessed One, I am his pupil.” Then those twelve myriads of Magadha brahminas and householders understood: “Uruvelā Kassapa has placed himself under the spiritual direction of the great Samaṇa.” - [Mv I.22.5-6]

The Buddha then preached the graduated discourse.

King Bimbisāra was greatly impressed. Chronologically this is the first time that we get insight into his character. Despite the fact that he was the most powerful king in India, he had a good heart, and he showed his humility in this passage:

“Lord, when I was a prince, I entertained five wishes; these are fulfilled now. In former days, Lord, when I was a prince, I wished: ‘O that I might be inaugurated as king.’ This was my first wish, Lord; this is fulfilled now.

“‘And might then the holy, absolute Sambuddha [Buddha] come into my kingdom.’ This was my second wish, Lord; this is fulfilled now.

“‘And might I pay my respects to Him, the Blessed One.’ This was my third wish, Lord; this is fulfilled now.

“‘And might He the Blessed One preach his doctrine (Dhamma) to me.’ This was my fourth wish, Lord; this is fulfilled now.

“‘And might I understand His, the Blessed One’s doctrine.’ This was my fifth wish, Lord; this is fulfilled now.” - [Mv I.22.5-6]

King Bimbisāra was a contemporary of the Buddha’s. They remained friends for many decades.

The King invited all of the bhikkhus to share a meal with him at the palace.

The next day the King served the monks with his own hands. But he had another distinction to bestow on them. He gave them a park that became the world’s first monastery:

And the Magadha King Seniya Bimbisāra thought: “There is the Veluvana [Bamboo Grove], my pleasure garden, which is not too far from the town and not too near, suitable for going and coming. What if I were to make an offering of the Veluvana pleasure garden to the fraternity of Bhikkhus with the Buddha at its head?”

And the Magadha King Seniya Bimbisāra took a golden vessel (with water in it, to be poured over the Buddha’s hand); and dedicated the garden to the Blessed One by saying, “I give up this Veluvana pleasure garden, Lord, to the fraternity of Bhikkhus with the Buddha at its head.” The Blessed One accepted the park. Then the Blessed One, after having taught, incited, animated, and gladdened the Magadha king Bimbisāra by religious discourse, rose from his seat and went away.

And in consequence of this event the Blessed One, after having delivered a religious discourse, thus addressed the Bhikkhus: “I allow you, O Bhikkhus, to receive the donation of a park.” - [Mv I.22.17-18]

Figure: Bamboo Grove Monastery, Rajgir, India

Pouring water from the bowl over the Buddha’s hands was the formal, legal way for the King to transfer property. Also notice that the Buddha accepted the property on behalf of the Saṇgha, not for himself, and to do that he had to create a rule that allowed the acceptance of property. To this day this is how the Saṇgha works. All property is accepted on behalf of the entire Saṇgha.

The Two Chief Disciples

There were two young men in Rājagaha at that time named Sāriputta (“son of Sari”) and Moggallāna. They grew up in neighboring villages. They played together as children, and they were best friends.

They were also the star pupils of a samaṇa teacher named “Sañjaya.” One day when Sāriputta was out on alms rounds, he met the arahant Assaji. This is the same Assaji who was one of the first five disciples from the Deer Park. Assaji’s radiance struck Sāriputta, and Sāriputta asked him about the Dharma of his teacher.

Assaji, perhaps from an overabundance of humility, told Sāriputta that he could not give a full account of the Buddha’s teaching, but that he could give it in brief. Sāriputta said that this would suffice for now. Assaji then uttered words that have been part of the Buddhist tradition in all schools from that time:

“Of all results which proceed from a cause, the Tathāgata has explained the cause, and he has explained their cessation also; this is the doctrine of the great Samaṇa.” - [Mv I.23.5]

Sāriputta had an extraordinary intellect. Later the Buddha would call him “foremost among my bhikkhus in wisdom.” And he immediately saw the ramifications of Assaji’s statement:

“Whatsoever is subject to the condition of origination is subject also to the condition of cessation.” And he said: “If this alone be the Dhamma, now you have reached up to the state where all sorrow ceases (i.e. nirvāna), the state which has remained unseen through many eons of the past.” - [Mv I.23.5]

At that moment Sāriputta attained stream-entry, the first stage of awakening.

He immediately sought out his friend Moggallāna, and told him what had happened. And Moggallāna, too, realized the import of this teaching.

Not surprisingly they decided to become followers of the Buddha. But first they wanted to tell the 250 followers of Sañjaya what they intended to do. When they did tell them, the 250 followers of Sañjaya decided to follow Sāriputta and Moggallāna into the Buddha’s Saṇgha.

When they told Sañjaya, however, he was not inclined to go with them. At first, he suggested that the three of them run his order together. He made this offer the magical three times. But Sāriputta and Moggallāna were not interested in power brokering. They wanted to find the Truth. So they and the 250 samaṇa went to the Buddha to join his order. Sañjaya was not very gracious about this. He was so angry that he “vomited hot blood from his mouth.”

When Sāriputta and Moggallāna approached the Buddha, he saw something special in them:

“There, O Bhikkhus, two companions arrive, [Moggallāna] and [Sāriputta]; these will be a pair of true pupils, a most distinguished, auspicious pair.”

Then Sāriputta and Moggallāna went to the place where the Blessed One was; having approached him, they prostrated themselves, inclining their heads to the feet of the Blessed One, and said to the Blessed One: “Lord, let us receive the pabbajja and upasampadā ordinations from the Blessed One.”

“Come, O Bhikkhus,” said the Blessed One, “well taught is the doctrine; lead a holy life for the sake of the complete extinction of suffering.”

Thus these venerable persons received the upasampadā ordination. - [Mv I.24.3-4]

When the Buddha ordained Sāriputta and Moggallāna and the 250 samaṇa, curiously, the 250 samaṇa became arahants but Sāriputta and Moggallāna did not. Moggallāna left the Bamboo Grove and went to the village of Kallavālaputta (also “Kallavala”) to continue his practice. He had an extraordinary week, including a struggle with sleepiness [AN 7.58], mastering the eight jhānas, and attaining an even higher level of concentration called the “signless concentration.” Moggallāna later detailed his struggle to master these nine levels of concentration in the “Moggallānasaṃyutta: Connected Discourses with Moggallāna” [SN 40.1-9].

Moggallāna did attain arahantship, later telling Sāriputta that he did so in a way that was “painful and quick” [AN 4.167]. Most accounts say that this happened in the course of one week.

There is a technical note worth making here. According to the canonical descriptions, there are two ways of becoming an arahant. One is by mastering the four material jhānas and then gaining insight. This is called “liberation by wisdom.” The second way of becoming an arahant is by attaining both the material jhānas and the four immaterial jhānas, and then gaining insight. This is called “liberation by concentration.”

Moggallāna was unusual in that he gained liberation by both methods, i.e., he was “freed both ways.”

Sāriputta took somewhat longer to become an arahant. Most accounts say it was another week. He stayed at Rājagaha to make it easier to get alms-food. On that occasion the Buddha gave a discourse on the comprehension of feelings [MN 74] to a “wanderer” named Dīghanakha. At the end of the sutta, Sāriputta gained insight.

Now on that occasion the venerable Sāriputta was standing behind the Blessed One, fanning him. Then he thought: “The Blessed One, indeed, speaks to us of the abandoning of these things through direct knowledge; the Sublime One, indeed, speaks to us of the relinquishing of these things through direct knowledge.” As the venerable Sāriputta considered this, through not clinging his mind was liberated from the taints. - [MN 74.14]

Sāriputta was, like Moggallāna, “liberated in both ways” [Nyanaponika Thera, Hellmuth Hecker, Great Disciples of the Buddha].

Thus the Buddha made Sāriputta and Moggallāna his two chief disciples. The Buddha told his monks that the reason it took them longer to become arahants was because they had to attain a special level of arahantship to serve the Buddha. They had to be Super Arahants.

Sāriputta and Moggallāna had different temperaments. This may be why they were such good friends. As often happens, opposites attract, or perhaps more appropriately, opposites complement each other.

Moggallāna gift was psychic powers (siddhi in both Buddhism and Hinduism). In the early days of the Buddha’s teaching he sometimes used his psychic powers to convince people of his attainment. But quickly the Buddha discouraged their use. The Vinaya forbids monks and nuns from displaying psychic powers, or even discussing their meditative attainments. This means that the Canon hardly mentions Moggallāna’s abilities.

Psychic powers are one of those difficult topics for Westerners. We tend to be skeptical. And not everyone develops them, even arahants. In fact, not even all arahants practice the immaterial attainments. The path to awakening is quite individual.

Psychic powers do not necessarily help you in the quest for awakening. Some people get so enamored of their psychic abilities that they stop working on their practice. So in Buddhism psychic powers are something akin to parlor tricks.

However, psychic powers can manifest in a meditation practice. This is not just something that happened during the Buddha’s time. Mind reading is “relatively” common. Even non-meditators can read minds. The great 20th century practitioner Dipa Ma studied psychic powers with another master, Anagarika Munindra [Schmidt, Dipa Ma: The Life and Legacy of a Buddhist Master]. Those familiar with the TV program Kung Fu know that Shaolin priests were known to walk through walls.

When you hang around the Buddhist world long enough you are bound to hear some amazing stories. And in my experience they come from sober, reliable sources.

Conversely, I know someone with a Ph.D. in Buddhism who does not believe in rebirth. One day his students confronted him with evidence of rebirth, and he became frustrated and spouted out, “I just don’t believe it!” Stubbornly refusing to believe something doesn’t make it not true.

I am not saying that you have to believe in rebirth or psychic powers or anything else you don’t want to. However, as I suggested earlier, it might be to your benefit to be open to different ideas, to be skeptical of your skepticism. There are things you know, and there are things about which you have opinions. Hold your opinions lightly.

As for the Buddha’s other chief disciple, Sāriputta could not have been more different from Moggallāna. He had an extraordinary intellect. By far the most detailed and complex discourses in the Pāli Canon are Sāriputta’s. A good example is the “Sammādiṭṭhi Sutta: The Discourse on Right View” [MN 9]. It is an exhaustive talk on the many ways to understand right view in the Buddha’s Dharma.

This is a good example of how practicing the Dharma is more like art than mathematics. Everyone’s temperament is different. The precise way in which someone will attain awakening will be personal and unique. This is one problem with the Abhidhamma, which tries to apply “mathematical precision” to a process that, as Richard Gombrich says, is more like the imperfect world of engineering:

I believe that the Abhidharma, which codified and categorized the teachings while stripping out metaphor, tended to misinterpret the Buddha by attributing mathematical accuracy to his statements, when that was not his intention. One example of this may be that the Abhidharma says that nirvāṇa is always an identical phenomenon. I think this is more specific than the Buddha was.

- [“What the Buddha Taught: An Interview with Richard Gombrich”, Fall 2012 Tricycle Magazine]

Sāriputta and Moggallāna are the two extremes of personalities, and the two extremes of Buddhist practice. Most of us will fall somewhere in between. Westerners will probably shade more closely to Sāriputta. But then one day you will be meditating and something unusual will happen. You will remember something from a previous life or see into another realm. The first few times this happens you tend to explain it away. But after a while these experiences just become part of a larger world that opens up, slowly and over time, as your mind develops.

10. Return to Sakya

The Buddha spent his second rains retreat at the Bamboo Grove. By that time there were huts for the monks. It was now a legitimate monastery. The monastic community was growing.

But this is real life, and none of this came without problems.

With 1,000 monks at the Bamboo Grove and 60,000 residents of Rājagaha, this put a strain on the city’s resources. Some of the people resented the monks and started calling them names and ridiculing them. They also resented having so many “monks’ widows”:

At that time many distinguished young Magadha noblemen led a religious life under the direction of the Blessed One. The people were annoyed, murmured, and became angry (saying), “The Samaṇa Gotama causes fathers to beget no sons; the Samaṇa Gotama causes wives to become widows; the Samaṇa Gotama causes families to become extinct. Now he has ordained one thousand Gatilas [matted hair ascetics], and he has ordained these two hundred and fifty paribbāgakas [brahmin recluses] who were followers of Sañjaya; and these many distinguished young Magadha noblemen are now leading a religious life under the direction of the Samaṇa Gotama.” And moreover, when they saw the Bhikkhus, they reviled them in the following stanza:

“The great Samaṇa has come

to Rājagaha of the Magadha people,

leading with him in all the followers of Sañjaya;

who will be the next to be led by him?”

But the Buddha told his monks that this commotion would only last seven days, and when the people ridiculed them with their verse, they should reply with a verse of their own:

“So when people mock you with that stanza, you can reprove them in return with this stanza:

‘They lead by Dhamma who are

Great Heros too, and Perfect Ones.

And when they thus lead by Dhamma,

Where is the ground for jealousy?’” - [Mv I.24.5-7]

As the Buddha predicted, the commotion died down after seven days. In this case the Buddha taught the monks to stand their moral ground, be firm in their purpose, and to practice patience. You can often accomplish a lot by doing little and remaining resolute.

Of course, with so many monks the Saṇgha was not entirely blameless, either. Many of the monks behaved badly. They did not comport themselves with dignity, and they were even rude to people from whom they wanted alms-food.

This is when the Buddha established the rule that all monks with the new “lower ordination” should choose a preceptor. The preceptor’s job is to ensure that the student learns how to behave in accord with the Dharma. There is an extensive section in the Vinaya where the Buddha described the responsibilities of the preceptor towards the student and vice versa [Mv 1.25-26].

Here it is worth talking a little about the Vinaya.

The Buddha said that what he taught was the “Dharma and Discipline”:

“Bhikkhus, in such a Dhamma and Discipline as that, it is plain that confidence in the Teacher is rightly directed, that confidence in the Dhamma is rightly directed, that fulfilment of the precepts is rightly directed, and that the affection among companions in the Dhamma is rightly directed. Why is that? Because that is how it is when the Dhamma and Discipline is well proclaimed and well expounded, emancipating, conducive to peace, expounded by one who is fully enlightened.” - [MN 11.15]

You will also see “Dharma and Discipline” rendered as “Doctrine and Discipline” or “Dharma and Vinaya.”

The “Sutta Pitaka” (literally “basket of discourses”) documents the Dharma. The above quote from the Majjhima Nikāya is part of the Sutta Pitaka. These discourses are the central teachings of Buddhism: the Four Noble Truths, causality, karma, virtue, meditation, and so forth.

The Vinaya is the monastic code. “Vinaya” literally means “discipline.” It is the code of behavior for monks and nuns. The code for monks has over 200 rules, and the code for nuns has over 300 rules. The extra rules for nuns are mainly to protect them, such as the rule against nuns traveling alone. In ancient India it was very dangerous for a woman to travel by herself.

Lay people follow the Five Precepts: non-harming, not stealing, sexual responsibility, right speech, and not using intoxicants. Lay people follow Eight Precepts on special occasions at a monastery, and novice monks and nuns follow Ten Precepts.

Unfortunately the Vinaya’s importance has been largely lost over the centuries. Yet it is central to the Buddha’s teaching. The ground of Buddhism is generosity. The foundation that sits on top of that ground is virtue, as codified in the Five Precepts and the Vinaya. Without generosity and virtue, the practices of serenity and insight through meditation have no meaning.

One of the unique aspects to Buddhism is that it is an “orthopraxy.” An “orthodoxy” is a belief system; an orthopraxy is a behavior system. When you become a Buddhist you do not subscribe to a creed. You agree to behave according to the ethical and moral rules of behavior.

The Vinaya is sometimes called the monastics’ constitution. It has three purposes:

1. It expands on the five lay precepts to give greater detail on the ethical and moral code of behavior that is proper for a Buddhist monk.

2. It provides procedures to ensure harmony in the Saṇgha, especially when disputes arise.

3. It provides a code of conduct that is intended to earn the respect of the laity.

The most senior monks handle any disputes in the Saṇgha. A monk’s seniority starts when he ordains. You may recall that seniority was also used in the Buddha’s home country of Sakya.

As to earning the respect of the laity, there are many rules to prevent even the appearance of impropriety. For example, a monk is never to be alone in the presence of a woman, even if the woman is his sister or mother. And in a day and age when such innocent occurrences are routinely blown up over the Internet, you can probably see why this is a good rule.

Monks and nuns recite the monastic code on new moon and full moon days. These are “Uposatha Days.” They also confess any transgressions. Uposatha Days are one of those special occasions when lay people enter the monastery and observe the Eight Precepts. Lay people are also encouraged to chant the Five Precepts as part of their meditation practice.

Even though we are barely two years into the Buddha’s teaching career, the Vinaya was growing into a complete code of conduct. The sutta collection was also growing.

According to the Buddhavaṃsa (History of the Buddhas), soon after the Buddha’s awakening, Suddhodana sent several messengers to ask his son to return to Sakya. All of them were so inspired by the Buddha that they ordained as bhikkhus. Because arahants are uninterested in worldly affairs, they never delivered Suddhodana’s message. It was like sending a message into a black hole of conflicting life priorities. Finally Suddhodana sent Kāḷudāyin, the son of one of Suddhodana’s ministers and a childhood friend of Siddhartha. Suddhodana made Kāḷudāyin promise that he would not ordain until after he delivered the message. Kāḷudāyin was apparently quite the flowery orator, as we can see from the message that he delivered to the Buddha:

“Crimson now, Sir, are the trees of the forest,

Having shed their foliage, they’re eager to fruit,

(Their flowers are) blazing forth like brilliant flames,

— It is a luscious time of year, Great Hero.

“The blossoming trees, so pleasing to the mind,

Spread their fragrance in every direction,

Surrendering their leaves and longing for fruit;

— The time has come to depart from here, Hero.

“It is neither too cold, nor again too hot,

The season is pleasant, suited for travel.

My Lord, let the Sakyas and Koliyas see you

— Facing westward and crossing the Rohini [river].”

- [Thag 10.1]

The Buddha agreed to return, and after the second rains retreat, the Buddha set out for Kapilavattu, taking Sāriputta and others with him.

The visit does not seem to have gone very well. The canonical accounts are rather terse, which contrasts sharply with the amount of detail that we have about his time in Sarnath and Rājagaha. One account says that the Sakyans were not inclined to pay deference to the Buddha out of their own pride (The Life of the Buddha). Another account says that they remembered how spoiled the young Siddhartha was and likewise were not inclined to be very respectful toward him (The Historical Buddha). Whatever the case, it was not a triumphant return. Suddhodana even admonished the Buddha for begging alms-food, to which the Buddha replied that this is the way of the Buddhas.

Yasodharā was also still bitter about Siddhartha leaving them and sent Rāhula to “collect his inheritance.” And of course the Buddha had nothing material to give him:

Then the princess, who was the mother of Rāhula, said to young Rāhula: “This is your father, Rāhula; go and ask him for your inheritance.” - [Mv I.54.1]

The seven-year-old Rāhula did what his mother told him to do:

Then young Rāhula went to the place where the Blessed One was; having approached him, he stationed himself before the Blessed One (and said): “Your shadow, Samaṇa, is a place of bliss.”

Then the Blessed One rose from his seat and went away, and young Rāhula followed the Blessed One from behind and said: “Give me my inheritance, Samaṇa; give me my inheritance, Samaṇa.” - [Mv I.54.2]

Those of you who are parents will note Rāhula’s tone here. It feels something like “Are we there yet?”

The Buddha finally instructed Sāriputta to ordain the boy:

Then the Blessed One said to the venerable Sāriputta: “Well, Sāriputta, confer the pabbajja ordination on young Rāhula.” (Sāriputta replied): “How shall I confer, Lord, the pabbajja ordination on young Rāhula?”

In consequence of that and on this occasion the Blessed One, after having delivered a religious discourse, thus addressed the Bhikkhus: “I prescribe, O Bhikkhus, the pabbajja ordination of novices by the threefold declaration of taking refuge.

“And you ought, O Bhikkhus, to confer the pabbajja ordination (on a novice) in this way: Let him first have his hair and beard cut off; let him put on yellow robes, adjust his upper robe so as to cover one shoulder, salute the feet of the Bhikkhus (with his head), and sit down squatting; then let him raise his joined hands and tell him to say: ‘I take my refuge in the Buddha, I take my refuge in the Dhamma, I take my refuge in the Saṇgha. And for the second time, etc. And for the third time, etc.’

“I prescribe, O Bhikkhus, the pabbajja ordination of novices by this threefold declaration of taking refuge.”

Thus the venerable Sāriputta conferred the pabbajja ordination on young Rāhula. - [Mv I.54.2-3]

Thus, Rāhula received his inheritance.

Upon hearing that Rāhula ordained, Suddhodana was inconsolable. First he lost his son to the holy life, and now his grandson. He went to the Buddha and begged him to not ordain anyone without the parents’ consent. The Buddha agreed to this, making it a rule in the Vinaya. However, the Buddha did not retract Rāhula’s ordination, which it seems clear Suddhodana wanted.

There were other Sakyans who also ordained on this first visit back to Kapilavattu. One was his half-brother Nanda. But Nanda was not committed to the holy life. It is possible that he ordained out of respect for his stepbrother. Nanda was particularly enchanted with beautiful women, especially one he had seen just prior to his ordination, a “Sakyan girl who was the envy of the countryside.” So Nanda decided to disrobe. The Buddha heard about this and summoned Nanda.

When Nanda arrived, the Buddha used his magical powers to take Nanda to the “heaven of the Thirty-three” (the Tāvatiṃsa heaven), where 500 “dove-footed nymphs” were waiting upon Sakka, the ruler of the devas:

“What do you think, Nanda? Which is lovelier, better looking, more charming: the Sakyan girl, the envy of the countryside, or these 500 dove-footed nymphs?”

“Lord, compared to these 500 dove-footed nymphs, the Sakyan girl, the envy of the countryside, is like a cauterized monkey with its ears and nose cut off. She doesn’t count. She’s not even a small fraction. There’s no comparison. The 500 dove-footed nymphs are lovelier, better looking, more charming.”

“Then take joy, Nanda. Take joy! I am your guarantor for getting 500 dove-footed nymphs.”

“If the Blessed One is my guarantor for getting 500 dove-footed nymphs, I will enjoy leading the holy life under the Blessed One.” - [Nanda Sutta: Ud 3.2]

This caused a stir among the Saṇgha. Nanda’s fellow monks ridiculed him, saying that he had been bought off with the promise of 500 nymphs. This caused Nanda to become more determined than ever to attain arahantship, something that he finally did accomplish.

After the Buddha left Kapilavattu, another Sakyan, the Buddha’s cousin Mahānāma, thought that it was unfitting that no other blood relatives of the Buddha had gone forth:

“Now the most distinguished of the young men of the Sakya clan have already renounced the world in imitation of the Blessed One, but from our own family [few have] gone forth from the household life into the houseless state. Let therefore either I, or Anuruddha, renounce the world.” And he went to Anuruddha the Sakyan, and said, “Either therefore do you go forth, or I will do so.” - [Cv VI.1.1]

Anuruddha was particularly spoiled, and he was an unlikely candidate to become a renunciate. In the Dhammapada Commentary there is this amusing story about him:

It is said that in his youth he lived in such luxury he had never even heard the phrase ”there isn’t any,” for whatever he may want his desire would immediately be fulfilled. One day Anuruddha was playing at marbles with five other Sakyan youths and he had bet cakes on the result. The first three times he lost and sent home to his mother for cakes and three times his mother promptly supplied them. When he lost a fourth time, however, and he again sent for cakes, his mother replied, “There isn’t any cake to send.” Since Anuruddha had never heard the expression “there isn’t any,” he assumed this must be some kind of cake, so he sent a man to his mother with the message, “Send me some there-isn’t-any cakes.” To teach him a lesson his mother sent him an empty platter, but even then fortune was still on his side. Owing to his good fortune from an earlier life, the gods were determined that Anuruddha should not be disappointed, and thus they filled the empty platter with delicious celestial cakes. When Anuruddha tasted them he was so delighted that he repeatedly sent back to his mother for more platters of there-isn’t-any cakes, and by the time each platter arrived it had been filled with heavenly delicacies.

- [Nyanaponika, Hecker, Great Disciples of the Buddha]

So when Māhanāma suggested that one of them become a Buddhist monk, you can imagine that Anuruddha was not very enthusiastic. But Māhanāma described in great detail what his responsibilities would be if he remained as a householder, and eventually Anuruddha relented, it appears, because becoming a monk was the path of minimum effort, or so he thought.

So Anuruddha went to their mother and asked permission to ordain. His mother was reluctant and said that Anuruddha could only ordain if his friend Bhadiya also ordained. Bhadiya was also a wealthy young Sakyan, and it seems clear that Anuruddha’s mother did not think that it was likely that Bhadiya would agree to ordain. But after a prolonged discussion with Bhadiya, he did, indeed, agree to go forth.

(In one version of the story Bhadiya is a royal governor, but apparently this version of the story confuses Bhadiya with his father.)

Anuruddha‘s example inspired other young men of Sakya to ordain as well. It was a formidable group, Dharmically speaking. It included the Buddha’s cousin Ānanda, who eventually became the Buddha’s attendant and “foremost in knowledge of the suttas.” There was Anuruddha, about whom are written some of the most poetic passages in the Canon. There was Bhadiya, who is the subject of the lovely “Kāḷigodha Sutta” [Ud 2.10]. There was Bhagu, who has verses in the Theragāthā. There was Kimbila, who is also in the Theragāthā, and there was the Buddha’s cousin, Devadatta. You may already know about Devadatta. He becomes important later in the story.

And there was another rather unassuming member of this group, their barber “Upāli.” The group of young men snuck out of Kapilavattu so they would not be discovered, and as part of the deception they left wearing their fine clothes and jewelry. They took Upāli as their servant to deal with their fancy things once they were well clear of the city.

But when it came time for them to remove their clothes and jewels and don the robes of a bhikkhu, Upāli had second thoughts about returning to Kapilavattu. “The Sakyans are a fierce people,” he reasoned. “They will think that I have murdered the youths, and they might kill me” [Cv VII.1.4]. So Upāli also decided to ordain.

In a touching display of humility, the six, wealthy Sakyan men were so impressed by Upāli’s decision that when they ordained, they asked the Buddha to ordain Upāli first. This gave him seniority over them in the Saṇgha.

Thus ended the Buddha’s first trip to his home city of Kapilavattu. It was not a great success, but it did bring him some of his most important followers. But the Buddha never did get the kind of renown in Sakya that he got in other places like Rājagaha. As Jesus of Nazareth would later say, “No prophet is accepted in his own country” [King James Bible, Luke 4:24].

11. Two Gentlemen of India

Next the Buddha went to Kosambī, the capital city of the monarchy of Vatsa (also “Vaṃsa”). There he met a prominent merchant named Ghosita. Ghosita later gave the Saṇgha some land for a monastery. There is a little anecdote in the Sutta Nipāta that gives the travel route from the town of Mahissati to Ragraha, one that passed through Kosambī: Ujjeni, Gonaddha, Vedisa, Vanasavhya, Kosambī, Sāketa, Sāvathī, Settavyā, Kapilavattu, Kushinigar, Pāvā, Bhoganagara and Vesāli. Thus we have a precise order of the towns along the route. Kosambī was also one of the main travel routes between the kingdoms of Kosala and Magadhi.

The Aṇguttara Nikāya lists 16 countries in the Buddha’s world. These were the “Mahajanapada,” or “great realms.” India was going through a political and economic transformation. Monarchies were replacing the old style tribal republics and oligarchy/republics like Sakya. Some of the 16 Mahajanapadas listed in the Aṇguttara Nikāya were annexed into the monarchies of Kosala and Magadha during the Buddha’s lifetime.

Figure: The “great realms”

You often see the phrase “wandering by stages” in the Buddhist texts. A stage was a “yojana,” the standard unit of measure in those days. A yojana is the distance that a yoked ox could pull a cart before it needed rest and water. This was about ten kilometers (six miles). Also presumably it was this system of travel, with rest areas and watering holes every ten kilometers, that the samaṇa used in their travels.

The Buddha next traveled back to Rājagaha to spend the rains retreat at Veluvana, the Bamboo Grove. By now this was familiar territory. The Buddha’s favorite place to meditate was on Vulture Peak, and when he needed shelter from the rain he retired to the Boar’s Cave, which is on the same mountain.

It was on this trip that the Buddha met Jīvaka.

Figure: The Boar’s Cave in Rājagaha

Jīvaka

Jīvaka’s mother was a prosperous courtesan in Magadha, probably the most renowned courtesan at that time. But she became pregnant, and she hid her pregnancy so that she would not lose any business. When the boy was born she took him, put him in a basket, and left him on a “dust heap.”

The boy was found by the royal prince, Abhaya, a son of King Bimbisāra, so he grew up in a life of comfort. (It says something about the character of King Bimbisāra that his son would take in the baby and that Bimbisāra gave his support, which he must have done.) Jīvaka proved to have a gifted intellect, and eventually became a physician. By the time he met the Buddha, Jīvaka was probably the most famous doctor in India, and he was the personal physician to King Bimbisāra. As such, he was also responsible for the health of the Saṇgha. So when the Buddha returned to Rājagaha, Jīvaka took the opportunity to meet the famous samaṇa.

Figure: A somewhat smoggy Vulture Peak

Now Jīvaka, as a compassionate person and a prominent physician, was quite interested in what the Buddha had to say about killing animals and the eating of meat. The conversation started as follows:

“Venerable sir, I have heard this: ‘They slaughter living beings for the recluse Gotama; the recluse Gotama knowingly eats meat prepared for him from animals killed for his sake.’ Venerable sir, do those who speak thus say what has been said by the Blessed One, and not misrepresent him with what is contrary to fact? Do they explain in accordance with the Dhamma in such a way that nothing which provides a ground for censure can be legitimately deduced from their assertions?” - [MN 55.3]

The Buddha responded:

“Jīvaka, those who speak thus do not say what has been said by me, but misrepresent me with what is untrue and contrary to fact.

“Jīvaka, I say that there are three instances in which meat should not be eaten: when it is seen, heard, or suspected [that the living being has been slaughtered for oneself]. I say that meat should not be eaten in these three instances. I say that there are three instances in which meat may be eaten: when it is not seen, not heard, and not suspected [that the living being has been slaughtered for oneself]. I say that meat may be eaten in these three instances.” - [MN 55.4-5]

The Buddha went on to explain that it is the state of mind of the bhikkhu that is important. A bhikkhu takes food only to sustain the body and facilitate the practice. He takes the food with a mind imbued with loving-kindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity, without “hatred or ill will,” lust, or delusion.

The Buddha addressed the state of mind of someone who slaughters animals:

“If anyone slaughters a living being for the Tathāgata or his disciple, he lays up much demerit in five instances. When he says: 1) ‘Go and fetch that living being,’ this is the first instance in which he lays up much demerit. When that living being 2) experiences pain and grief on being led along with a neck-halter, this is the second instance in which he lays up much demerit. When he says: 3) ‘Go and slaughter that living being,’ this is the third instance in which he lays up much demerit. When that living being 4) experiences pain and grief on being slaughtered, this is the fourth instance in which he lays up much demerit. When he 5) provides the Tathāgata or his disciple with food that is not permissible, this is the fifth instance in which he lays up much demerit. Anyone who slaughters a living being for the Tathāgata or his disciple lays up much demerit in these five instances.” - [MN 55.12]

The Buddha impressed Jīvaka with his wisdom. Given the times, it was practical. Food was not always easy to come by. Certainly the policy was thoughtful. So Jīvaka became a lay disciple.

(Note that in modern times, the issue of vegetarianism is more complicated. In more prosperous countries like those in Europe, and in the U.S., Canada, Australia, New Zealand, etc., being vegetarian is usually easy. Also note that the “dhutanga” are an extended set of rules that a monk or nun may choose to follow, and these include the choice to not eat meat.)

This conversation took place at a Mango Grove that Jīvaka owned and was a favorite spot of his. It was on the same mountain as Vulture Peak and the Boar’s Cave. He eventually gave it to the Saṇgha, and built a monastery there. In addition to the above sutta, there was another discourse delivered here. In the “Jīvaka Sutta” [AN 8.26] the Buddha instructed Jīvaka on the duties of a lay follower.

Figure: Stone remains of buildings from the monastery at Jīvaka’s Mango Grove

Jīvaka’s position as physician to the Saṇgha did create some problems. Some people who were sick ordained in order to get medical care. This put a burden on Jīvaka, who was, after all, providing these services for free. Eventually Jīvaka asked the Buddha to prohibit anyone who was ill from ordaining. The Buddha agreed and made this a rule in the monastic code. To this day one of the few requirements for ordination is that you assure that you are in good health [Mv I.39.5-7].

Anāthapiṇḍika

There was a wealthy gold merchant and banker from Kosala whose given name was “Sudatta.” But he was so generous that he earned the honorific name “Anāthapiṇḍika,” which means “feeder of the orphans or helpless.”

(As sometimes happens in the Pāli Canon the chronology is a little confused. One account gives the meeting between the Buddha and Anāthapiṇḍika as happening in his first trip to Rājagaha. Another one gives it as happening in the third year after his awakening. I am deferring to Schumann who puts the meeting in the third year. I consider this more likely because, as the story from the Cullavagga goes, the Buddha had attained a great reputation by this time. Thus I think it is more likely that this took a few years.)

Anāthapiṇḍika married the sister of a prominent merchant in Rājagaha. He happened to travel to Rājagaha on business. When he got there, he was surprised by a somewhat cool reception. He had, after all, traveled a long way. His brother-in-law and his household were excitedly preparing a meal for the next day. The preparations were so grand that Anāthapiṇḍika thought that King Bimbisāra was going to visit, or that there was going to be a wedding. He was surprised to discover that the Buddha was going to visit.

The interchange that followed is quite charming. When Anāthapiṇḍika found out that these preparations were for the Buddha, he kept saying “the Buddha?” as if he could not believe what he was hearing:

“…the Order [Saṇgha] is invited for the morrow with the Buddha at its head.”

“Did you, householder, say ‘the Buddha?’”

“‘The Buddha’ I did say, householder.”

“Did you, householder, say ‘the Buddha?’”

“‘The Buddha’ I did say, householder.”

“Did you, householder, say ‘the Buddha?’”

“‘The Buddha’ I did say, householder.”

“Even this sound, householder, is hard to come by in the world, that is to say ‘the Buddha, the Buddha.’” - [Cv VI.4.2]

Anāthapiṇḍika wanted to immediately go and find the Buddha, but his brother-in-law told him that it was inappropriate to seek him out at that time. But Anāthapiṇḍika was so excited by the idea of meeting the Buddha that he walked to the Sītavana, a grove where the Buddha was staying. The Sītavana also contained a cemetery, and when Anāthapiṇḍika approached the grove he was frightened. But a “yakka” (spirit) told Anāthapiṇḍika that if he continued into the grove it would profit him.

In the morning, when Anāthapiṇḍika awoke, he saw the Buddha doing walking meditation. The Buddha told him to approach, using his given name “Sudatta.” Anāthapiṇḍika was not used to being called “Sudatta,” and he was impressed. Thereupon the Buddha gave Anāthapiṇḍika the graduated discourse. The Buddha could see that Anāthapiṇḍika’s mind was ripe, so he continued right through the Four Noble Truths, at which point Anāthapiṇḍika saw into the truth of conditionality, and he became a stream-enterer.

Anāthapiṇḍika invited the Buddha and the Saṇgha to share a meal the following day, and the Buddha agreed. Subsequently, Anāthapiṇḍika invited the Buddha and the Saṇgha to come to his hometown of Sāvatthī, the capital of Kosala. The Buddha agreed to this. When Anāthapiṇḍika made the trip home, along the way he exhorted people to build huts and make preparations, for “the Buddha was going to travel along that way.”

When Anāthapiṇḍika returned to Sāvatthī, he went to considerable effort to find the perfect place for the Buddha and his Saṇgha:

Now where could the Lord stay that would be neither too far from a village, nor too near, suitable for coming and going, accessible to people whenever they want, not crowded by day, having little noise at night, little sound, without folks’ breath, secluded from people, fitting for meditation? - [Cv VI.4.8]

He did, indeed, find the perfect spot. Unfortunately for Anāthapiṇḍika, it was the prized possession of Prince Jeta, the son of King Pasenadi. Prince Jeta told Anāthapiṇḍika, “The pleasure grove is not to be given away, householder, even for the price of a hundred thousand [gold pieces]” [Cv VI.4.9].

Here we get a glimpse into a bit of ancient Indian law. Prince Jeta had just named a price, even if it was in his refusal. Anāthapiṇḍika was well versed in the law, and he took his case before a royal arbitration court, claiming that Prince Jeta had set a price and was therefore obligated to sell it to him. The court decided in his favor, and thus forced Prince Jeta to sell the grove to Anāthapiṇḍika. The account goes on to say that Anāthapiṇḍika had the gold pieces brought down in carts and spread out to cover the whole grove.

The place came to be known as Jetavana (Jeta’s Grove), Anāthapiṇḍika’s Monastery. Unfortunately, over time it was simply known as Jetavana, dropping Anāthapiṇḍika’s name. Fortunately most Buddhists know the story of Anāthapiṇḍika and how he acquired the monastery for the Saṇgha out of his kindness and generosity.

(When I was India I also heard the following story, although I have been unable to confirm it. In India, then as now, when you buy property, this does not include the trees. The trees are considered separately. According to the story Prince Jeta was so impressed by Anāthapiṇḍika’s generosity that he donated the trees to the Saṇgha as well.)

Figure: Jetavana, Anāthapiṇḍika’s Monastery

The Buddha would eventually spend more rains retreats and give more important discourses at Jetavana than any other place in India. Jīvaka and Anāthapiṇḍika represent the very best examples of lay Buddhists. Both of them were exceptionally kind, generous, and gifted people well before they met the Buddha. Becoming disciples of the Buddha simply gave a final expression to those natural qualities. And their example is an inspiration to lay Buddhists to this day.

12. King Pasenadi

In a short period of time the Buddha became a favored and influential person in Magadha. Now, at the invitation of Anāthapiṇḍika, he was going to make his first trip to the other Indian superpower, Kosala, and its capital city of Sāvatthī.

The presumptive route that the Buddha took to Sāvatthī included passing through Kapilavattu, where he notably did not stop, and through Vesāli, an extremely prosperous city at that time.

When the Buddha arrived in Sāvatthī he and his monks took up residence at Jetavana, and the next morning they went to Anāthapiṇḍika’s home to receive a meal. There, Anāthapiṇḍika asked the Buddha how he wanted to handle the transfer of ownership of the property.

In yet another one of those interesting insights into Indian law, as well as the Buddha’s own wisdom, this time the Buddha did not accept ownership of the property on behalf of the Saṇgha. The speculation is that the experience of owning Veluvana had taught the Buddha about the burdens of owning property. The property has to be maintained and cared for, and one of the goals of going forth was to remove yourself from worldy concerns. Thus the Buddha accepted Jetavana on permanent loan, but the property remained with Anāthapiṇḍika as the owner. This is how all future property donations were handled by the Saṇgha.

It is also possible that the Buddha knew about the dangers in making the Saṇgha wealthy. There is plenty of evidence of this in any successful religion, and that includes Buddhism. There are few things as dangerous as people fighting over material possessions.

One of the early visitors to Jetavana was the King of Kosala, King Pasenadi. King Pasenadi is one of the most colorful figures of the Buddha’s time. As a young man, his father sent him to study at the University of Takkasīla. Takkasīla was a difficult proving ground, and it was known for its severe and Spartan training. Pasenadi earned his political stripes as Governor of Benares, after which his father turned over the rule of the country to him.

King Pasenadi had a big, complicated and sometimes contradictory personality. Chapter three of the Saṃyutta Nikāya (The Connected Discourses) has 25 discourses that recount conversations between the Buddha and him. One of the many colorful stories is about his legendary appetite and obesity. On one occasion Pasenadi ate a “bucketful of rice and curries,” then “huffed and puffed” his way to see the Buddha. The Buddha, seeing this excess, recited the following verse:

“When a man is always mindful,

Knowing moderation in the food he eats,

His ailments then diminish

He ages slowly, guarding his life.”

- [SN 3.13]

After hearing this, King Pasenadi turned to one of his attendants and instructed him to recite this verse when the King ate a meal.

When you read the Pāli Canon, you see the Buddha’s incredible patience and equanimity, especially with lay people. The Buddha could be quite sharp with his own monks, especially if they misbehaved or, even more egregiously, they misrepresented the Dharma. There is an important lesson in this for the many people who today misrepresent the Dharma. And while he is occasionally dismissive of non-Buddhist lay people who hold wrong views, he is almost always patient and kind to a fault. You can imagine that in this case the Buddha could have shown revulsion at King Pasenadi’s excess, but he did not. He gave a measured and kind response, one that was beneficial. His interactions with lay people were always to help them in some way, no matter what their situation was in life and no matter what their level of understanding.

Almost everyone who knows even a little about Buddhism knows that the Buddha instructed us to act out of “right intention”: generosity, loving-kindness, compassion, joy, equanimity, and wisdom. But this is a very tall order. How many times a day do you do that? It requires a great deal of in-the-moment awareness to catch yourself before you think, say, or do something, to make sure that you are acting out of kindness and good will.

Yet we see the Buddha do this over and over, even in very difficult circumstances. The Buddha’s decision to teach his Dharma brought him a great deal of trouble. He had plenty of detractors. He had misbehaving monks. He had people who simply did not believe him and his claims of awakening. There was plenty of intrigue, and this continued throughout his life. He could have chosen not to take on any of this. But out of compassion for the world, he invited these problems and troubles into his life on the chance that every so often someone “with little dust in their eyes” would attain awakening.

King Pasenadi, as with King Bimbisāra, became a great supporter of the Buddha. He built a hall at Jetavana for the Saṇgha. But although he “went forth” as a lay disciple of the Buddha, King Pasenadi continued to support the Vedic religion. Once he even ordered a great blood sacrifice of animals. So it was a bit of a mixed bag.

There was another very important member of the Pasenadi household, and that was Queen Mallika.

Mallika was a “flower girl,” born into poverty. But she was a uniquely kind, generous, and loving person. One day she had some “sour gruel” in her basket (presumably her lunch), when she saw the Buddha entering Sāvatthī just as she was leaving it. She was so inspired by his radiance that she gave her meager portion of food to him.

That very day King Pasenadi had lost a battle. (The story from the Jātakas says that the battle was with Ajātasattu, King Bimbisāra’s son. However, this is problematical in terms of the timeline. Ajātasattu did not become the King until later, so either the battle was with someone else, or Mallika does not enter the story until a time that is too late to make sense.) When Pasenadi returned from the battle, weary and despondent, he came upon Mallika:

As he came on his horse he heard the sound of her singing, and being attracted by it he rode towards the garden. The girl’s merit was ripe: so when she saw the King she came without running away, and seized at the bridle by the horse’s nose. The King from horseback asked if she was married or not. Hearing that she was not, he dismounted, and being wearied with wind and sun rested for a little time in her lap: then he made her mount, and with a great army entered the town and brought her to her own house.

At evening he sent a chariot and with great honor and pomp brought her from her house, set her on a heap of jewels, anointed her and made her chief queen. From that time onward she was the dear, beloved and devoted wife of the King, possessed of faithful servants and the five feminine charms: and she was a favorite of the Buddha’s. It became spread through the whole city that she had attained such prosperity because she had given the three portions of gruel to the Master.

- [Ja 415, Kummasapinda Jātaka]

While King Pasenadi’s commitment to the Buddha ebbed and flowed, this was not the case with Mallika. She had a great deal of influence on the King, and once she even convinced him to destroy the Vedic sacrificial altars [Ja 77, Mahasupina Jātaka and Ja 314, Lohakumbhi Jātaka]. King Pasenadi even tried her patience by promoting someone else to chief queen above Mallika. But she was so kind and compassionate that the two women lived together in peace and harmony [AN 4.52]. Mallika was the embodiment of virtue, and she continues to inspire to this day.

13. The Order of Bhikkhunīs

The Buddha returned to Rājagaha for the fourth rains retreat. Speculation is that even with the generosity of Anāthapiṇḍika in Sāvatthī, there was not enough infrastructure there yet (huts, buildings, etc.) to host a rains retreat. Indeed, it would be 11 years after Jetavana became a Buddhist monastery before the Buddha spent his first rains retreat there.

On the fourth rains retreat, the city of Vesāli was suffering from a severe drought with an accompanying cholera epidemic. The chaplain of Vesāli sent word to King Bimbisāra asking that he persuade the Buddha to come and help end the crisis. As was true in most ancient cultures there was a belief that holy people could affect the weather, and the Buddha’s reputation had spread to Vesāli by then.

The Buddha agreed to go, and with his entourage they went on their way. This group included his cousin Ānanda and King Bimbisāra. When they got to the Ganges River, the boats sent to transport them were beautifully decorated. And as soon as the Buddha set foot on the other side of the river, there was a great thunderstorm, and the drought was over (!).

For some reason, the Buddha wanted to leave right away. But before he did he taught Ānanda the “Ratana Sutta: The Jewel Discourse” [SN 2.1]. Ānanda then walked through the city chanting it to ward off the evil spirits who were causing the continuing epidemic. Indeed, the cholera epidemic did end, although, as modern scholars point out, the ending of the drought was probably responsible. Still, the Ratana Sutta is one of many that purportedly has protective powers.

It is also likely that during this retreat the Buddha’s father Suddhodana died. The legendary story says that the Buddha saw that his father was dying and, using his magical powers, flew home to see him. But scholars generally agree that the Buddha did not go back to Kapilavattu until the next year. Most accounts say that Suddhodana did, however, become an arahant before he died.

(Dr. Andrew Olendzki has put together an interesting family tree of the Gotamas. His research indicates that the entire family was spiritually gifted, even before Siddhartha’s birth. So while the claim of Suddhodana’s awakening may seem a little fantastic, it is in keeping with what happened to many of those in the family.)

Subsequent to the fourth rains retreat the Buddha made his second visit to Sakya and his hometown in Kapilavattu. And on this trip an extremely significant set of events occurred. His mother Pajāpati asked to ordain as a nun, a “bhikkhunī.” She wanted the Buddha to establish the first order of monastics for women in the world.

The status of women during the Buddha’s life is a little difficult to determine. Most people agree that in earlier times, in both Vedic and post-Vedic India, women enjoyed a status that was probably unique in the ancient world. Women were educated. They were not required to marry. Marriages were monogamous. Widows were allowed to remarry. Women could earn money.

It was not perfect, of course. While practically speaking men and women were joint heads of the household, women could not inherit property. But in general women could flourish in economic matters, they could debate in public, and they could live full lives. Over time, all this changed.

By the time the sixth century BCE rolled around women were denied education. They had to be under the protection of a father, brother, or husband, or to a certain extent they were “fair game.” Polygamy was common. Girls could be married off prior to puberty. Widows could not remarry. Women in many cases had the same status as servants.

It was in this context that Pajāpati asked to ordain. Socially it was a complicated situation. A renunciate woman had, technically, no protection under the law. Renunciates lived on alms-food, and it was not clear that people would give alms-food to women, or recognize their status.

Reconstructing the role of women in Buddhism is also complicated because monks wrote most of the history of Buddhism. Many of them resented the ordination of women. And as Buddhism moved out of India into even more sexist societies, the bhikkhunīs often had difficulty getting support.

So Pajāpati’s situation was this. Her husband was dead and her two sons and her grandson were monks. The only other people at home were her daughter and her daughter-in-law. Most accounts say that the new rāja of Sakya was not a Gotama, so there was not any political connection. Therefore she turned to religion.

The Buddha was staying at the Banyan Monastery outside of Kapilavattu when Pajāpati approached him:

“Lord, it [would be] well [if] women should obtain the going forth from home into homelessness in this Dhamma and Discipline proclaimed by the Truth-finder.” - [Cv 10.1]

The Buddha responded:

“Be careful, Gotamī [Pajāpati], of the going forth of women from home into homelessness in this Dhamma and Discipline proclaimed by the Truth-finder.” - [Cv 10.1]

Two more times she asked, and twice more he responded in the same way.

I have read a number of translations of this passage. They differ a lot. H.W. Schumann says that the Buddha was “annoyed” by her request. But this particular translation does not indicate that the Buddha was annoyed, only that Pajāpati should “be careful.” I would also posit that it is not possible to annoy a Buddha. Thus I think this is a bit of editorializing.

The wording of the Buddha’s response requires careful attention. He simply told Pajāpati to “be careful.” He warned her that there would be problems and left it at that.

Nyanaponika Thera and Hellmuth Hecker make the same observation in their landmark work Great Disciples of the Buddha:

The whole incident was not meant to prevent the founding of the female branch of the Order, but only to strengthen by that hesitation the message that this brought great dangers with it.

- [Nyanaponika & Hecker, Great Disciples of the Buddha]

Thus, the Buddha did not ordain her. Pajāpati paid respect to the Buddha but left despondent and weeping.

Next the Buddha left Kapilavattu and went to Vesāli. Pajāpati, who was clearly determined to ordain, cut off her hair, donned the robes of a Buddhist monk, and followed him to Vesāli, accompanied by some other Sakyan women as well:

…in due course [she] approached Vesāli, the Great Grove, the Gabled Hall. Then the Gotamī, Pajāpati the Great, her feet swollen, her limbs covered with dust, with tearful face, and crying, stood outside the porch of the gateway. - [Cv 10.2]

Ānanda saw her, and asked her why she was standing outside the door with swollen feet, weeping. She said that it was because the Buddha “does not permit women to renounce their homes and enter the homeless state under the doctrine and discipline proclaimed by the Tathāgata.”

So the good-hearted Ānanda went to the Buddha to plead Pajāpati’s case. At first he was unsuccessful. As the story goes, he then took another tack:

“Are women, Lord, capable – when they have gone forth from the household life and entered the homeless state, under the doctrine and discipline proclaimed by the Blessed One – are they capable of realizing the fruit of conversion [stream-entry], or of the second path [once returner], or of the third path [non-returner], or of arahantship?”

“They are, Ānanda.”

“If then, Lord, they are capable thereof, since Māhā-pajapāpati the Gotamī has proved herself of great service to the Blessed One, when as aunt and nurse she nourished him and gave him milk, and on the death of his mother suckled the Blessed One at her own breast, it were well, Lord, that women should have permission to go forth from the household life and enter the homeless state, under the doctrine and discipline proclaimed by the Tathāgata.” - [Cv 10.3]

The Buddha did finally consent, but only if Pajāpati would agree to observe the “Eight Garudhammas” (heavy rules). These are:

1. A nun who has been ordained even for a hundred years must greet respectfully, rise up from her seat, salute with joined palms, and pay homage to a monk ordained but that day.

2. A nun must not spend the rains in a residence where there are no monks.

3. Every half month a nun should desire two things from the Order of Monks: the asking as to the date of the Uposatha day, and the coming for the exhortation (“bhikkhunovada”).

4. After the rains retreat a nun must “invite” before both orders in respect of three matters, namely what was seen, what was heard, what was suspected.

5. A nun, offending against an important rule, must undergo discipline for half a month before both orders.

6. When, as a probationer, she has trained in the “six rules” for two years, she should seek higher ordination from both orders.

7. A monk must not be abused or reviled in any way by a nun.

8. Admonition of monks by nuns is forbidden.

Pajāpati agreed to the rules, and she and 500 other Sakyan women ordained as bhikkhunīs. (In the idiomatic language of the Pāli Canon, “500” means “many.”)

The account goes on to say that if women had not ordained, the sāsana would have lasted 1,000 years, but now it would only last 500 years.

So the good news is that Pajāpati was able to ordain. You can imagine that ordaining women was pretty radical in the fifth century BCE.

The bad news is almost everything else.

As you might expect, bhikkhunīs had their problems with Indian society. The worst cases were rapes, which precipitated a number of rules in the bhikkhunī monastic code that required them to travel in ways that would keep them safe.

The problems were not limited, however, to the outside world. The ordination of women was greatly resented by the monks. Six months after the Buddha sanctioned bhikkhunī ordination, some monks “lifted up their robes to show their thighs to the nuns.” When the Buddha heard about this, he revised the rule requiring that bhikkhunīs always pay respect to monks. They were only required to pay respect to monks who deserved it.

The Buddha also added rules for the bhikkhus forbidding them from making the bhikkhunīs wash their robes and clean their huts. So, as Bhikkhunī Dhammānanda says, the bhikkhus were probably treating the bhikkhunīs the same way they would have treated women in Indian society. [Bhikkhunī Dhammānanda, “History of the Bhikkhunī Saṇgha”]

There is also evidence that the resentment of bhikkhunī ordination led to revisions in the account of how it came to be. Ajahn Anālayo has pointed out, for example, that there is a problem with the chronology:

There are many problems chronologically, however, in the traditional account of Mahaprājapati (from the Commentaries). She first requested ordination five years after Buddha’s enlightenment; but Ānanda, who requested Buddha on her behalf, only [became his attendant] twenty years after Buddha’s enlightenment. Considering that [Mahapajāpati], as Buddha’s maternal aunt, raised him after his mother’s death, she would have been about eighty years old when Ānanda was senior enough to make the request.

- [Ajahn Anālayo]

Many scholars argue that these eight rules came later. Bhante Sujato says that there are numerous textual problems, and that this cannot possibly be a factual account. For example:

The sixth gurudharma mentions śikṣamāṇās, who train for two years in preparation to become bhikkhunīs. It says that after a probationer has trained with a bhikkhunī for two years, that bhikkhunī preceptor has the responsibility to fully ordain her. However, when the Buddha ordained Mahapajāpati, probationer ordination did not exist. He ordained her directly as a bhikkhunī. This is one of the many textual errors in the garudhammas: the Buddha supposedly created one rule that requires probationer training which did not exist in the Buddha’s time.

– [Wikipedia, “The Eight Garudhammas”]

It also seems evident that Ānanda’s treatment of women was resented. While the above account may be wrong, there is other evidence that Ānanda was strongly on their side. He spent a lot of time instructing them, for example, and some monks complained to the Buddha that Ānanda was spending an inappropriate amount of time with the nuns.

And in one of the most obvious distortions in the Canon, Ānanda gets some pretty rude treatment in the suttas. The worst story involves the Buddha’s death, where Ānanda is basically accused of being responsible for the Buddha dying sooner than necessary [DN 16]. This is completely out of context with Ānanda’s character in the rest of the Canon. And since Ānanda is the person who is most responsible for the Sutta Pitaka, it is highly unlikely that he would have included this fabrication.

As for that 500-year prediction, we can clearly put that to rest. Even the account is textually suspect. The reference only occurs once, and it is the only instance in the Canon of a prophecy that gives a specific time. The sāsana has already been in existence for 2,500 years, give or take, so the statute of limitations has run out on that prediction.

The modern legal implications of this controversy will make your head swim. Ajahn Anālayo argues that they are not even rules. The Vinaya has categories of rules, of which the most severe is “defeat” (you must disrobe) and the least severe requires only confession. The Garudhammas, Anālayo argues, do not even fit into any of these categories, that they are simply recommendations:

In sum, the eight garudhammas are not rules whose breaking entails a punishment, they are instead recommendations. The description of each of these eight garudhammas in the Cullavagga indicates that they are something to be reserved, respected, honored and held in esteem. In short, a garudhamma is a “principle to be respected.”

- [Ajahn Anālayo, The Legacy of Bhikkhunī Ordination]

(I am taking this quote out of context. Ajahn Anālayo’s position on bhikkhunī ordination is stronger than appears here. He is a great champion of their cause.)

Unfortunately this is not just some ancient tale of gender discrimination. The bhikkhunī ordination in Southern (Theravāda) Buddhism died out. This was at least in part to the resistance that women faced in extremely sexist societies. They almost certainly received little or no support in many countries. The Order of Bhikkhunīs never even made it to Thailand.

So now, because of what are probably ancient distortions in the record, and possibly even complete fabrications, women today are struggling to ordain in the Theravāda tradition. The reason that the monks give is that bhikkhunī ordination requires existing bhikkhunīs. And since the Order of Bhikkhunīs died out in all the Theravāda countries there are no existing Theravāda bhikkhunīs and reviving the order is not possible.

There are, however, Mahāyāna nuns who use a Vinaya that is in the same lineage as Theravāda nuns. Thus the counter-argument is that these Mahāyāna nuns can legally ordain Theravāda nuns. However, many Theravāda monks do not recognize this ordination.

It seems clear that the traditional record on women’s ordination is ambiguous. What we do know, however, is that in an extremely gender-biased society, the Buddha agreed to ordain women. At first monks performed the ordinations, but very quickly the Buddha gave bhikkhunīs the authority to ordain women themselves.

There are also indications that the Buddha went to great lengths to protect the bhikkhunīs from the monks as well as Indian society. The bhikkhunīs have many more rules in their Vinaya, most of which are for their protection.

Here is a story that shows the extremes to which the Buddha went to promote fairness in the Saṇghas:

Nuns at the time of the Buddha had equal rights and an equal share in everything. In one case, eight robes were offered to both Saṇghas at a place where there was only one nun and four monks. The Buddha divided the robes in half, giving four to the nun and four to the monks, because the robes were for both Saṇghas and had to be divided equally however many were in each group. Because the nuns tended to receive fewer invitations to lay-people’s homes, the Buddha had all offerings brought to the monastery and equally divided between the two Saṇghas. He protected the nuns and was fair to both parties. They are subordinate in the sense of being younger sisters and elder brothers, not in the sense of being masters and slaves.

- [Bhikkhunī Dhammānanda, “The History of the Bhikkhunī Saṇgha”]

This account certainly speaks more to the character of the man we know as the Buddha.

In my 40 or so years working in the private and public sectors, one thing that I learned is this. When someone wants to keep something from happening, they find a way to keep it from happening, and when they want something to happen, they find a way to make it happen. Even in the legalistic world of Theravāda Buddhism prominent monks like Bhikkhu Bodhi, Ajahn Anālayo, Bhante Sujato, Ajahn Brahm (who was “excommunicated” from his Thai order for supporting bhikkhunī ordination), and others have shown a path to revive the Order of Bhikkhunīs in that tradition. It is simply a matter of will.

So my account of the history of bhikkhunī ordination is this. At a time when women were often treated as little more than servants, the Buddha created an Order of Bhikkhunīs. His stepmother and “500 other Sakyan women” ordained as Buddhist nuns. Subsequently the Buddha went to considerable lengths to treat them fairly and justly, to protect them, and to treat them as equals. This is how I understand the story buried beneath the gender-bias of monks and societies that did their best to suppress the Order. This is the Buddha that I know.

And at this point, the revival of the Theravāda Order of Bhikkhunīs is simply a matter of time. It is in the process of happening. I do not think that there is anything that can stop it. And it all began with one of the most courageous women in Buddhist history, Mahāpajāpati, the Great Pajāpati.

14. Kosambī

Perhaps the most colorful monastery in the Saṇgha was the one at Kosambī. You may recall that the Buddha went to Kosambī in the second year after his awakening and that a rich benefactor, Ghosita, gave land to the Saṇgha for a monastery.

Unfortunately, the words “colorful” and “monastery” should never be used in the same sentence together, and Kosambī would be the setting for a number of troublesome occasions.

By now the Saṇgha was well established. The Buddha had the support of the kings of the two largest realms in India. He had earned the favor of the people of Vesāli for ending their drought and an epidemic. And since he already had a monastery in Kosambī, it seemed that this was a likely place to go and further establish his influence.

But things did not go well. In fact, during the Buddha’s life, and even after, things never seemed to go well there. The King of Vaṃsa was antagonistic to religious affairs. This was further complicated by two of his wives, who had opposing views on religion. One of those wives was Sāmāvatī, who was a follower of the Buddha. Another was Māgandiyā, who opposed the Buddha. Sāmāvatī died in a fire, and later they discovered that Māgandiyā started the fire. I mean, you can’t make this stuff up.

Lacking the support of the King, the local Saṇgha was a mess. When the Buddha got to Kosambī, he found the monk Sāgatha dead drunk at the city gate [Pm 6.8]. This precipitated a new monastic rule prohibiting alcohol consumption.

But this was just the beginning.

One of the things that I love about the Pāli Canon is how honest the stories are. This is not some idealized version of reality crafted to make the Buddha seem invincible and perfect. This is real life. Of course, the majority of the Buddha’s followers were dedicated to a fault. The literature is full of inspirational stories about them. We have already met some of them: Pajāpati, Mallika, Ānanda, Sāriputta, Moggallāna, Anāthapiṇḍika, and Jīvaka. They may sound like ancient echoes from an exotic and distant past, but they are all-too-human models to which we can aspire.

But people are people, and that has not changed in 2500 years. And so it was at the Ghosita Monastery in Kosambī.

The long version of the following story appears in the “Upakkilesa Sutta: Imperfections” [MN 128]. In this sutta the story unfolds in three parts.

The Quarreling Monks

It all began innocently enough. One monk accused another of a minor offense having to do with leaving a lavatory water jar outside of the latrine without discarding the remaining water. The accused monk did not think that he had committed the offense [Mv 10]. This quickly escalated into a major conflict, with the monks at Ghosita dividing themselves into two factions. “…the bhikkhus at Kosambī had taken to quarrelling and brawling and were deep in disputes, stabbing each other with verbal daggers” [MN 128.2].

One bhikkhu went to the Buddha and asked him to intervene. The Buddha addressed the bhikkhus, asking them to end their quarrel. The reaction was not what you might expect. Instead of honoring their teacher’s request, they told him the fifth century BCE equivalent of “bugger off, old man”:

…a certain bhikkhu said to the Blessed One: “Wait, venerable sir! Let the Blessed One, the Lord of the Dhamma, live at ease devoted to a pleasant abiding here and now. We are the ones who will be responsible for this quarrelling, brawling, wrangling, and dispute.” - [MN 128.4]

The Buddha asked them two more times to end their quarreling, and twice more they told him not to worry his pretty little Buddha head with their affairs. The next morning after his alms round, the Buddha composed this verse:

“When many voices shout at once

None considers himself a fool;

Though the Saṇgha is being split

None thinks himself to be at fault.

“They have forgotten thoughtful speech,

They talk obsessed by words alone.

Uncurbed their mouths, they bawl at will;

None knows what leads him so to act.

“‘He abused me, he struck me,

He defeated me, he robbed me’—

In those who harbor thoughts like these

Hatred will never be allayed.

“‘He abused me, he struck me,

He defeated me, he robbed me.’

In those who do not harbor thoughts like these

Hatred will readily be allayed.

“For in this world hatred is never

Allayed by further acts of hate.

It is allayed by non-hatred:

That is the fixed and ageless law.”

- [MN 128.6]

Notice that the Buddha does not take up the issue of right and wrong. He simply makes clear the results of actions. For any conflict to end, the two sides must “bury the hatchet.” Any past offenses will never un-happen. The past is the past. The question becomes, how many more wrongs do you want to risk while you hold to your being right and the other person or country or religion being wrong? If you want peace and harmony, you have to let go of right and wrong. When you cling to right and wrong, you continue to rub an open sore.

Seeing that he could not influence the misbehaving monks, the Buddha left.

Blending Like Milk and Water

In the second part of the story the Buddha traveled to the Eastern Bamboo Park. His cousin Anuruddha (of “there-isn’t-any cakes” fame), who was now an arahant, and his companions Nandiya and Kimbila were staying at the park. As the Buddha approached, a “park ranger” stopped him. In a touching display of respect, the ranger, who did not know who the Buddha was, wanted to protect the solitude of the bhikkhus, and he told the Buddha that he should not enter. But Anuruddha saw the Buddha and said:

“Friend park keeper, do not keep the Blessed One out. It is our Teacher, the Blessed One, who has come.” Then the venerable Anuruddha went to the venerable Nandiya and the venerable Kimbila and said: “Come out, venerable sirs, come out! Our Teacher, the Blessed One, has come.” - [MN 128.9]

Note the gentle tone that Anuruddha used with the park keeper. He did not reprimand him and he was not harsh with him. He called him “friend park keeper.” This is the kind, gentle compassion of an arahant.

You can also feel Anuruddha’s excitement for this unexpected visit from the Buddha. India is a big place, and here the Buddha magically appeared. They quickly welcomed him, prepared a seat for him and washed his feet.

Having just come from the quarreling monks at Kosambī, the following passage is particularly moving. The Buddha asked Anuruddha if they were comfortable and able to get alms-food. Anuruddha replied that they were. The ensuing conversation is one of the most beautiful passages in the Pāli Canon:

“I hope, Anuruddha, that you are all living in concord, with mutual appreciation, without disputing, blending like milk and water, viewing each other with kindly eyes.”

“Surely, venerable sir, we are living in concord, with mutual appreciation, without disputing, blending like milk and water, viewing each other with kindly eyes.”

“But, Anuruddha, how do you live thus?”

“Venerable sir, as to that, I think thus: ‘It is a gain for me, it is a great gain for me that I am living with such companions in the holy life.’ I maintain bodily acts of loving-kindness towards these venerable ones both openly and privately; I maintain verbal acts of loving-kindness towards them both openly and privately; I maintain mental acts of loving-kindness towards them both openly and privately. I consider: ‘Why should I not set aside what I wish to do and do what these venerable ones wish to do?’ Then I set aside what I wish to do and do what these venerable ones wish to do. We are different in body, venerable sir, but one in mind.”

The venerable Nandiya and the venerable Kimbila each spoke likewise, adding: “That is how, venerable sir, we are living in concord, with mutual appreciation, without disputing, blending like milk and water, viewing each other with kindly eyes.”

“Good, good, Anuruddha. I hope that you all abide diligent, ardent, and resolute.”

“Surely, venerable sir, we abide diligent, ardent, and resolute.”

“But, Anuruddha, how do you abide thus?”

“Venerable sir, as to that, whichever of us returns first from the village with almsfood prepares the seats, sets out the water for drinking and for washing, and puts the refuse bucket in its place. Whichever of us returns last eats any food left over, if he wishes; otherwise he throws it away where there is no greenery or drops it into water where there is no life. He puts away the seats and the water for drinking and for washing. He puts away the refuse bucket after washing it, and he sweeps out the refectory. Whoever notices that the pots of water for drinking, washing, or the latrine are low or empty takes care of them. If they are too heavy for him, he calls someone else by a signal of the hand and they move it by joining hands, but because of this we do not break out into speech. But every five days we sit together all night discussing the Dhamma. That is how we abide diligent, ardent, and resolute.” - [MN 128.11-14]

The Buddha then gave a description of the night of his awakening. I suspect that for the bhikkhus who were there that night, this was an unforgettable occasion. It is why one goes forth into the homeless life. It is priceless, and no amount of worldly pleasure comes close.

The Lay People Speak

Now we come to the third and final part of the story.

A recurring theme in the Buddha’s teachings, particularly in the monastic code, is his understanding of the potential for religious people to abuse their power. This is one of the benefits of relying on alms-food. It prevents the monks from owning anything other than the most basic requisites. They are not even allowed to store food, or to ask for anything other than water. These measures may seem extreme to us, but given the vast history that shows the abuse of religious authority these rules are wise.

And this is where the example of the monks at Kosambī is instructive. It was the lay people who finally ended the dispute. They were so disgusted with the behavior of the monks, and particularly that the Buddha left, that they simply stopped giving them alms-food:

And the lay folk of Kosambī consulted together and said, “Surely these reverend Brothers of Kosambī have done us much harm; worried by them the Blessed One is gone away. We will neither offer salutation nor other marks of respect to them, nor give alms to them when they visit us. So they will depart, or return to the world, or will propitiate the Blessed One.” And they did so. And these Brethren overwhelmed by this form of punishment went to Sāvathī and begged forgiveness of the Blessed One.

- [Ja 428, Kosambī-Jātaka]

This is one of the responsibilities of lay Buddhists. When bhikkhus or bhikkhunīs misbehave, it is up to the lay people to deny them support. There might be a lesson in this for people who give donations to monks who deny women the ability to ordain.

This story has it all. First, there are monks who will not even listen to the Buddha. This is the way of the world, even for a Buddha.

Next we have the beautiful, poetic passage that describes the harmonious way in which Anuruddha and his companions lived, simply and selflessly in the holy life.

Then we have the lay people, who might usually be considered second-class Dharma citizens, making things right, getting the monks to correct the error of their ways.

The punchline to the story of Kosambī is that this monastery continued to have problems, and the Buddha never visited there again.

15. Singing for Your Supper

The quarrel at Kosambī happened at the end of the first ten years of the Buddha’s teaching. He was now 45 years old.

He accomplished a lot in that first decade. He established an order of monks, an order of nuns, he had the support of the two most important kings in India, he laid down his basic doctrine, his Dharma. There were many monasteries, the Vinaya was a substantial work, and he had many important lay supporters. However, to put Buddhism into perspective in its historical context, it was not yet the force that would spread across Asia. Buddhism was still just one of many players in the religious scene in India. It would not be for another 200 years or so before King Asoka made Buddhism the religion of choice in India.

Having said that, the popularity of a religion is not, I do not believe, a test of its substance. Inevitably something that becomes popular is less pure. It is an age-old tradeoff. If something becomes popular it, of course, can do more good. On the other hand, it also becomes less orthodox. You can see this today in the mindfulness and secular Buddhism movements in the West, both of which have excised significant parts of the Buddha’s teaching. One of the most orthodox Buddhist movements today, the Dhammayut (“Thai Forest”) Tradition, does not even pretend to want to be popular.

You can see how this evolved even in the Buddha’s own time. In the earliest days of the movement, there was no Vinaya because there was no need for one. But quickly the Buddha had to establish a code of conduct. Much later, after the Buddha died, the aging Ānanda lamented at the decline in the practice:

“The old ones now have passed away,

The new ones do no please me much,

Today alone I meditate

Like a bird gone to its nest.”

- [Thag 17.3.1036]

But one of the unique aspects of Buddhism is that it goes through periods of decay and revitalization. And when it reforms, it does so by reverting to its original, more orthodox form. Usually when something reforms, it adopts a different, “more modern” model. Buddhism, on the other hand, gets into trouble when it strays from the original teachings. In modern times, for example, there have been many disturbing incidents, such as sexual abuse by teachers, because the precepts were not observed.

In year 11 of the Buddha’s teaching, the Buddha spent most of his time near Magadha, close to the village of Gaya. In the spring the Buddha was on alms rounds when a brahmin named Bhāradvāja was supervising 500 (that number again…) ploughmen who were tilling the soil. Bhāradvāja was distributing food to the workers when the Buddha approached him. But Bhāradvāja refused to give the Buddha food, saying that he worked for his food:

“Recluse, I plough and sow, and when I have ploughed and sown I eat. You too, ascetic, ought to plough and sow; then, when you have ploughed and sown, you will eat.” - [SN 7.II.1]

The Buddha replied:

“I too, brahmin, plough and sow, and when I have ploughed and sown I eat.”

But Bhāradvāja was having none of the Buddha’s metaphor, and challenged him:

“But we do not see Master Gotama’s yoke or plough or ploughshare or goad or oxen; yet Master Gotama says, ‘I too, brahmin, plough and sow, and when I have ploughed and sown I eat.’”
…
“You claim to be a man who works the plough,

But I do not see your ploughing.

If you’re a ploughman, answer me:

How should we understand your ploughing?”

[The Blessed One:]

“Faith is the seed, austerity the rain,

Wisdom my yoke and plough;

Shame is the pole, mind the yoke-tie,

Mindfulness my ploughshare and goad.

“Guarded in body, guarded in speech,

Controlled in my appetite for food,

I use truth as my weeding-hook,

And gentleness as my unyoking.

“Energy is my beast of burden,

Carrying me to security from bondage.

It goes ahead without stopping

To where, having gone, one does not sorrow.

“In such a way this ploughing is done

Which has the Deathless as its fruit.

Having finished this work of ploughing,

One is released from all suffering.”

- [SN 7.II.1.662-666]

This is reminiscent of Jesus’ exhortation to the fishermen Simon and Andrew when he said, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men” [King James Bible, Mark 1:17].

What happened next is instructive. Bhāradvāja offered the Buddha a bowl of milk-rice. But the Buddha refused, saying:

“Food over which verses have been sung

Is not fit to be eaten by me.

This, brahmin, is not the principle

Observed by those who see.

“The Enlightened Ones reject such food

Over which verses have been sung.

As such a principle exists, O brahmin,

This is their rule of conduct.” - [SN 7.II.1.667-668]

In other words, it is inappropriate for a Buddha to “sing for his supper,” or, in more conventional terms, to receive payment for teaching.

This is in stark contrast to the Dharma economy in the West today. Going to a retreat can be quite expensive. You are usually told that the “teachings are offered freely.” But when you have already paid for the retreat, then they ask you for a donation to pay the teacher, and then another donation for the retreat center, then another for a scholarship program, it certainly does not feel like the teachings are offered freely. Most of the teachers are not even monastics. This compares poorly to the Buddha’s refusal here to accept a modest bowl of alms-food.

The story has one final element, and that is that Bhāradvāja, who was now stuck with a bowl of milk-rice, asked the Buddha what to do with it. The Buddha said that this food, having been offered to him, should not go to anyone else, and that Bhāradvāja should dispose of it “where there are no living beings.” Bhāradvāja poured it into some “water where there is no life.” And as soon as he did this, the water “sizzled and fumed and steamed.” Bhāradvāja was “shocked and terrified” by this, and he approached the Buddha who said these verses:

“When kindling wood, brahmin, do not imagine

This external deed brings purity;

For experts say no purity is gained

By one who seeks it outwardly.

“Having given up the fire made from wood,

I kindle, O brahmin, the inner light alone.

Always ablaze, my mind always concentrated,

I am an arahant living the holy life.

“Conceit, O brahmin, is your shoulder-load,

Anger the smoke, false speech the ashes;

The tongue is the ladle, the heart the altar,

A well-tamed self is the light of a man.

“The Dhamma is a lake with fords of virtue —

Limpid, praised by the good to the good —

Where the knowledge-masters go to bathe,

And, dry-limbed, cross to the far shore.

“Truth, Dhamma, restraint, the holy life,

Attainment of Brahmā based on the middle:

Pay homage, O brahmin, to the upright ones;

I call that person one impelled by Dhamma.”

- [SN 7.I.9.643-647]

Bhāradvāja was impressed. He eventually ordained as a monk and became an arahant [SN 7.I.9].

But it was not all a smooth path for the Saṇgha. The Vinaya reports that there was a famine in Verañja that year. This is where the Buddha spent the rains retreat. The monks often returned from their alms rounds with no food. The people were issued “food tickets” (ration coupons). Fortunately there were some horse traders passing through. They had some very poor quality grain, possibly bran. The monks ground it up using a mortar and pestle to make gruel [Sv I.1.9]. Famine is a recurring problem in the history of the Saṇgha.

It is at this time that the Buddha’s son Rāhula reappears in the story. He was about 18 years old. Poor Rāhula. He had grown up in the Saṇgha, and it could not have been easy being the Buddha’s son. He was young and somewhat vain about his appearance. One day when he was leaving on alms rounds the Buddha reprimanded him for this. The crushed Rāhula said:

“Who would go into the town for alms today when personally admonished by the Blessed One?” Thus he turned back and sat down at the root of a tree, folding his legs crosswise, setting his body erect, and establishing mindfulness in front of him. - [MN 62.4]

But to his credit, that evening he went to the Buddha and asked him how to develop mindfulness of breathing. The Buddha gave him a teaching designed to help Rāhula loosen the attachment to his body.

The Buddha had this problem with a lot of his monks. Many of them were young, and so he taught specific meditations to help loosen the attachment to the body. The two most common ones are the “32 parts of the body” and the “four elements.” In this case, the Buddha taught Rāhula to look at the body as basic elements and their qualities: the earth element (solidity), the water element (fluid), the fire element (heat and cold), and the air element (the breath and movement). These are the four great elements. He also added the “space” element, which is everything else.

He went on to teach about the quality of equanimity, the ability to stay calm and even-keeled.

“Rāhula, develop meditation that is like the earth; for when you develop meditation that is like the earth, arisen agreeable and disagreeable contacts will not invade your mind and remain. Just as people throw clean things and dirty things, excrement, urine, spittle, pus, and blood on the earth, and the earth is not repelled, humiliated, and disgusted because of that, so too, Rāhula, develop meditation that is like the earth; for when you develop meditation that is like the earth, arisen agreeable and disagreeable contacts will not invade your mind and remain.” - [MN 62.13]

He went on to use the same metaphor for the water, fire, air, and space. Next he taught the brahma viharas (“noble abidings”): loving-kindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity. And finally he taught the 16 contemplations of Ānāpānasati, mindfulness of breathing.

It is interesting to see how the Buddha taught in different circumstances. In the first two years after his awakening, he taught the “gradual discourse,” leaving out the Four Noble Truths for people who were not ready for it. In most of the earliest incidents, he taught the Four Noble Truths to anyone who was ripe for awakening, from which they would deduce the Buddhist law of conditionality (dependent co-arising), and this led to their becoming arahants.

In this case, however, the Buddha had a young monk who suffered from attachment to his body. So he began by teaching a meditation about the body’s elemental nature. Then he taught the brahma viharas, and then mindfulness of breathing. The beginning steps in mindfulness of breathing are designed to calm the body, to bring it to a place of serenity. For people who suffer from aversion, this is a good way to begin. But here the Buddha wanted Rāhula to become dispassionate about his body, and after that to develop serenity. If he developed serenity first it might actually increase his bodily attachment.

The question a meditator must always ask is, “What is the current state of mind?” Then you look at the different contemplations that the Buddha taught, and find the appropriate one. If you suffer from bodily attachment, meditations such as the 32 body parts and the elements help reduce that. But if you suffer from aversion, you use breath meditation to cultivate serenity, or do metta (loving-kindness) meditation, or both. Knowing the current state of mind and the appropriate meditation to use are part of the skill of becoming an accomplished meditator.

Rāhula did become an arahant just two years later [MN 147]. And all’s well that ends well, as you can see in Rāhula’s poem from the Theragāthā:

I am known as “Fortunate Rāhula,”

Because I’m endowed in both ways:

I am the son of the Buddha,

And I have the vision of the Dhammas.

Since my defilements have ended,

Since there is no more being reborn in any state of existence —

I’m an arahant, worthy of offerings,

With the three knowledges and the vision of the deathless.

Blinded by sensual pleasures, trapped in a net,

They are smothered over by craving,

Bound by the Kinsman of the Negligent,

Like a fish caught in a funnel-net trap.

Having thrown off those sensual pleasures,

Having cut Māra’s bond,

Having pulled out craving, roots and all:

I’ve become cool, and realized nibbāna.

- [Thag 4.8]

16. Visākhā

We have already met some of the important women of the Buddha’s time, most notably Queen Mallika and his stepmother, Pajāpati. His greatest female benefactor was “Visākhā Migāramātā.” (“Migāramātā” means “Migāra’s mother.”) In the Aṇguttara Nikāya the Buddha said, “…the foremost of my female followers among donors is Visākhā Migāramātā” [AN 1.259].

In the Dhammapada the Buddha said these words about Visākhā:

“As from a collection of flowers

Many a garland can be made by an expert florist,

So also, much good can be done

By one subject to birth and death.”

- [Dhp 53]

The Dhammapada Commentary (Dhammapada-aṭṭhakathā) gives the back-story to this verse.

Visākhā was the granddaughter of one of the richest men in Magadha. When she was seven years old her grandfather took her to meet the Buddha. According to the story, she immediately attained stream-entry.

She grew up into a very beautiful young woman, and when she came of age she married the son of a rich merchant. After the marriage, Visākhā moved to Sāvathī where her husband’s family lived. But as life tends to be, there were some bumps in the road.

Visākhā‘s father-in-law was “Migāra.” He was a supporter of a sect of Jains. When they found out that Migāra’s daughter-in-law supported the Buddha, they asked him to kick her out. He did not do this, but Migāra never invited the Buddha or the monks into his house.

Migāra was a difficult and stingy man. One day a samaṇa came to the house for alms-food, but Migāra ignored him and continued to eat. Visākhā, who was watching all this, turned to the monk and said, “Pass on, Venerable Sir, my father-in-law eats stale food (leftovers)”:

On hearing this, Migāra flew into a rage and told her to leave his house. But Visākhā said she was not going away, and that she would send for the eight elderly rich men who were sent by her father to accompany her and to advise her. It was for them to decide whether she was guilty or not.

When the elders came, Migāra said to them, “While I was having my rice-with-milk in a golden bowl, Visākhā said that I was taking only dirt and filth. For this offense, I’m sending her away.”

Thereupon, Visākhā explained as follows: “When I saw my father-in-law completely ignoring the bhikkhu standing for alms-food, I thought to myself that my father-in-law was not doing any meritorious deed in this existence. He was only eating the fruits of his past good deeds. So, I said, ‘My father-in-law only eats leftovers.’”

“Now Sirs, what do you think, am I guilty?”

The elders decided that Visākhā was not guilty.

Visākhā then said that she was one who had absolute and unshakable faith in the Teaching of the Buddha and so could not stay where the bhikkhus were not welcome; and also, that if she was not given permission to invite the bhikkhus to the house to offer alms-food and make other offerings, she would leave the house. So permission was granted to her to invite the Buddha and his bhikkhus to the house.

- [DhpA 4.8, Commentary to Dhp 53]

So now Visākhā turned the tables on her father-in-law and threatened to leave, taking her substantial dowry with her. Money talks.

Migāra did allow Visākhā to invite the Buddha and his monks for a meal. After the meal, the Buddha gave a discourse. Migāra hid behind a curtain while all this was going on. But after the discourse, miserly old Migāra was so impressed by the Buddha and the character of his daughter-in-law that he humbly asked her to accept him as her son, and this is why she was called “Migāramātā,” mother of Migāra.

Visākhā became very influential in the Saṇgha. There are a number of rules in the Vinaya for which Visākhā is responsible. There is a testy exchange between her and with some monks who refuse to ordain anyone during the rainy season. Among others, her grandson wanted to ordain. When the monks went to the Buddha he agreed with Visākhā, and issued a new rule requiring them to give novice ordinations during the rainy season [Mv 3.13]. Visākhā was clearly no shrinking violet, even when taking on senior monks.

(I think that the reason the monks thought it was inappropriate to ordain someone during the rains’ retreat is that a monk’s “age” in the Saṇgha is determined by how many rains’ retreats he has attended. If you are ordained during a rains’ retreat your monk’s age might be ambiguous.)

She later asked the Buddha for eight boons:

“I desire, Lord, my life long to 1) bestow robes for the rainy season on the Saṇgha, and 2) food for in-coming Bhikkhus, and 3) food for out-going Bhikkhus, and 4) food for the sick, and 5) food for those who wait upon the sick, and 6) medicine for the sick, and a 7) constant supply of conjey [rice gruel], and 8) bathing robes for the nuns.” - [Mv 8.15]

Visākhā’s greatest financial gift to the Saṇgha was a large, second park in Sāvathī, “Pubbarama” (“Eastern Park”). She built a monastery there called “Migāramātupāsāda” (“Migāra’s mother’s palace”). The Buddha eventually spent six rains retreats at Migāramātupāsāda. He gave some important discourses there, including his most detailed instructions on meditation, “Ānāpānasati: Mindfulness of Breathing” [MN 118]. (These are the same instructions that he gave to Rāhula but in expanded form.) And it seems clear from the texts that Visākhā was a favorite of the Buddha’s.

The story of the funding of Migāramātupāsāda is particularly charming. Visākhā once visited Jetavana monastery wearing an elaborate jeweled cloak. Upon leaving the monastery she forgot to take it with her:

Visākhā possessed an immensely valuable gem-encrusted cloak given by her father as a wedding present. One day, Visākhā went to the Jetavana monastery with her entourage. On arrival at the monastery, she found that her bejeweled cloak was too heavy. So, she took it off, wrapped it up in her shawl, and gave it to the maid to hold it and take care of it. The maid absentmindedly left it at the monastery.

It was the custom for the Venerable Ānanda to look after the things left by any one of the lay disciples. Visākhā sent the maid back to the monastery saying, “Go and look for the bejeweled cloak, but if the Venerable Ānanda had already found it and kept it in a place do not bring it back; I donate the bejeweled cloak to the Venerable Ānanda.”

But the Venerable Ānanda did not accept her donation. So Visākhā decided to sell the bejeweled cloak and donate the sale proceeds. But there was no one who could afford to buy that bejeweled cloak. So Visākhā bought it back [and] with this money, she built a monastery on the eastern side of the city.

- [DhpA 4.8, Commentary to Dhp 53]

There are many stories about Visākhā in the Pāli Canon. She was feisty and independent, loving and compassionate, fiercely loyal to the Buddha, and a devoted lay practitioner.

Figure: Stupa of Visākhā (where her ashes are buried) in Sāvathī

17. Aṇgulimāla, The Murderer

One of the most compelling and instructive stories from the Buddha’s time is that of Aṇgulimāla.

The name “Aṇgulimāla” means “finger necklace.” He was called this because he was a serial killer, and when he killed someone, he cut off a finger and put it on a necklace, or “garland,” that he wore around his neck.

Aṇgulimāla was born into wealth and privilege. His father was a brahmin chaplain to the king of Kosala. When Aṇgulimāla was born, his father did his horoscope, and to his horror, it predicted that Aṇgulimāla would lead a life of crime. To try and counteract this prediction, the baby was named “Ahiṃsaka,” which means “harmless.”

When he was of age Ahiṃsaka was sent to the university at Takkasīla, the same one where King Pasenadi was educated. He was such a gifted student that the greatest teacher at the university took him under his wing. Ahiṃsaka was not only gifted academically, he was humble and considerate to his teacher, and that earned him great favor.

Unfortunately, being the teacher’s pet did not go over well with the other students. They conspired to undermine him. One by one they went to the teacher and told terrible stories about him, including one that said Ahiṃsaka was trying to have the teacher thrown out of the university. And as we know all too well from history, it is about the big lie. If you say it often enough and loud enough, people will believe it. And that is what happened to Ahiṃsaka. His teacher finally believed the terrible stories and decided to come up with a way to kill Ahiṃsaka without casting suspicion on himself.

It was a custom in those days for a student to give his teacher a gift at graduation. So the teacher told Ahiṃsaka that he must bring a necklace with 1,000 fingers cut from the right hands of people he killed. You can imagine Ahiṃsaka’s reaction. He said that his family had always been peaceful people. But the teacher insisted, telling Ahiṃsaka that if he did not do this he would “receive no benefit from his education.”

The teacher apparently hoped that Ahiṃsaka would be killed by one of his intended victims. But Ahiṃsaka was strong and athletic, and he proved to be very good at killing. He also received help from his mother who hid him from the authorities. Thus, the peaceful Ahiṃsaka turned into the cold-blooded killer Aṇgulimāla.

(This story is found in the commentary to the Majjhima Nikāya, the Papañcasudani, which is also called the Majjhima-nikayaṭṭhakathā. There is no English translation for the Papañcasudani so I am relying on the book The Great Disciples of the Buddha for this portion of the story.)

One day the Buddha set out on a road where he knew Aṇgulimāla was hiding. The people warned him not to go there. But apparently this was, in fact, the Buddha’s intention.

When Aṇgulimāla saw the Buddha, he got very excited. This would be easy prey:

“Men have come along this road in groups of ten, twenty, thirty, and even forty, but still they have fallen into my hands. But now this recluse comes alone, unaccompanied, as if forcing his way. Why shouldn’t I take this recluse’s life?” Aṇgulimāla then took up his sword and shield, buckled on his bow and quiver, and followed close behind the Blessed One.” - [MN 86.4]

According to the account, Aṇgulimāla started to run after the Buddha. But no matter how fast he ran, Aṇgulimāla could not catch him. The Buddha was performing a “feat of supernormal power” to keep away from him.

Finally, they both stopped running. The Buddha turned to Aṇgulimāla and said simply:

“I have stopped, Aṇgulimāla, you stop too.” - [MN 86.5]

Aṇgulimāla replied in verse:

“While you are walking, recluse, you tell me you have stopped;

But now, when I have stopped, you say I have not stopped.

I ask you now, O recluse, about the meaning:

How is it that you have stopped and I have not?”

- [MN 86.6]

To which the Buddha replied:

“Aṇgulimāla, I have stopped forever,

I abstain from violence towards living beings;

But you have no restraint towards things that live:

That is why I have stopped and you have not.”

- [MN 86.6]

This is an interesting passage in that in the Buddha’s system of meditation, awakening comes when the process of mental fabrication ends. In the chain of dependent co-arising, the first two stages are ignorance (“avijja”) and mental fabrication (“saṇkhāra”). Upon awakening ignorance is extinguished, thus breaking the chain. The Buddha, having broken the chain, “stopped forever.” The Buddha was no longer capable of doing harm.

The Buddha made a strong impression on Aṇgulimāla, and in an act that seems somehow simpler than is probable, he decided to become a monk. Of course, if you look at Aṇgulimāla’s history, it is a little more believable. In a country where custom and respect are everything, he was coerced into this terrible life. He was very intelligent, and apparently had a gentle nature. So perhaps his conversion to a disciple of the Buddha is understandable.

On the other hand, you can imagine that the people in Kosala were not so forgiving. When the Buddha traveled to Sāvathī with Aṇgulimāla as his attendant, there was an uproar. The people went to King Pasenadi and told him that Aṇgulimāla was in the city. This prompted King Pasenadi to put together a posse of 500 men, and he set out for the park. When the Buddha saw the large assembly, he asked King Pasenadi if Kosala was under attack. The King told the Buddha that he was looking for the “murderous, merciless” Aṇgulimāla. What followed is this exchange:

“Great King, suppose you were to see that Aṇgulimāla had shaved off his hair and beard, put on the yellow robe, and gone forth from the home life into homelessness; that he was abstaining from killing living beings, from taking what is not given and from false speech; that he was eating only one meal a day, and was celibate, virtuous, of good character. If you were to see him thus, how would you treat him?”

“Venerable sir, we would pay homage to him, or rise up for him, or invite him to be seated; or we would invite him to accept robes, almsfood, a resting place, or medicinal requisites; or we would arrange for him lawful guarding, defense, and protection. But, venerable sir, how could such an immoral man, one of evil character, ever have such virtue and restraint?”

Now on that occasion the venerable Aṇgulimāla was sitting not far from the Blessed One. Then the Blessed One extended his right arm and said to King Pasenadi of Kosala: “Great King, this is Aṇgulimāla.”

Then King Pasenadi was frightened, alarmed, and terrified. Knowing this, the Blessed One told him: “Do not be afraid, great king, do not be afraid. There is nothing for you to fear from him.” - [MN 86.11-12]

The King, after being convinced that this really was Aṇgulimāla, agreed to support and respect him as a monk. And of course he was amazed by the Buddha’s ability to convert the criminal:

“It is wonderful, venerable sir, it is marvelous how the Blessed One tames the untamed, brings peace to the unpeaceful, and leads to nibbāna those who have not attained nibbāna. Venerable sir, we ourselves could not tame him with force and weapons, yet the Blessed One has tamed him without force or weapons.”

The next day Aṇgulimāla went on alms round, and he saw a woman in labor. She was having a difficult time, and she was in a great deal of pain. When Aṇgulimāla returned to the park he told the Buddha what he had seen:

“When I saw [the woman in labor], I thought: ‘How beings are afflicted! Indeed, how beings are afflicted!’” - [MN 86.14]

The Buddha responded with this:

“In that case, Aṇgulimāla, go into Sāvatthī and say to that woman: ‘Sister, since I was born, I do not recall that I have ever intentionally deprived a living being of life. By this truth, may you be well and may your infant be well!’” - [MN 86.15]

Aṇgulimāla was justifiably confused:

“Venerable sir, wouldn’t I be telling a deliberate lie, for I have intentionally deprived many living beings of life?”

“Then, Aṇgulimāla, go into Sāvatthī and say to that woman: ‘Sister, since I was born with the noble birth, I do not recall that I have ever intentionally deprived a living being of life. By this truth, may you be well and may your infant be well!’” - [MN 86.15]

I am sure that you can see that the key phrase here is “since I was born with the noble birth.” Thus we have the world’s first born again Buddhist.

Aṇgulimāla did as he was told, and the woman and her baby got well. To this day Aṇgulimāla is a kind of patron saint of pregnant women in the Buddhist world.

Aṇgulimāla did become an arahant. But he was never completely free from what he had done. Imagine if this happened in modern times. It is impossible to think that becoming a priest or a monk would shield someone from going to prison or even getting the death penalty. And the story of Aṇgulimāla is one reason Buddhism has historically been opposed to the death penalty. In Buddhism changing the course of your life is always possible.

One day when Aṇgulimāla was on alms round people started throwing things at him:

Now on that occasion someone threw a clod and hit the venerable Aṇgulimāla’s body, someone else threw a stick and hit his body, and someone else threw a potsherd and hit his body. Then, with blood running from his cut head, with his bowl broken, and with his outer robe torn, the venerable Aṇgulimāla went to the Blessed One. The Blessed One saw him coming in the distance and told him: “Bear it, brahmin! Bear it, brahmin! You are experiencing here and now the result of deeds because of which you might have been tortured in hell for many years, for many hundreds of years, for many thousands of years.” - [MN 86.17]

This is a story that shows that the Buddha’s teaching on karma is not deterministic. If it was, Aṇgulimāla could not have become an arahant. What happened in the past brings you to a certain point in life. But it is the choices that you make in the present moment that determine the outcome. On the other hand, if you killed a bunch of people, you can’t just walk away from it either.

Buddhist meditation programs in prisons have been quite successful. The story of Aṇgulimāla is one reason why. It is one of the iconic stories in Buddhism. And one thing you do not have trouble convincing anyone in prison about is the First Noble Truth, that in any human life there is suffering. Sometimes people like to delude themselves into believing that this is not true, that “life is good.” To be sure, it is sometimes. There is no denying that. But the problem is the “sometimes.” It is all based on circumstances that can always change. We believe that if life is OK now, it will be that way forever.

But for someone serving time, that delusion does not exist. And one of the messages of Buddhism is that your future is in your hands. It is empowering in that way. So if your life is harsh, you can start now, with this breath, making it better, and doing so in a way that a comfortable life never can. And no one can take away the lessons that you get from a serious Buddhist practice. The only thing it costs you is effort.

According to the accounts, Aṇgulimāla died soon afterwards. H.W. Schumann speculates that this may have been from another attack. But he had become an arahant, free from suffering and the rounds of rebirth. It was quite a turnaround. And it is instructive that after Aṇgulimāla became an arahant, he composed a poem that emphasizes individual choice:

So welcome to that choice of mine

And let it stand, it was not ill made;

Of all the teachings resorted to,

I have come to the very best.

So welcome to that choice of mine

And let it stand, it was not ill made;

I have attained the triple knowledge

And done all that the Buddha teaches.

- [MN 86.18]

The Buddha could not save Aṇgulimāla; that is a choice that Aṇgulimāla had to make. The Buddha was not a god or a savior. He was a guide pointing the way. But we have to walk the path.

Figure: Aṇgulimāla’s stupa in Sāvathī, also known as “Pakki Kuti”

Aṇgulimāla’s conversion greatly enhanced the Buddha’s reputation. This, in turn, earned him the jealousy of other samaṇa. So members of the competing sects conspired to discredit him. They enlisted the aid of a beautiful young woman. Her name was “Sundarī.”

Sundarī started telling people that she was spending her nights with the Buddha. She really did it up, too. She dressed beautifully, used perfume, and wore garlands of flowers. In the morning she made sure that she was seen returning from Jetavana, and she always told people that she had spent another beautiful night with the Buddha. We have the big lie at work, once again.

After a while, to discredit the Buddha even more, the conspirators hired some thugs to kill Sundarī. After they killed her, they paraded her body through the city, saying that the Buddha’s monks had killed her to cover up the affair. But the Buddha remained calm, and told his monks to recite the following verse:

“Those who assert what is not true go to hell,

As do those who deny what they’ve done.

Both these people of base deeds become equal

After death, in the world beyond.”

- [Dhp 306]

According to the Dhammapada-aṭṭhakathā, this is what happened next:

The King sent his men into the city to investigate, and they overheard the thugs, who had become drunk, arguing about who had murdered Sundarī, and who deserved the most money. They arrested the thugs, and took them to the King’s court, where they confessed that they had been hired by the followers of other sects. The ascetics were punished for the crime of murder, and the gain and honor accorded to the Buddha and his disciples increased all the more.

- [DhpA, Commentary to Verse 306]

18. Ānanda

Aṇgulimāla’s conversion happened at the end of the second decade of the Buddha’s teaching career. Two other significant things happened at that time as well.

The first is that after 20 years of spending the rains retreats at different locations, the Buddha spent the next 24 years at Sāvathī. He spent 18 of those retreats at Jetavana, and the other 6 at Pubbarama, although presumably he went back and forth between the two.

It is an interesting choice. Jetavana was in Kosala. The Buddha had more support from King Bimbisāra, who was in Magadha. Magadha was a larger city and the capital of a larger kingdom. But whether it was his relationships with Anāthapiṇḍika, Visākhā, and Queen Mallika, or that the facilities were simply better, Sāvathī was his rains retreat place of choice.

Figure: Where the Buddha spent his 45 rains retreats [BvA]

The second thing that happened was that he made his cousin, Ānanda, his personal attendant. Ānanda would be at the Buddha’s side for the next 25 years.

Ānanda is one of only two monks on whom the Buddha bestowed a title. The Buddha called Ānanda the “Guardian of the Dharma.” (The other was Sarīputta, to whom the Buddha gave the title “Marshall of the Dharma.”)

As you may recall, Ānanda left Kapilavattu with some other Sakyans - Anuruddha, Bhadrika, Bhrigu, Kimbala, Devadatta, and Upāli - after the Buddha first visited Kapilavattu in the second year after his awakening. Except for Upāli they were all related to the Buddha.

We probably know more about Ānanda than anyone else from that time. There are a number of reasons for this. First, as for the arahants, their personalities do not have a lot of breadth or depth. Arahants are not neurotic, so they are not very complicated. Ānanda, being just (!) a stream-enterer, still had some issues to work through.

Second, Ānanda had a remarkable memory. He could “listen to a discourse of 60,000 words” and recite it back perfectly, and by the time the Pāli Canon was formalized, Ānanda had memorized all “84,000 stanzas.” (The tradition holds that there are 82,000 “dhammakkhandhas,” or “Dharma teachings,” 82,000 of which the Buddha gave while 2,000 were given by others. As usual, these numbers are probably approximate.)

This may sound fantastic to a Western mind, but India was an oral tradition. People grew up in an environment where everything was memorized. And even now there are monks in Burma who have memorized the whole Canon.

We even have a relatively recent example in the United States.

During the 1970’s there was an extraordinary event in the U.S. Congress, the Watergate hearings. The hearings devoted one entire week to the testimony of John Dean, the former White House counsel. When the Nixon White House fired Dean, they did not allow him to take any of his personal papers, calendars, files, or notes with him, so he gave his entire testimony from memory. During an amazing week of cross-examination, Dean detailed meetings, dates, times, and precise conversations. It was hard to believe that anyone could remember such detail from events that happened years earlier without so much as a calendar. One journalist said that Dean was either a genius or the greatest liar in history. About a year after his testimony, investigators discovered the Watergate tapes at the White House. The tapes vindicated Dean. His memory had been spot on. It is a freakish ability, but apparently both John Dean and Ānanda had it.

In the discourse “Foremost,” the Buddha said that Ānanda was foremost among his monks in five qualities:

“Bhikkhus, the foremost of my bhikkhu disciples among those who are learned is Ānanda.”

“Bhikkhus, the foremost of my bhikkhu disciples among those with good memory is Ānanda.”

“Bhikkhus, the foremost of my bhikkhu disciples among those with a quick grasp is Ānanda.”

“Bhikkhus, the foremost of my bhikkhu disciples among those who are resolute is Ānanda.”

“Bhikkhus, the foremost of my bhikkhu disciples among personal attendants is Ānanda.” - [AN 73.219-223]

No other disciple of the Buddha was listed as being foremost in more than two categories.

Ānanda’s extraordinary memory brings up a point about a much-abused word in Buddhism, “mindfulness.” It has come to mean something like “attention.” But the Pāli word for “attention” is “manasikāra.” The Pāli word that we translate as “mindfulness” is “sati.” “Sati” means “to recollect,” or “to remember.” In English we do not have a good word to render the Pāli term “sati.” So in the nineteenth century when T.W. Rhys-Davids was looking for an equivalent term he borrowed the word “mindful” from the English catechism:

Rhys Davids’ choice was apparently inspired by the phrasing of the Anglican prayer to be ever mindful of the needs of others — i.e., to always keep their needs in mind.

- [Ṭhānissaro Bhikkhu, Right Mindfulness]

But you can perhaps see the true meaning of the word “sati” here. It means bringing all of your knowledge and wisdom to bear on the present moment. Buddhist practice is a skill, like weaving or carpentry. When a craftsperson is working on a project, at any given moment they are bringing to bear their knowledge and skill to the current task. A big part of a monk’s training was memorizing the suttas. The theory of the suttas was then put into practice through actions, whether in meditation or conduct. It is like reading a book about surgery, and then actually learning how to do surgery.

Today we do not practice in this way, and meditation is often taught as something quite passive, i.e. “being with whatever arises.” But this is not what the Buddha taught. Being familiar with the suttas and the Vinaya provides a foundation of “right understanding,” which is the first step in the Noble Eightfold Path. The suttas and the Vinaya are the instruction book used to train the mind, by cultivating the Seven Factors of Awakening and abandoning the Five Hindrances.

In modern times I do not think this means that you have to start memorizing the suttas to practice. But it is very unfortunate that almost no meditation teachers, much less their students, have read even a single volume of the Pāli Canon.

In the canonical literature, when you read the words “Thus have I heard,” it is Ānanda speaking. In many discourses Ānanda is the one asking questions of the Buddha. In this way, Ānanda becomes our proxy. The things we would want to know if the Buddha were here are the things about which Ānanda is asking.

So we have this extraordinary monk, someone who spent almost 25 years with the Buddha, who is mildly flawed in a way that had him asking questions, probing, still working at attaining the final goal, and thus revealing a great deal about the Buddha’s discovery. And because of Ānanda’s memory, he became a walking encyclopedia of the Buddha’s discourses.

Ānanda attained stream-entry during his first rains retreat [Vin 2.183], but he did not become an arahant until after the Buddha died. In retrospect this seems curious with so many other people attaining full awakening, it seems, almost instantly. It is not clear why it took him so long. There is at least the implication in the Canon that Ānanda was so devoted to his job as the Buddha’s attendant that his own practice suffered.

Although Ānanda was “merely” a stream-enterer, his conduct as a monk was exemplary. The Buddha praised him frequently. Once Ānanda and King Pasenadi discussed “proper conduct.” Later Ānanda told the Buddha about this exchange, whereupon the Buddha gathered the monks together and told them:

“It is a gain, bhikkhus, for King Pasenadi of Kosala, it is a great gain for King Pasenadi of Kosala that he has had the opportunity of seeing and paying respect to Ānanda.” - [MN 88.22]

But these are not the qualities that led the Buddha to make Ānanda his attendant. Ānanda was unusually skilled as a chief of staff. One reason that Ānanda may not have become an arahant for such a long time is that he devoted his energy solely to caring for the Buddha and running the Saṇgha. It was a full-time job.

The story of how Ānanda became the Buddha’s attendant is instructive.

The Buddha was 55 years old. He described himself as being old. There had been many personal attendants, but he was not satisfied with any of them:

“Now I am old, Brethren: and when I say, let us go in this way, some of the Brotherhood go by another way, some drop my bowl and robe on the ground.” - [Ja 456]

So he asked the Saṇgha to choose one capable person as his permanent attendant. As you can imagine, a lot of hands went up. It was like the kids in elementary school who know the answer and want to be called on:

Then they uprose all, beginning with Elder Sāriputta, and laid their joined hands to their heads, crying, “I will serve you, Sir, I will serve you!” But he refused them, saying, “Your prayer is forestalled! Enough.” - [Ja 456]

During all of this, Ānanda remained silent. The Buddha turned to him and asked him if he wanted the job. Ānanda answered that he would, but only upon eight conditions. The conditions tell you a lot about Ānanda:

The Elder said, 1) “If the Blessed One will not give me the robe which he himself has received, 2) if he will not give me his dole of food, 3) if he will not grant me to dwell in the same fragrant cell, 4) if he will not have me with him to go where he is invited: but 5) if the Blessed One will go with me where I am invited, 6) if I shall be granted to introduce the company at the moment of coming, which comes from foreign parts and foreign countries to see the Blessed One, 7) if I shall be granted to approach the Blessed One as soon as doubt shall arise, 8) if whenever the Blessed One shall discourse in my absence he will repeat his discourse to me as soon as I shall return: then I will attend upon the Blessed One.” These eight boons he craved, four negative and four positive. - [Ja 456]

This requires a little rewording from the Victorian translation. Ānanda asked for four negative conditions:

1. The Buddha should never pass a gift of robes on to him.

2. He should never give him any almsfood that the Buddha had received.

3. If the Buddha received a dwelling place he should never give it to him.

4. The Buddha should never include him in any personal invitation (such as an occasion for teaching Dharma when a meal would be offered).

The four positive conditions are these:

1. If Ānanda was invited to a meal, he asked for the right to transfer this invitation to the Buddha.

2. If people came from outlying areas, he asked for the privilege to lead them to the Buddha.

3. If he had any doubts or inquiries about the Dharma, he asked for the right to present these to the Buddha at any time.

4. If the Buddha gave a discourse during his absence, he asked for the privilege to have the Buddha repeat it to him privately.

- [Hellmuth Hecker, “Ānanda, Guardian of the Dhamma”]

There are two forces at work here. The first is Ānanda’s selflessness. Even in a community of selfless people, Ānanda stands out. He only wanted to serve the Buddha faithfully.

The other is that Ānanda was no fool. He knew that being the Buddha’s chief of staff was likely to foster jealousy among his fellow monks. So he removed the most obvious ways in which that might happen.

The Buddha, as you might imagine, agreed to the terms, and, as the story goes, told a Jātaka story about a previous life in which Ānanda asked for the same conditions in a similar situation [Ja 456, Juṇha Jātaka].

As the Buddha’s attendant, his duties were varied. Some of them were mundane. He took care of the Buddha’s physical needs. He tended to him when the Buddha was sick. He washed his feet and mended his robes. He cleaned his bowl.

Ānanda also controlled access to the Buddha and was the chief communicator between the Buddha and the monks. Ānanda handled many of the organizational duties of the Saṇgha. He settled disputes. He and Sarīputta were instrumental in resolving the dispute at Kosambī. It was a busy agenda, and so it is not surprising that his meditation practice suffered. He made a great sacrifice in taking on these responsibilities, and we have all benefited from it.

So here in year 21 of the Buddha’s teaching, Ānanda became the Buddha’s attendant, his nurse, secretary, CEO, and chief of staff. One of the main reasons that we have such a rich literature in the Buddhist world is because of Ānanda. The next time that you read a sutta, take a moment and remember him with gratitude.

19. The Middle Period

Death at Vesāli

According to H.W. Schumann, by the time the Buddha turned 55 his health began to fail him. The average lifespan in India at that time was only 22, so they considered anyone over 50 old. The Buddha was healthy and athletic as a young man, but he had also done nearly six years of severe ascetic practices. That must have taken a toll on his body. And while a samaṇa’s life is generally healthy, with daily walking, moderate eating, and evening meditation, it can also be quite stressful. Monks could not always rely on alms-food being available, and because they relied on alms the food quality was unreliable. Stomach problems were common. And the climate and weather were unpredictable. His health may have been one reason that the Buddha wanted a permanent attendant, although he and Ānanda were the same age.

In the Canon we lose any chronology during this period, when the Buddha was between the ages of 55 and 70. But whatever the order, there were some notable events and teachings given during this time.

One of the darkest moments of the Buddha’s teaching career came at Vesāli, the capital of the Licchavi. He gave a discourse on the foulness of the body to a group of monks, and then went into seclusion for two weeks. His instructions were that no one other than the person who brought him alms-food was to disturb him.

You may recall that the Buddha taught a similar body contemplation to his son Rāhula when Rāhula was infatuated with his youthful body. It was a way to help him loosen his attachment to the body, and to see into the inevitable decay of the body. Unfortunately one possible reaction to these practices is disgust and revulsion. And this is what happened at Vesāli:

Then those bhikkhus, thinking: “The Blessed One was giving a talk on foulness in many ways, was speaking in praise of foulness, was speaking in praise of the development of foulness meditation,” dwelt devoted to the development of foulness meditation in its many aspects and factors. Being repelled, humiliated, and disgusted with this body, they sought for an assailant. In one day ten bhikkhus used the knife, or in one day twenty or thirty bhikkhus used the knife. - [SN 56.9]

And so many monks committed suicide.

Suicide is a frequent topic in Buddhism. During the Viet Nam War some monks set themselves on fire to protest the war. Self-immolation still happens in highly charged political conditions.

I can’t speak to all the complexities in these situations. It is worth noting that there are higher, conditioned states of meditation in which you cannot feel pain. The monk may be in one of those states. And the altruistic intention of the monk may supersede the karmic damage done by committing suicide.

Nonetheless, suicide in the Canon is considered harmful unless the conditions are unusual. There are a few cases where arahants suffered from extreme pain due to illness, and because they were already arahants the Buddha said that suicide was acceptable for them. And of course being arahants they had already transcended the normal karmic activity of cause and effect [SN 35.87].

But as you can imagine, suicide under normal circumstances is karmically harmful. The state of mind of someone who commits suicide is usually negative, and this will typically result in a negative rebirth.

(However, keep in mind that karma is not deterministic. The only thing that can be truly said is that suicide will result in bad karma.)

When the Buddha came out of his two weeks of solitude, he wondered, why does “the Bhikkhu Saṇgha look so diminished?”

Ānanda told him what had happened.

The Buddha asked Ānanda to convene the monks, whereupon he gave a discourse on using mindfulness of breathing as a way of overcoming harmful mind states:

“Bhikkhus, this concentration by mindfulness of breathing, when developed and cultivated, is peaceful and sublime, an ambrosial pleasant dwelling, and it disperses and quells right on the spot evil unwholesome states whenever they arise…

“It is in this way, bhikkhus, that concentration by mindfulness of breathing is developed and cultivated so that it is peaceful and sublime, an ambrosial pleasant dwelling, and it disperses and quells on the spot evil unwholesome states whenever they arise.” - [SN 54.9]

There are a couple of things worth noting here. In the Buddha’s teaching, the first skill that a meditator must master is to cultivate a sense of well-being. In the Ānāpānasati Sutta, for example, look at the first six contemplations:

1. Know when the breath is long

2. Know when the breath is short.

3. Expand the sense of awareness to encompass the whole body.

4. Calm the whole body.

5. As a result of the fourth contemplation a sense of joy will arise. This is the primary quality of the first jhāna (meditative absorption).

6. As the fourth contemplation deepens, a sense of “happiness” and pleasure will arise. This is a calmer state than one with joy, and it is the primary factor of the second jhāna.

- [MN 188]

This is the foundation for a meditation practice. Once you establish this sense of well-being, when negative mind states arise you return to this foundation. And you can see here that this is what the Buddha taught his monks. When things go wrong, return to port and put into a safe harbor.

The other important point here is that the Buddha gave a teaching that resulted in a bad outcome. You will sometimes read that the Buddha was omniscient, but that cannot be true. You also read that he was “perfect,” and that everything he did was beyond reproach. That is also clearly not the case. It is not to say that the Buddha was to blame, necessarily. I think it probably says more about the uncertainties of the world than anything else. Stuff happens. But not everything the Buddha did had a good outcome. At Kosambī he could not even control his own monks. We live in an uncertain world, and that is all the more reason to work diligently at being free from those uncertainties. Ultimately, the world is the way it is, even for a Buddha.

Question, Question, Question!

Where Buddhism differs most sharply from other religions is on the matter of faith.

To be sure, faith is an important quality in Buddhism. But it is not blind faith, and it is not unconfirmable faith. It is a faith that if you do something it will have a positive result. People go to college because they believe that it will have a positive effect on their lives. This is not always true, but the body of evidence is that it generally does.

One of the reasons that the Wright Brothers were able to solve the problem of heavier than air flight is that they had faith in their ability to do it. They also had faith that the problem could be solved. That faith brought with it many of the qualities that the Buddha encouraged us to develop, like diligence, energy, perseverance, and patience. The Wright Brothers had to ask a lot of questions along the way, and so it is with a Buddhist practice. The second of the Seven Factors of Awakening is a sense of inquiry, of deep questioning.

This sense of inquiry is addressed most deeply in the “Kālāma Sutta: To the Kālāmas” [AN 3.65].

This sutta is popular in the West because of our freethinking approach to life. Unfortunately, that is not quite what the Buddha says in this sutta.

The name of the city in the sutta is “Kesaputta,” and it stood in an important transportation junction in India. Thus, the Kālāmas had a variety of samaṇa passing through their town. When the Buddha arrived one day, they sought him out to hear his teaching.

The beginning of this sutta is very important because it shows that the Kālāmas are curious and interested in learning. But they are also confused. They have heard so many philosophies that they are not sure what to make of it all:

“Bhante, there are some ascetics and brahmins who come to Kesaputta. They explain and elucidate their own doctrines, but disparage, denigrate, deride, and denounce the doctrines of others. But then some other ascetics and brahmins come to Kesaputta, and they too explain and elucidate their own doctrines, but disparage, denigrate, deride, and denounce the doctrines of others. We are perplexed and in doubt, Bhante, as to which of these good ascetics speak truth and which speak falsehood.” - [AN 3.65]

And in that spirit the Buddha, recognizing their sincerity, began his discourse by praising them:

“It is fitting for you to be perplexed, Kālāmas, fitting for you to be in doubt. Doubt has arisen in you about a perplexing matter. Come, Kālāmas, do not go by oral tradition, by lineage of teaching, by hearsay, by a collection of scriptures, by logical reasoning, by inferential reasoning, by reasoned cogitation, by the acceptance of a view after pondering it, by the seeming competence [of a speaker], or because you think: ‘The ascetic is our guru.’” - [AN 3.65]

So he started by saying that you should not believe something just because:

1. You have heard it (“by oral tradition”).

2. By lineage, i.e., because it has been passed down from one generation to the next.

3. By a “collection of scriptures.” In the Buddha’s time these were memorized. In today’s world this would include something written down.

4. By “logic or reasoning.” This one goes somewhat against the grain in Western society, where we pride ourselves on our logical, scientific minds. But look at how many scientific facts turned out to be wrong. Einstein, for example, did not believe in quantum mechanics. “God,” he said, “Does not play dice.”

5. You believe in a “guru.” This includes the Buddha.

It may seem strange that the Buddha counsels against conclusions that are the result of “logic and reasoning.” In the West we really value logic and reasoning. We think of logic and reason as a manifestation of the enlightened mind. But history is full of bad conclusions that resulted from logic and reasoning. My favorite example is the Witch Scene from the movie “Monty Python and the Holy Grail” (Internet search: “Monty Python She’s a witch”):

Vladimir: There are ways of telling whether she is a witch.

P1: Are there? Well then tell us! (tell us)

V: Tell me... what do you do with witches?

P3: Burn’em! Burn them up! (burn burn burn)

V: What do you burn apart from witches?

P1: More witches! (P2 nudge P1)

(pause)

P3: Wood!

V: So, why do witches burn?

(long pause)

P2: Cuz they’re made of... wood?

V: Gooood.

(crowd congratulates P2)

V: So, how do we tell if she is made of wood?

P1: Build a bridge out of her!

V: Ahh, but can you not also make bridges out of stone?

P1: Oh yeah...

V: Does wood sink in water?

P1: No

P3: No. It floats!

P1: Let’s throw her into the bog! (yeah yeah yeah!)

V: What also floats in water?

P1: Bread

P3: Apples

P2: Very small rocks

(V looks annoyed)

P1: Cider

P3: Grape gravy

P1: Cherries

P3: Mud

King: A Duck!

(all look and stare at king)

V: Exactly! So, logically...

P1 (thinking): If she weighs the same as a duck... she’s made of wood!

V: And therefore?

(pause & think)

P3: A witch! (P1: a witch)(P2: a witch)(all: a witch!)

V: We shall use my largest scales.

(Vladimir jumps down)

(walk over while cheering)

(push her into scale)

V: Right, remove the stops!

(wait while scales remains still)

All: A witch! Burn her! Burn her!!

Clearly the next question is, well, if we rule out all these ways of understanding, how do we tell what is right and what is wrong?

“But when, Kālāmas, you know for yourselves: ‘These things are unwholesome; these things are blameworthy; these things are censured by the wise; these things, if accepted and undertaken, lead to harm and suffering,’ then you should abandon them.” - [AN 3.65]

This is reminiscent of the talk that the Buddha gave to Rāhula. Examine the consequences of your actions. What is the result? Is it for the long-term benefit of yourself and others?

“What do you think, Kālāmas? When greed arises in a person, is it for his welfare or for his harm?”

“For his harm, Bhante.”

“Kālāmas, a greedy person, overcome by greed, with mind obsessed by it, destroys life, takes what is not given, transgresses with another’s wife, and speaks falsehood; and he encourages others to do likewise. Will that lead to his harm and suffering for a long time?”

“Yes, Bhante.” - [AN 3.65]

The Buddha repeated this formula for hatred and delusion, then summarized:

“What do you think, Kālāmas? Are these things wholesome or unwholesome?”

“Unwholesome, Bhante.”

“Blameworthy or blameless?”

“Blameworthy, Bhante.”

“Censured or praised by the wise?”

“Censured by the wise, Bhante.”

“Accepted and undertaken, do they lead to harm and suffering or not, or how do you take it?”

“Accepted and undertaken, these things lead to harm and suffering. So we take it.” - [AN 3.65]

Notice that the Buddha added a new criterion here, and that is “censured or praised by the wise.” Thus, it isn’t just your opinion. And in the Buddha’s scheme, someone who is wise is an arahant, someone who has escaped from self-preoccupation, is altruistic, wise, compassionate, loving, equanimous, generous.

The Buddha went on to teach about “right intention,” the motivation behind your actions:

“Then, Kālāmas, that noble disciple, who is thus devoid of longing, devoid of ill will, unconfused, clearly comprehending, ever mindful, dwells pervading one quarter with a mind imbued with loving-kindness … with a mind imbued with compassion … with a mind imbued with altruistic joy … with a mind imbued with equanimity, likewise the second quarter, the third quarter, and the fourth quarter. Thus above, below, across, and everywhere, and to all as to himself, he dwells pervading the entire world with a mind imbued with equanimity, vast, exalted, measureless, without enmity, without ill will.” - [AN 3.65]

Thus he included a teaching on the brahma viharas, the noble abidings.

The next section is also very interesting. The Buddha taught about rebirth. It is a fundamental part of his Dharma. But he was speaking to a non-Buddhist audience. Rebirth was not universally accepted in India at that time [Ṭhānissaro Bhikkhu, The Truth of Rebirth]. He also had an audience that had not heard and did not necessarily believe in causality. So next he told them that within reason, whatever they believe, that acting in the way he described will be of benefit to them:

“This noble disciple, Kālāmas, whose mind is in this way without enmity, without ill will, undefiled, and pure, has won four assurances in this very life.

1) “The first assurance he has won is this: ‘If there is another world, and if there is the fruit and result of good and bad deeds, it is possible that with the breakup of the body, after death, I will be reborn in a good destination, in a heavenly world.’”

2) “The second assurance he has won is this: ‘If there is no other world, and there is no fruit and result of good and bad deeds, still right here, in this very life, I maintain myself in happiness, without enmity and ill will, free of trouble.’”

3) “The third assurance he has won is this: ‘Suppose evil comes to one who does evil. Then, when I have no evil intentions toward anyone, how can suffering afflict me, since I do no evil deed?’”

4) “The fourth assurance he has won is this: ‘Suppose evil does not come to one who does evil. Then right here I see myself purified in both respects.’”

- [AN 3.65]

In other words, there is no downside to virtue.

And next, of course, since this is a Buddhist text, all the Kālāmas go to him for refuge.

Where I think some people get this teaching wrong is that this is not some license to believe anything you want. Remember that poor witch. There are criteria. It is also useful to remember his audience, which is a group of non-Buddhists. Elsewhere there are many teachings on “right view,” most notably the “Sammādiṭṭhi Sutta: The Discourse on Right View” [MN 9] and the discourse on “wrong view,” the “Brahmajāla Sutta: The Supreme Net,” which is also called “What the Teaching is Not” [DN 1]. The latter discourse is the very first one in the Pāli Canon.

It is instructive that the Brahmajāla Sutta is the first one in the Canon. One of the sections in the sutta is “The Sixty-Two Kinds of Wrong Views.” Among these wrong views are a favorite among “secular” Buddhists. (I am still not sure what “secular Buddhism” means. Something is either true or it isn’t.) That is that when life ends, it ends, and there is no continuation. The Buddha went into great detail to refute that notion. (See the third recitation section.)

Another popular wrong view is that the self does not exist. There is, of course, the Buddha’s teaching on non-self, anattā. But the Buddha never said that the self does not exist. What he said is that our self-identification with mental and bodily processes causes suffering for others and ourselves. He went on to say that these mental and bodily processes change all the time and that they cannot, therefore, be a permanent, unchanging self, especially something that is reborn. The Buddha never said whether the self exists or not. In Buddhism this question is called one of the “imponderables.” The Buddha told us not to get caught up in speculation about this question. This question does not matter when you are practicing, and it is irrelevant after you become an arahant [Ṭhānissaro Bhikkhu, Selves and Not-self].

Oversimplifying the Buddha’s teaching is always dangerous. It is not necessary to articulate every nuance of the Buddha’s teaching to practice. That is one reason that the discourse to Rāhula is so helpful. It is the heart of the teaching. But it is important to know when someone tells you something that the Buddha did not teach. And that is one reason that deep questioning is so important in Buddhism.

The Handful of Leaves

One of the important points about the Buddha’s teaching is that the Buddha taught what is necessary for us to awaken. To the extent that he taught anything about what he found on the night of his awakening, it is only enough to help us along the path.

Unfortunately, the Buddha’s teachings are temptingly seductive to philosophical and scholarly minds. They are unique, so the temptation is to turn them into a philosophy or a description of ultimate reality.

To be sure, the scholarly world has been profoundly important in the history of Buddhism. There are people to whom we owe a great debt of gratitude, especially those of us in the West. In the nineteenth century some brilliant scholarship helped bring Buddhism here.

One of the most important scholars of the time was Thomas Williams Rhys Davids, who is usually called “T.W.” He and a group of scholars, including his equally illustrious wife Caroline Rhys Davids, formed the Pāli Text Society. In 1874 they published the first Pāli to English dictionary. By the time Rhys Davids died in 1922, the Pāli Text Society had published 64 texts in 94 volumes exceeding 26,000 pages. Many of the quotes in this book, especially the ones from the commentaries and the Jātaka Tales, are from their work. Then until her death in 1942 Caroline Rhys Davids was president of the Pāli Text Society, and she continued the work.

Figure: T.W. and Caroline Rhys Davids

Buddhism is a relatively recent movement in the West, so people like T.W and Caroline Rhys Davids were way ahead of their time. It is hard to imagine how Buddhism would have been able to thrive as it has in the West without their considerable efforts.

Having said that, the purpose of the Buddha’s teaching is to awaken. The Dharma and the Vinaya are the manuals. They are the road map.

In one of his brief but important discourses, the Buddha made this point. It is the “Simsapa Sutta: The Simsapa Leaves” [SN 56.31]:

Once the Blessed One was staying at Kosambī in the simsapa forest. Then, picking up a few simsapa leaves with his hand, he asked the monks, “What do you think, monks: Which are more numerous, the few simsapa leaves in my hand or those overhead in the simsapa forest?”

“The leaves in the hand of the Blessed One are few in number, lord. Those overhead in the simsapa forest are more numerous.”

“In the same way, monks, those things that I have known with direct knowledge but have not taught are far more numerous [than what I have taught]. And why haven’t I taught them? Because they are not connected with the goal, do not relate to the rudiments of the holy life, and do not lead to disenchantment, to dispassion, to cessation, to calm, to direct knowledge, to self-awakening, to Unbinding. That is why I have not taught them.”

Figure: Simsapa Leaves

20. The Final Decade

You may have noticed that there was relative political stability during most of the Buddha’s life, at least thus far. This was in part because Kosala and Magadha were the superpowers of ancient India, and two relatively civilized kings, Bimbisāra and Pasenadi, ruled them. Bimbisāra was a good man, and although King Pasenadi was a bit more colorful and unpredictable, he had an inquisitive, thoughtful mind. It probably helped that he had Queen Mallika, Anāthapiṇḍika, and Visākhā around him as well. And despite his somewhat unpredictable nature, he was sincere at heart, and there are many lengthy discussions between him and the Buddha in the Canon.

Bimbisāra, Pasenadi, and the Buddha were all roughly the same age. It must have been an extraordinary time to have three such unique people as peers in ancient India. But now they were all getting older, and things were about to change.

The Buddha was seventy years old. Increasingly he deferred to his senior disciples, especially Ānanda, Sāriputta, Moggallāna, and Mahākassapa, to deliver discourses. One thing to look for in the Pāli Canon is discourses where the Buddha gave “an explanation in brief” and then retired to his hut. The monks then sought out someone else to give “an explanation in full.” These are probably later discourses from this period.

The Buddha also seems increasingly dissatisfied with his monks:

Then the Blessed One addressed the bhikkhus thus: “Bhikkhus, there was an occasion when the bhikkhus satisfied my mind… I had no need to keep on instructing those bhikkhus; I had only to arouse mindfulness in them. Suppose there were a chariot on even ground at the crossroads, harnessed to thoroughbreds, waiting with goad lying ready, so that a skilled trainer, a charioteer of horses to be tamed, might mount it, and taking the reins in his left hand and the goad in his right hand, might drive out and back by any road whenever he likes. So too, I had no need to keep on instructing those bhikkhus; I had only to arouse mindfulness in them.” - [MN 21.7]

And this is Mahākassapa speaking to the Buddha:

“Venerable sir, the bhikkhus are difficult to admonish now, and they have qualities which make them difficult to admonish. They are impatient and do not accept instruction respectfully.” - [SN 21.7]

Thus we have a wider epidemic of the one first seen at Kosambī. The indiscretions of youth are timeless. There were problems even in a culture that valued respect for elders.

Eventually the issue became, then, who would lead the Saṇgha when the Buddha died?

Devadatta and Ajātasattu

This problem was not lost on one particular monk and that was the Buddha’s cousin, Devadatta. You may recall that Devadatta was one of the six young men who left Sakya together with the barber Upāli.

Devadatta was known for his magical powers, but he is not credited with having attained stream-entry.

One day, as Devadatta was in meditation, he had the thought that he and King Bimbisāra’s son Ajātasattu should join forces:

Now the following thought occurred to Devadatta when he had retired into solitude, and was plunged in meditation: “Whom now can I so gain over that, he being well pleased with me, much gain and honor may result to me? And it occurred to him, ‘Now this prince Ajātasattu is young, and has a lucky future before him. Let me then gain him over; and he being well pleased with me, much gain and honor will result.’” - [Cv 7.2.1]

So he went to Rājagaha. Once he got there, in order to make an impression on the young prince Devadatta he used his magical powers to take the form of a child clad in a “girdle of snakes” and landed on Ajātasattu’s lap. Ajātasattu was justifiably afraid, but Devadatta reverted to his normal human form. It was then that Devadatta made his proposal:

Then Devadatta, laying aside the form of the child, appeared there before prince Ajātasattu with his inner and outer robes on, and with his bowl in his hand. And prince Ajātasattu was well pleased with Devadatta by reason of this marvel of [psychic powers], and morning and evening he used to go in five hundred chariots to wait upon him, and food was brought and laid before him in five hundred dishes.

Then there arose in Devadatta’s mind, possessed and vanquished by gain and hospitality and fame, some such thought as this: “It is I who ought to lead the Bhikkhu-Saṇgha.” And as the idea rose up within him, (that moment) Devadatta was deprived of his [psychic powers]. - [Cv 7.2.1]

So Devadatta lost his psychic powers, but he accomplished his purpose. Devadatta impressed Ajātasattu, and they began to conspire together. It turned out that the young prince was just as ambitious as Devadatta.

There were those in the Saṇgha who noticed this unhealthy alliance. They warned the Buddha, who made light of it:

“Envy not, O Bhikkhus, the gain and hospitality and fame of Devadatta. So long, O Bhikkhus, as Ajātasattu [so waits upon him and gives him alms] so long may we expect Devadatta not to prosper, but to decline in virtuous qualities.” - [Cv 7.2.5]

Devadatta decided to propose that he take over the Saṇgha in a public way, perhaps to put the Buddha on the spot. The Buddha was giving a discourse to a large group, one that included King Bimbisāra, when Devadatta got up and addressed the Buddha:

“The Blessed One, Lord, is now grown aged, he is old and stricken in years, he has accomplished a long journey, and his term of life is nearly run. Let the Blessed One now dwell at ease in the enjoyment of happiness reached even in this world. Let the Blessed One give up the Bhikkhu-Saṇgha to me, I will be its leader.”

“Thou hast said enough, Devadatta. Desire not to be the leader of the Bhikkhu-Saṇgha.”

[And a second time Devadatta made the same request, and received the same reply. And a third time Devadatta made the same request.]

“I would not give over the Bhikkhu-Saṇgha, Devadatta, even to Sāriputta and Moggallāna. How much less, then, to so vile and evil-living a person as you.”

Then Devadatta thought: “Before the King and his retinue the Blessed One denies me, calling me ‘evil-living,’ and exalts Sāriputta and Moggallāna.” And, angry and displeased, he bowed down before the Blessed One, and keeping him on his right hand as he passed him, he departed thence. - [Cv 7.3.1]

In a different translation of this text, the Buddha calls Devadatta a “lick-spittle.” Either way, it’s not good. The Buddha had publicly humiliated Devadatta.

Once again, see how the Buddha was not shy about reprimanding misbehaving monks. He set a very high standard for them. What may be hard to see is that he never did so out of malice. It was always with purpose and never with ill intent. And here he was trying to make a particularly important point. The Buddha had no intention of turning the Saṇgha over to anyone. The Saṇgha would thrive or fail as an egalitarian organization, one based on the discourses and the monastic code, the “Dharma and Discipline,” and not by the transfer of power to an individual.

As we have seen before, the Buddha was extremely sensitive to the potential abuse of religious authority. Just as he preached to the brahmin, it is by one’s virtuous conduct that one is a true brahmin. The Buddha will not entrust the future of the Saṇgha to the whims and fortunes of one person, even if that person is Sāriputta or Moggallāna.

For the ambitious Devadatta, the Buddha’s response was the greatest humiliation possible. But it did not end there. The Buddha asked the Saṇgha in Rājagaha to pass an “Act of Proclamation” denouncing Devadatta:

And the Blessed One said to the Bhikkhus, “Let then the Saṇgha, O Bhikkhus, carry out against Devadatta the Act of Proclamation in Rājagaha, to the effect that whereas the nature of Devadatta used to be of one kind it is now of another kind, and that whatsoever he shall do, either bodily or verbally, in that neither shall the Buddha be recognized, nor the Dhamma, nor the Saṇgha, but only Devadatta.” - [Cv 7.3.2]

In other words, from here foreword, Devadatta would not be acting as a Buddhist monk but only as a private individual.

And finally, the Buddha told Sāriputta to walk through the city, like a town crier, with other monks declaring this proclamation. Sāriputta was somewhat embarrassed by this because he had once praised Devadatta for his psychic powers. Nonetheless, he agreed to the Buddha’s request:

And the Blessed One said to the venerable Sāriputta, “Do you then, Sāriputta, proclaim Devadatta throughout Rājagaha.”

“In former times, Lord, I have sung the praises of Devadatta in Rājagaha, saying, ‘Great is the [psychic] power of the son of Godhi! Great is the might of the son of Godhi!’ How can I now proclaim him throughout Rājagaha?”

“Was it not truth that you spoke, Sāriputta, when you [so] sang his praises?”

“Yes, Lord!”

“Even so, Sāriputta, do you now, speaking the truth, proclaim Devadatta throughout Rājagaha.”

“Even so, Lord,” said Sāriputta, in assent to the Blessed One. - [Cv 7.3.2]

But the conspiracy did not end here. There remained the matter of the ambitious prince.

Bimbisāra Abdicates

Devadatta still saw the possibility of good fortune in his relationship with Ajātasattu. However, as a prince Ajātasattu’s power was limited. So Devadatta encouraged Ajātasattu to kill his father and ascend to the throne. Likewise, Devadatta said that he would kill the Buddha, and they would come to power together:

And Devadatta went to Ajātasattu the prince, and said to him: “In former days, prince, people were long-lived, but now their term of life is short. It is quite possible, therefore, that you may complete your time while you are still a prince. So do you, prince, kill your father, and become the Rāja; and I will kill the Blessed One, and become the Buddha.” - [Cv 7.3.4]

In a curious leap of logic, Devadatta believed that by killing the Buddha he could take over the Saṇgha. Well, stranger things have happened in the annals of religion.

So there were now plans to commit two murders. Ajātasattu went first. He sneaked into King Bimbisāra’s room with a dagger to stab his father. But the guards saw him and forced him to confess. Ajātasattu, in a scene worthy of honor among thieves, blamed the plot on Devadatta:

“What were you going to do, O prince?”

“I wanted to kill my father.”

“Who incited you to this?”

“The worthy Devadatta.” - [Cv 7.3.4]

The King’s ministers were not quite sure what to do. Some of them wanted the prince and Devadatta both killed. Others wanted all the Buddha’s monks killed as well. Still others argued that no one should be killed. Finally they sought out the King, and told him what happened. King Bimbisāra, in a story that probably says as much about his character as any in the Canon, did an astonishing thing:

And the Rāja of Magadha, [King] Bimbisāra, said to prince Ajātasattu: “Why did you want to kill me, O prince?”

“I wanted a kingdom, O King!”

“If you then want a kingdom, O prince, let this kingdom be thine!” And he handed over the kingdom to Ajātasattu the prince. - [Cv 7.3.5]

And with that, King Bimbisāra abdicated, and Ajātasattu became the King of Magadha.

Sadly, even his father’s generosity did not end the matter. Ajātasattu threw his father into prison and refused to give him any food. From his prison cell Bimbisāra could see Vulture Peak, and he took some solace in watching the Buddha meditate and do walking meditation. However, Bimbisāra was not completely abandoned. One of his wives, Ajātasattu’s mother Kosaladevī, who was also King Pasenadi’s sister, managed to sneak food into the prison. Ajātasattu could not understand why his father was not yet dead. Finally the guards discovered what she was doing, and soon afterwards Bimbisāra died. Kosaladevī was so heartbroken that a few months later she, too, died.

Figure: Site of Bimbisāra’s prison, looking up at Vulture Peak

Assassination Attempts

Of course, with people like Devadatta and Ajātasattu, there is always more to come, and it is never good. This started with the matter of Devadatta’s target, the Buddha. Ajātasattu gave orders to his men that they should do whatever Devadatta wanted. Devadatta instructed one man to kill the Buddha. Then he told two other men to kill the killer. And then he told four men to kill those two men, and so it went, up to a final hit squad of sixteen men.

Here is the account from the Cullavagga:

Then Devadatta went to prince Ajātasattu, and said, “Give such orders, O King, to your men that I may deprive the Samaṇa Gotama of life.” And Ajātasattu the prince gave orders to his men: “Whatsoever the worthy Devadatta tells you, that do!”

Then to one man Devadatta gave command: “Go, my friend, the [Buddha] is staying at such and such a place. Kill him, and come back by this path.” Then on that path he placed other two men, telling them, “Whatever man you see coming alone along this path, kill him, and return by that path.” Then on that path he placed other four men [and so on up to sixteen men]. - [Cv 7.3.6]

But the plot failed. The first man did find the Buddha but when he got there he was terrified. The Buddha sensed his presence and called out to him:

On the Blessed One seeing him so, he said to the man: “Come hither, friend, don’t be afraid.”

Then that man laid aside his sword and his shield, took off his bow and his quiver, and went up to the Blessed One; and falling at his feet, he said to the Blessed One: “Transgression, Lord, has overcome me even according to my folly, my stupidity, and my unrighteousness, in that I have come hither with evil and with murderous intent. May the Blessed One accept the confession I make of my sin in its sinfulness, to the end that in future I may restrain myself therefrom!”

“Verily, my friend, transgression has overcome you... But since you, my friend, look upon your sin as sin, and duly make amends for it, we do accept (your confession of) it. For this, O friend, is progress in the discipline of the Noble One, that he who has seen his sin to be sin makes amends for it as is meet, and becomes able in future to restrain himself therefrom.”

Then the Blessed One discoursed to that man in due order, that is to say May the Blessed One accept me as a disciple, as one who, from this day forth as long as life endures, has taken his refuge in him.

And the Blessed One said to the man: “Do not, my friend, leave me by that path. Go by this path.” and so dismissed him by another way. - [Cv 7.3.7]

Note the kind tone and compassion in the Buddha’s treatment of the young man. It is quite a contrast to his severe treatment of Devadatta.

So not only did the plot fail, the intended killer went for refuge to the Buddha, and the Buddha even saved the young man’s life by warning him to take a different path down the mountain to avoid the next two killers.

The next two intended killers begin to wonder where the first one went, so they made their way back up to the path where they found the Buddha. They, too, end up going for refuge, and they, too, had their lives saved by the Buddha by taking a different path and avoiding the next killers in the plot. This continued until the final intended killers also went for refuge.

Having failed in his attempt to have others kill the Buddha, Devadatta decided to do it himself. He went to the top of Vulture Peak and rolled a huge rock down the mountain toward the Buddha. But the Buddha managed to avoid the rock, although his foot was hurt in the attempt:

Then the Blessed One, looking upwards, said to Devadatta: “Great, O foolish one, is the demerit you have brought forth for yourself, in that with evil and murderous intent you have caused the blood of the Tathāgata to flow.”

And the Blessed One said to the Bhikkhus: “This is the first time that Devadatta has heaped up (against himself) a Karma which will work out its effect in the immediate future, in that with evil and murderous intent he has caused the blood of the Tathāgata to flow.” - [Cv 7.3.9]

Figure: Where the Buddha was treated after his foot was wounded.

By this time the bhikkhus in the Saṇgha were very concerned about the Buddha. They started reciting protective chants. But the Buddha told them that a Buddha can only die of natural causes:

And the Bhikkhus having heard that Devadatta was compassing the death of the Blessed One, walked round and round the Vihāra, making recitation in high and loud tones, for a protection and guard to the Blessed One. On hearing that noise the Blessed One asked the venerable Ānanda what it was. And when Ānanda [told him], the Blessed One said: “Then, Ānanda, call the Bhikkhus in my name, saying, ‘The Teacher sends for the venerable ones.’”

And he [did so], and they came, and saluted the Blessed One, and took their seats on one side. And when they were so seated, the Blessed One said to the Bhikkhus: “This, O Bhikkhus, is an impossible thing, and one that cannot occur, that one should deprive a Tathāgata of life by violence. The Tathāgatas, O Bhikkhus, are extinguished (in death) in due and natural course.” - [Cv 7.3.10]

So Devadatta failed for a second time. But he was persistent, and imaginative in his next attempt. He went to the elephant keepers – “mahouts” - in Rājagaha. He told them that he was related to the King, and that he had the power and the authority to promote them to high positions in the kingdom. He instructed them to release an aggressive bull elephant named Nālāgiri when the Buddha walked down the road on his alms rounds. In some accounts Nālāgiri was drunk. But the Buddha countered Nālāgiri’s aggressiveness with loving-kindness:

And the Blessed One caused the sense of his love to pervade the elephant Nālāgiri; and the elephant, touched by the sense of his love, put down his trunk, and went up to the place where the Blessed One was, and stood still before him. And the Blessed One, stroking the elephant’s forehead with his right hand, addressed him in these stanzas:

“Touch not, O elephant, the elephant of men; for sad, O elephant, is such attack,

“For no bliss is there, O elephant, when he is passed from hence, for him who strikes the elephant of men.

“Be not then mad, and neither be thou careless, for the careless enter not into a state of bliss,

“Rather do thou thyself so act, that to a state of bliss thou mayest go.”

And Nālāgiri the elephant took up with his trunk the dust from off the feet of the Blessed One, and sprinkled it over its head, and retired, bowing backwards the while it gazed upon the Blessed One.

And Nālāgiri the elephant returned to the elephant stables, and stood in its appointed place, and became once more the tame Nālāgiri. - [Cv 7.3.12]

As already noted, animals and Buddhist monks have a long history together. The story of the Buddha and Nālāgiri is a model and example for the compassionate relationship between Buddhists and animals. All living beings, from mosquitoes to snakes, crocodiles and whales are sacred living beings that are capable of attaining liberation. Our compassion for them is a way that they can accumulate good karma and to have an auspicious rebirth in which to practice the Dharma.

Schism

After trying to kill the Buddha three times and becoming a target of public ridicule as well as disrepute in the Saṇgha, you might think that Devadatta would shrink off into the sunset. But people of his ilk have hubris that most people do not understand. And he had the King on his side, a King who had just shown his own bit of hubris in killing his good-hearted father, the man who had selflessly turned over the kingdom to him despite his attempt at patricide.

But Devadatta did not go quietly off into the sunset. His next tactic was to discredit the Buddha. He thought that he could get the monks to follow him instead of the Buddha. He could create his own following.

It was a surreal scene. Devadatta was out of the Saṇgha. Sāriputta announced this far and wide. Yet Devadatta went to the Buddha, again in public, and requested that the Vinaya be modified to include stricter rules. The rules that he proposed were as follows:

1. The monks should only live in the forest.

2. They should only eat alms-food, and not accept invitations to eat at someone’s house.

3. They should dress in robes made only from rags that they had collected, and not accept robes presented to them by a layperson.

4. They should not sleep under a roof, even during the rainy season, and should only sleep under trees.

5. They should never eat meat.

The last one is particularly interesting. As we have already seen, a monk or a nun was forbidden from eating meat if they suspected that the animal was killed for them. It is possible that the rule allowing the eating of meat was simply practical. The monks and nuns lived on alms-food. This was ancient India, and food was hard enough to come by. Monks and nuns were not always guaranteed daily alms-food. It may have been expecting too much to think that they could thrive if meat was forbidden. It is also possible that the intent was simply to gratefully receive any offering, and it would have been arrogant to refuse it. Note also that later in Buddhist history, in Tibet it is almost impossible to grow anything, so a vegetarian diet was almost impossible.

The Buddha gave the answer that Devadatta expected; he refuted these new rules. Devadatta used the Buddha’s refusal to argue to the monks that the Buddha lived a life of “luxury”:

Then those of the people who were unbelievers, and without reverence or insight, said. “These Sakyaputtiya [sons of Sakya] Samaṇas have eradicated evil from their minds, and have quelled their passions, while on the other hand the Samaṇa Gotama is luxurious, and his mind dwells on abundance.” - [Cv 7.3.16]

The Buddha warned Devadatta that creating schism in the Saṇgha is a serious offense, and brings a great deal of bad karma:

“Is it true, O Devadatta, as they say, that thou goest about to stir up division in the Saṇgha, and in the body of my adherents?”

“It is true, Lord.”

“(Thou hast gone far) enough, Devadatta. Let not a division in the Saṇgha seem good to you; grievous is such division. Whosoever, O Devadatta, breaks up the Saṇgha, when it is at peace, he gives birth to a fault (the effect of) which endures for a kalpa, and for a kalpa is he boiled in [hell]. But whosoever, O Devadatta, makes peace in the Saṇgha, when it has been divided, he gives birth to the highest merit, and for a kalpa is he happy in heaven. You have gone far enough, Devadatta. Let not a division in the Saṇgha, O Devadatta, seem good to you. Grievous, O Devadatta, is such division.” - [Cv 7.3.16]

(A “kalpa” is a life of the universe. In modern cosmology this means a big bang followed by the expansion of the universe, contraction of the universe, and up to the beginning of the next big bang. Hinduism and Buddhism have always held that the universe, like everything else, goes through cycles of birth, death, and rebirth. This view has only been adopted by modern science in the past few decades.)

One morning Ānanda ran into Devadatta on alms rounds. Devadatta told Ānanda that from now on he would run his own order of monks using the modified Vinaya:

“At once, from this day forth, friend Ānanda, I intend to perform Uposatha, and to carry out the formal proceedings of the Order, without either the Blessed One or the Bhikkhu-Saṇgha.” - [Cv 7.3.17]

When Ānanda reported this to the Buddha, his response was this:

“Easy is a good act to the good, a good act is hard to the wicked.”

“Easy is evil to the evil, but evil is hard for the Noble Ones to do.” - [Cv 7.3.17]

Devadatta’s message had an appeal to novice monks who did not yet understand the Buddha’s Dharma, and it led some of them to defect. In particular, there was a newly ordained group of “500” monks from Vesāli who followed Devadatta to Gaya:

Now at that time there were five hundred Bhikkhus, Vesāliyans, and belonging to the Vajjian clan, who had but recently joined the Order, and were ignorant of what he had in hand. They believed [the Five Points to be according to] the Dhamma, and the Vinaya, and the teaching of the Master. And Devadatta, having thus created a division in the Saṇgha, went out to the hill Gaya-sīsa, taking those five hundred Bhikkhus with him. - [Cv 7.4.1]

Sāriputta and Moggallāna reported this to the Buddha, who said to them:

“Verily, Sāriputta and Moggallāna, there must be a feeling of kindness towards those young Bhikkhus among you both. Go therefore, both of you, before they have fallen into entire destruction.” - [Cv 7.4.1]

The Buddha encouraged Sāriputta and Moggallāna to go to the young monks out of compassion. And you can see in this quote that he did not do this out of anger or frustration. And it was not because he was afraid of Devadatta or the new samaṇa group. It was out of concern for the monks.

When Sāriputta and Moggallāna got to Gaya, Devadatta was giving a discourse. Devadatta thought that they had come over to his side. They sat down with the other monks, and Devadatta talked late into the night. Finally he got tired, so he asked Sāriputta to give a discourse of his own. Devadatta, exhausted from many hours of talking, quickly fell asleep. Sāriputta talked for a long time, then Moggallāna talked, and eventually the monks attained stream-entry.

Then Sāriputta told the monks that whoever believed in the Buddha’s Dharma should come with him back to the Veluvana, the Bamboo Forest Monastery. All of them did. And when Devadatta woke up and discovered what had happened, “hot blood came forth from Devadatta’s mouth.”

The Buddha, however, did not accept the monks back into the Saṇgha so easily. He made them confess their transgression. Then he used a simile to compare the true Dharma to a false Dharma:

“Once upon a time, O Bhikkhus, there was a great pond in a forest region. Some elephants dwelt beside it; and they, plunging into the pond, plucked with their trunks the edible stalks of the lotus plants, washed them till they were quite clean, chewed them without any dirt, and so ate them up. And that produced in them both beauty and strength, and by reason thereof they neither went down into death, nor into any sorrow like unto death.

“Now among those great elephants, O Bhikkhus, there were young elephant calves, who also, in imitation of those others, plunged into that pond, and plucked with their trunks the edible stalks of the lotus plants; but they did not wash them till they were clean, but chewed them, dirt and all, and so ate them up. And that produced in them neither beauty nor strength; and by reason thereof they went down into death, and into sorrows like unto death.

“Just so, O Bhikkhus, will Devadatta die who, poor creature, is emulating me.

“Like the elephant calf who eats mud in imitation, of the great beast

“That shakes the earth, and eats the lotus plant, and watches through the night among the waters -

“So will he, poor creature, die that emulates me.” - [Cv 7.4.5]

Unfortunately, even this was not the end of Devadatta. He still had the support of King Ajātasattu, who gave him a monastery near Gaya. On one occasion some of the Buddha’s monks went there for food. The Buddha reprimanded them for this [Ja 26].

Devadatta did not live much longer. According to Jātaka 457, the Dhamma Jātaka, Devadatta was “swallowed up by the earth.” (This may have been an earthquake.) But Devadatta’s Saṇgha lasted at least into the fifth Century CE. The Chinese pilgrim Faxian reported that he met monks who said they were followers of Devadatta.

War with Kosala

Back in Sāvathī, King Pasenadi was very upset about his brother-in-law’s murder and his sister’s death from grief. When you read about these arranged, royal marriages, it is easy to forget that these people often cared deeply about each other. And you certainly get the impression that King Bimbisāra and King Pasenadi had affection for each other. They were nearly the same age, they both respected and supported the Buddha, and they both cared about Kosaladevī.

When Kosaladevī married King Bimbisāra her dowry was the taxes on the village of Kāsi, which ws near Benares. Given the circumstances, King Pasenadi wanted it back. This started a series of battles between the two. The long peace and friendship between the kingdoms came to an end:

Mahā-Kosala, the King of Kosala’s father, when he married his daughter to King Bimbisāra, had given her a village in Kāsi for bath-money. After Ajātasattu murdered Bimbisāra, his father, the queen very soon died of love for him. Even after his mother’s death, Ajātasattu still enjoyed the revenues of this village. But the King of Kosala determined that no patricide should have a village that was his by right of inheritance, and made war upon him. Sometimes the uncle got the best of it, and sometimes the nephew. And when Ajātasattu was victor, he raised his banner and marched through the country back to his capital in triumph; but when he lost, all downcast he returned without letting any one know.

- [Ja 239, Harita-Matā Jātaka]

Finally, after a prolonged conflict, King Pasenadi won a decisive battle:

In that battle King Pasenadi defeated King Ajātasattu and captured him alive. Then it occurred to King Pasenadi: “Although this King Ajātasattu of Magadha has transgressed against me while I have not transgressed against him, still, he is my nephew. Let me now confiscate all his elephant troops, all his cavalry, all his chariot troops, and all his infantry, and let him go with nothing but his life.” - [SN 3.2.5]

Once again a compassionate relative spared Ajātasattu. But as you can see Pasenadi was no fool. He took away Ajātasattu’s means for waging war. In addition he arranged for his daughter Vajirā to marry Ajātasattu. Vajirā was notably his daughter with Queen Mallika. As her dowry, he returned the village of Kāsi to Magadha. He could have, of course, killed Ajātasattu, and gotten his revenge. But his goal was to restore peace to the two kingdoms, something that benefitted everyone. It is a lesson in humanitarian practicality. It was wise and compassionate, and it showed his skill as a leader.

There is one other story in a different context that shows how well Pasenadi’s reconciliation worked. You may recall the discourse in which Ānanda had a long conversation with King Pasenadi [MN 88]. It is the one after which the Buddha said:

“It is a gain, bhikkhus, for King Pasenadi of Kosala, it is a great gain for King Pasenadi of Kosala that he has had the opportunity of seeing and paying respect to Ānanda.” - [MN 88.22]

There is an almost parenthetical remark in this discourse about King Pasenadi offering Ānanda a gift out of gratitude:

“But there is this cloak of mine, venerable sir, which was sent to me packed in a royal umbrella case by King Ajātasattu of Magadha, sixteen hands long and eight hands wide. Let the venerable Ānanda accept it out of compassion.” - [MN 88.18]

Thus at some time after the conflict their relationship was close enough that Ajātasattu gave King Pasenadi an expensive gift.

Ajātasattu did eventually feel remorse for killing his father. In the only direct conversation between Ajātasattu and the Buddha recorded in the Canon, one evening the King decided he wanted to hear a discourse that would “bring peace to our heart” [DN 2.1]. After his advisors made several suggestions for who should give this talk, the old doctor Jīvaka suggested that Ajātasattu visit the Buddha. Curiously, Ajātasattu agreed. And as the story goes he outfitted 500 she-elephants and put one of his wives on each of them, and they proceeded to the Mango Grove where the Buddha was staying.

If you were to simply pick up a copy of the Digha Nikāya and read it end-to-end, nothing would seem particularly strange about the context for this discourse. But we do know the context. King Bimbisāra was a good man and a supporter of the Buddha. Ajātasattu killed his father and led to the death of his own mother. Jīvaka likewise was a long-time supporter of the Buddha. He had given that very Mango Grove to the Saṇgha. And now for some reason Ajātasattu was inspired to hear a religious discourse, and after rejecting six other prominent samaṇas he chose to see the Buddha. And as far as we know Ajātasattu had never met the Buddha.

The strange circumstances may be the reason that he became fearful as he approached the Mango Grove:

And when King Ajātasattu came near the mango-grove he felt fear and terror, and his hair stood on end. And feeling this fear and the rising of the hairs, the King said to Jīvaka: “Friend Jīvaka, you are not deceiving me? You are not tricking me? You are not delivering me up to an enemy? How is it that from this great number of twelve hundred and fifty monks not a sneeze, a cough or a shout is to be heard?” - [DN 2.10]

It was inconceivable to Ajātasattu that it could be so quiet. He knew there were many monks there. He could not believe that so many people could be that quiet. He assumed that this must be some kind of conspiracy. But Jīvaka assured him that there was no deception:

“Have no fear, Your Majesty, I would not deceive you or trick you or deliver you up to an enemy. Approach, Sire, approach. There are the lights burning in the round pavilion.”

Anyone who has been on a long meditation retreat knows how quiet it can be, even with 100 people there. But Ajātasattu was not used to this way of life.

Once they went through the usual formalities, they had a lengthy exchange about the fruits of the homeless life. And finally Ajātasattu asked the Buddha to accept him as a lay follower. He also confessed what he did to his father:

“Transgression overcame me, Lord, foolish, erring and wicked as I was, in that I for the sake of the throne deprived my father, that good man and just king, of his life. May the Blessed Lord accept my confession of my evil deed that I may restrain myself in future!” - [DN 2.99]

Be Careful How You Give Advice

Of course, a tiger does not change his stripes, and Ajātasattu was certainly a tiger. The story of Ajātasattu and the Vajji republics is a classic case of unintended consequences.

Ajātasattu was a more traditional king than his father Bimbisāra or his uncle Pasenadi. As we just saw he could occasionally have higher aspirations, but in the end he was a king. And kings want to expand their territories and be militarily strong. He may have made his peace with Kosala, but right next door to him were the eight Vajji republics. Ajātasattu decided that he would destroy them:

‘“I will strike the Vajjians who are so powerful and strong, I will cut them off and destroy them, I will bring them to ruin and destruction!” - [DN 16.1]

It was common in those days to ask holy men for their blessing for military campaigns. They also believed that holy men could predict the outcome of military campaigns. Ajātasattu must not have been familiar with the Buddha’s teaching or he would not have made such an odd request. Nonetheless Ajātasattu told his minister Vassakāra to go see the Buddha and get his blessings for the war.

The Buddha had great respect for the Vajjians. He had visited them many times and he knew how they lived together in peace and harmony. In this interchange with Ānanda, which took place in the presence of Vassakāra, he detailed the reasons why the Vajjians thrived. He gave a list of seven principles whereby any community succeeded:

Now the Venerable Ānanda was standing behind the Lord, fanning him. And the Lord said: “Ānanda, have you heard that the Vajjians hold regular and frequent assemblies?”

“I have heard, Lord, that they do.”

1) “Ānanda, as long as the Vajjians hold regular and frequent assemblies, they may be expected to prosper and not decline. Have you heard that the Vajjians meet in harmony, break up in harmony, and carry on their business in harmony?”

“I have heard, Lord, that they do.”

2) “Ānanda, as long as the Vajjians meet in harmony, break up in harmony, and carry on their business in harmony, they may be expected to prosper and not decline.

3) “Have you heard that the Vajjians do not authorize what has not been authorized already, and do not abolish what has been authorized, but proceed according to what has been authorized by their ancient tradition?”

“I have, Lord.”

4) “Have you heard that they honor, respect, revere and salute the elders among them, and consider them worth listening to?...

5) “that they do not forcibly abduct others’ wives and daughters and compel them to live with them?...

6) “that they honor, respect, revere and salute the Vajjian shrines at home and abroad, not withdrawing the proper support made and given before?...

7) “that proper provision is made for the safety of arahants, so that such arahants may come in future to live there, and those already there may dwell in comfort?”

“I have, Lord.”

“Ānanda, so long as such proper provision is made... the Vajjians may be expected to prosper and not decline.”

Then the Lord said to the brahmin Vassakāra: “Once, brahmin, when I was at the Sārandada Shrine in Vesāli, I taught the Vajjians these seven principles for preventing decline, and as long as they keep to these seven principles, as long as these principles remain in force, the Vajjians may be expected to prosper and not decline.” - [DN 16.1.4-1.5]

Unfortunately Vassakāra understood the Buddha all too well:

“Certainly the Vajjians will never be conquered by King Ajātasattu by force of arms, but only by means of propaganda and setting them against one another.” - [DN 16.1.5]

As a result of this discussion with the Buddha, Ajātasattu came up with a new plan. Instead of attacking with the military he sent spies and agitators into the republics. And although it took several years, he was able to undermine the republics and eventually to conquer them.

You can only teach a lesson. You cannot control how it is heard.

King Pasenadi Dies

There was one final piece of political intrigue during the Buddha’s life. It involved his old friend King Pasenadi and his home country of Sakya.

The seeds of this story were sewn many years before. According to the Bhadda-Sālā Jātaka [Ja 465], the Sakyan monks would not eat at King Pasenadi’s palace because no one was friendly to them. This was because there were no members of the King’s retinue who were from Sakya. So King Pasenadi sent word to Kapilavattu that he would like to marry one of the “daughters of Sakya.”

As you may recall Sakya was under the rule of Kosala. And while the political leader of Sakya was a Sakyan, the military ruler was a Kosalan. This was the custom in Kosala. It helped ensure that none of the subject republics would turn their own military forces against Kosala. They were free to run their own civil government while military matters were left to the rulers.

But this also meant that the Sakyans could not easily turn down the King’s request. They did not want to honor it but felt that they had to. Instead of sending someone of royal blood, however, they sent a beautiful and unusually accomplished young slave girl. And so the people of Sakya practiced this deception on King Pasenadi.

King Pasenadi and the slave girl Vāsabhakhattiyā had a son. They named him Viḍūḍabha. But as Viḍūḍabha grew up, he noticed that his mother’s family treated him differently than the other princes’ families. One day he asked his mother about his family:

“Mother, I want to see your father’s family.”

“Don’t speak of it, child,” she said. “What will you do when you get there?” But though she put him off, he asked her again and again. At last his mother said, “Well, go then.” - [Ja 465]

So he went to Sakya. When he got there, the Sakyans continued the deception. But finally he figured out what had happened when another slave told him the truth. She did not try to be tactful, either. She ridiculed him in the process:

Just then a slave woman washed the seat which he had used in the rest-house with milk-water, saying insultingly, “Here’s the seat where sat the son of Vāsabhakhattiyā, the slave girl!”

A man who had left his spear behind was just fetching it, when he overheard the abuse of Prince Viḍūḍabha. He asked what it meant. He was told that Vāsabhakhattiyā was born of a slave to Mahānāma the Sakya. This he told to the soldiers. A great uproar arose, all shouting — “Vāsabhakhattiyā is a slave woman’s daughter, so they say!”

The Prince heard it. “Yes,” thought he, “let them pour milk-water over the seat I sat in, to wash it! When I am king, I will wash the place with their hearts’ blood!”

When King Pasenadi heard about the deception, he cut Vāsabhakhattiyā and Viḍūḍabha off from their allowances. But some days later, the Buddha convinced him to restore them their positions:

Said the Master, “The Sakyas have done wrong, O great King! If they gave any one, they ought to have given a girl of their own blood. But, O King, this I say: Vāsabhakhattiyā is a king’s daughter, and in the house of a noble king she has received the ceremonial sprinkling; Viḍūḍabha too was begotten by a noble king.”

And so the Buddha convinced King Pasenadi to bring them back into the royal household.

This is the first seed that was sewn for future events. The second had to do with an impulsive act on the part of King Pasenadi.

One of King Pasenadi’s generals was a man called “Kārāyana” (also “Dighakārāyana,” or “tall Kārāyana”). Kārāyana’s uncle Bandhula had also been a general to King Pasenadi. Once some judges ruled in his favor in a court case, but the result was that the losers stopped bribing the judges, and they lost their means of support. So in order to get back their bribers’ favor, they decided to turn King Pasenadi against Bandhula. They told the King that Bandhula was “aiming at the kingdom himself.” So King Pasenadi decided to kill Bandhula along with his thirty-two sons. The King sent Bandhula to the frontier to keep any suspicion of foul play from falling upon him. He then sent some men after Bandhula and, indeed, they killed Bandhula and his sons.

King Pasenadi realized later that Bandhula had been falsely accused. He was extremely remorseful. In repentance, he agreed to support Bandhula’s widow and to make their nephew Kārāyana a general in the army.

Shortly after this the King went to see the Buddha:

Ever after the murder of the innocent Bandhula the King was devoured by remorse, and had no peace of mind, felt no joy in being king.

At that time the Master dwelt near a country town of the Sakyas, named Uḷumpa. Thither went the King, pitched a camp not far from the park, and with a few attendants went to the monastery to salute the Master. The five symbols of royalty he handed to Kārāyana, and alone entered the Perfumed Chamber... When he entered the Perfumed Chamber, Kārāyana took those symbols of royalty, and made Viḍūḍabha king; and leaving behind for the King one horse and a serving woman, he went to Sāvathī. - [Ja 456]

Thus Kārāyana stole the symbols of royal authority, and he gave them to Viḍūḍabha, making him the King. Kārāyana and Viḍūḍabha went back to Sāvathī, leaving Pasenadi with only one servant and one horse.

When King Pasenadi came outside from his visit with the Buddha, he discovered what had happened. He traveled to Rājagaha, thinking that he could get help from his nephew Ajātasattu to restore his kingdom. But when he got to Rājagaha, the city gates had already closed for the night. King Pasenadi lay down outside the gates to sleep, and he died that night. When King Ajātasattu found out what happened, he arranged a grand funeral for his uncle. The two of them had come a long way since waging war against each other.

Meanwhile the now King Viḍūḍabha decided to exact revenge on Sakya for its deception, despite the fact that it had all worked very much to his advantage. The Buddha, seeing his plan, tried to intervene:

That day at dawn the Master, looking forth over the world, saw destruction threatening his kin. “I must help my kindred,” thought he. In the forenoon he went in search of alms, then after returning from his meal lay down lion-like in his Perfumed Chamber, and in the evening-time, having passed through the air to a spot near Kapilavattu, sat beneath a tree that gave scanty shade.

Hard by that place, a huge and shady banyan tree stood on the boundary of Viḍūḍabha’s realms. Viḍūḍabha seeing the Master approached and saluting him, said, “Why, Sir, are sitting under so thin a tree in all this heat? Sit beneath this shady banyan, Sir.”

He replied, “Let be, O King! The shade of my kindred keeps me cool.”

“The Master,” thought the other, “must have come here to protect his clansmen.” So he saluted the Master, and returned again to Sāvathī. And the Master rising went to Jetavana.

A second time the King called to mind his grudge against the Sakyas, a second time he set forth, and again saw the Master seated in the same place, then again returned. A fourth time he set out; and the Master, scanning the former deeds of the Sakyas, perceived that nothing could do away with the effect of their evildoing, in casting poison into the river; so he did not go thither the fourth time. Then King Viḍūḍabha slew all the Sakyas, beginning with babes at the breast, and with their hearts’ blood washed the bench, and returned. - [Ja 465]

This distressingly neutral story cannot reflect what it must have been like for the Buddha to see his childhood city and all of its occupants killed.

The remaining Sakyan people did, however, build a new city, one that they also named Kapilavattu. We still do not know the city’s location. There are two contending sites, one in Nepal and one in India. There is some national pride involved. Nepal would like to claim credit for the site of Kapilavattu, as would India. The site in India has a stupa in which there are remains of the Buddha’s ashes. This leads to speculation that the site in Nepal is the old Kapilavattu that was destroyed by King Viḍūḍabha, and the site in India is the new Kapilavattu.

In any event, the city in which the Buddha was born and raised, the city that gave birth to and that nurtured the future Buddha, was destroyed, and all of its citizens were dead.

The Greatest Generation

[Ānanda:] “Venerable sir, this is half of the holy life, that is, good friendship, good companionship, good comradeship.”

[Buddha:] “Not so, Ānanda! Not so, Ānanda! This is the entire holy life, Ānanda, that is, good friendship, good companionship, good comradeship. When a bhikkhu has a good friend, a good companion, a good comrade, it is to be expected that he will develop and cultivate the Noble Eightfold Path.” - [SN 45.2]

The Buddha was now nearing the end of his life. Many of his friends and supporters were already gone. King Bimbisāra and King Pasenadi were both victims of patricide. Starting with King Bimbisāra, five of the next six kings of Magadha would be killed by their sons. Curiously, Ajātasattu was not one of them.

Queen Mallika was also dead. Because she had committed an act of sexual indiscretion, despite her virtue she was reborn in hell. But because of her virtue, she was only there for seven days, after which she was reborn in the Tusita heaven. After she died King Pasenadi was concerned for her welfare, and wanted the Buddha to tell him where she had been reborn. But the Buddha distracted him for those seven days, after which he could safely tell him where Mallika had been reborn. The King responded:

“Where else could she be reborn? She was always thinking of doing good deeds. Venerable Sir! Now that she is gone, I, your humble disciple, hardly know what to do.” - [DhpA iii, 119-123]

The Buddha responded about the inevitability of death, and that the only true refuge was the Dharma:

“Even royal chariots rot,

the body too does rot, decay,

but undecaying’s Dhamma of the Good

who to the good declare.”

- [Dhp 151]

Anāthapiṇḍika was also dead. It was his great good fortune that both Sāriputta and Ānanda attended him at the end. Sāriputta gave him a lovely discourse, the “Anāthapiṇḍikovāda Sutta: Advice to Anāthapiṇḍika” [MN 143], on non-attachment. Anāthapiṇḍika was very moved by this teaching:

When this was said, the householder Anāthapiṇḍika wept and shed tears. Then the venerable Ānanda asked him: “Are you foundering, householder, are you sinking?”

“I am not foundering, venerable Ānanda, I am not sinking. But although I have long waited upon the Teacher and bhikkhus worthy of esteem, never before have I heard such a talk on the Dhamma.” - [MN 143.15]

Ānanda told him that this teaching was not normally given to lay people. Anāthapiṇḍika implored Ānanda to do so:

“Well then, venerable Sāriputta, let such talk on the Dhamma be given to lay people clothed in white. There are clansmen with little dust in their eyes who are wasting away through not hearing [such talk on] the Dhamma. There will be those who will understand the Dhamma.” - [MN 143.15]

After Sāriputta and Ānanda left, Anāthapiṇḍika, the great benefactor of the Saṇgha, died:

Then, after giving the householder Anāthapiṇḍika this advice, the venerable Sāriputta and the venerable Ānanda rose from their seats and departed. Soon after they had left, the householder Anāthapiṇḍika died and reappeared in the Tusita heaven. - [MN 143.15]

Rāhula died about four years before the Buddha did. He was 50 years old. He had received the greatest inheritance that any son could, freedom from suffering.

Some benefactors of the Buddha continued. Visākhā and Ānanda lived to the age of 120. (The number “120” may be one of those relative terms, like “500,” simply indicating that they were very old.)

When the Buddha was staying at Jetavana, Sāriputta’s younger brother Cunda came to visit him. He gave the Buddha the news that Sāriputta had died. Ānanda was particularly distraught. The Buddha gave Ānanda some particularly compassionate but poignant advice:

[Ānanda] “Venerable sir, since I heard that the Venerable Sāriputta has attained final nibbāna, my body seems as if it has been drugged, I have become disoriented, the teachings are no longer clear to me.”

“Why, Ānanda, when Sāriputta attained final nibbāna, did he take away your aggregate of virtue, or your aggregate of concentration, or your aggregate of wisdom, or your aggregate of liberation, or your aggregate of the knowledge and vision of liberation?”

“No, he did not, venerable sir. But for me the Venerable Sāriputta was an advisor and counselor, one who instructed, exhorted, inspired, and gladdened me. He was unwearying in teaching the Dhamma; he was helpful to his brothers in the holy life. We recollect the nourishment of Dhamma, the wealth of Dhamma, the help of Dhamma given by the Venerable Sāriputta.”

“But have I not already declared, Ānanda, that we must be parted, separated, and severed from all who are dear and agreeable to us? How, Ānanda, is it to be obtained here: ‘May what is born, come to be, conditioned, and subject to disintegration not disintegrate!’? That is impossible. It is just as if the largest branch would break off a great tree standing possessed of heartwood. So too, Ānanda, in the great Bhikkhu Saṇgha standing possessed of heartwood, Sāriputta has attained final nibbāna. How, Ānanda, is it to be obtained here?

“May what is born, come to be, conditioned, and subject to disintegration not disintegrate? That is impossible.

“Therefore, Ānanda, dwell with yourselves as your own island, with yourselves as your own refuge, with no other refuge; dwell with the Dhamma as your island, with the Dhamma as your refuge, with no other refuge… Those bhikkhus, Ānanda, either now or after I am gone, who dwell with themselves as their own island, with themselves as their own refuge, with no other refuge; who dwell with the Dhamma as their island, with the Dhamma as their refuge, with no other refuge - it is these bhikkhus, Ānanda, who will be for me topmost of those keen on the training.” - [SN 47.II.3]

The word translated here as “island” is the Pāli word “dipa.” It also means “lamp.” This passage works equally well either way. Be a lamp unto yourself. Be an island, a refuge unto yourself. The Buddha may have once again used the double meaning of a word to poetic effect.

In this particularly beautiful passage we see Ānanda’s reverence for Sāriputta. But the Buddha gently reminded Ānanda that this is the way of the world. Sāriputta’s “attaining final nibbāna” did not deprive Ānanda of any of the merit he had gained through his own efforts. The Buddha urged Ānanda to be “his own island,” to be a refuge for himself, and to use the Dharma as a refuge. This is one of the most famous passages in Buddhism.

Moggallāna died about a month later. Rival samaṇas hired an assassin to murder him. Moggallāna had been so effective as a teacher that he kept attracting followers away from the other sects, and so they had him killed [Ja 522].

A short time later the Buddha paid homage to his chief disciples in a discourse to the monks:

“Bhikkhus, this assembly appears to me empty now that Sāriputta and Moggallāna have attained final nibbāna. This assembly was not empty for me [earlier], and I had no concern for whatever quarter Sāriputta and Moggallāna were dwelling in.” - [SN 47.II.4]

He compared their loss to a tree that has lost its largest branches. But he also said that the tree still had its heartwood, and the tree would continue to thrive:

“It is just as if the largest branches would break off a great tree standing possessed of heartwood: so too, bhikkhus, is the great Bhikkhu Saṇgha standing possessed of heartwood...” - [SN 47.II.4]

The Great Passing

The “Māhaparinibbāna Sutta: The Great Passing” [DN 16] tells the story of the end of the Buddha’s life. It is a lengthy sutta, so long that it has six “recitation sections.” This means that it is about the same length as six discourses.

It is a problematical sutta in that it is clear, even to the relatively untrained eye, that a great deal of material was pushed into it. Dr. Andrew Olendzki calls it a “cut-and-paste job.” But if you read this sutta in the context of the entire Pāli Canon, you can tease out the true parts of the story.

I will start by dismissing some rather obvious passages. The first is a conversation between Sāriputta and the Buddha at Nālandā. But we know, as previously documented, that Sāriputta was already dead.

The second curious passage is a misogynistic discussion between the Buddha and Ānanda. It is out of place in its context, which is just before the Buddha dies:

“Lord, how should we act towards women?”

“Do not see them, Ānanda.”

“But if we see them, how should we behave, Lord?”

“Do not speak to them, Ānanda.”

“But if they speak to us, Lord, how should we behave?”

“Practice mindfulness, Ānanda.” - [DN 16.5.9]

These types of passages occur from time to time in the Pāli Canon, which points out what a hot button issue the ordination of women was then. This is particular striking in the Aṇguttara Nikāya:

Among the four Nikāyas, AN [Aṇguttara Nikāya] has the largest number of suttas addressed to women, but a small number of discourses in the collection testify to a misogynistic attitude that strikes us as discordant, distasteful, and simply unjustified. These texts depict women as driven by powerful passions that impair their abilities and undermine their morals. At 2:61, the Buddha declares that women are never satiated in two things: sexual intercourse and giving birth. When Ānanda asks why women do not sit on councils, engage in business, or travel to distant regions, the Buddha answers that this is because they are full of anger, envious, miserly, and devoid of wisdom (4:80). Two suttas compare women to a black snake (5: 229–30) in that they are “wrathful, hostile, of deadly venom, double-tongued, and betray friends.”

- [Bhikkhu Bodhi, The Numerical Discourses of the Buddha, Introduction]

But as with the passage in the Māhaparinibbāna Sutta, these texts are inconsistent with the rest of the Canon:

Quite in contrast to the suttas with a misogynistic tone are others that show the Buddha acting cordially toward women and generously bestowing his teaching upon them. He teaches the lay devotee Visākhā how the uposatha observance can be of great fruit and benefit (3:70, 8:43). He teaches Suppavāsā the merits of giving food (4:57)… He explains to Visākhā how a woman is heading to victory both in this world and the next (8:49). He extols the bhikkhunīs Khemā and Uppalavaṇṇā as models for his bhikkhunī followers and the female lay devotees Khujjuttarā and Veḷukaṇṭakī Nandamātā as models for his female lay disciples (4:176). It is hard to reconcile such texts, which display a friendly and empathetic attitude toward women, with the passages that categorically denigrate their capacities.

- [Bhikkhu Bodhi, The Numerical Discourses of the Buddha, Introduction]

In the same vein, there is one of the most curious stories in the Canon. According to the sutta, the Buddha hinted to Ānanda that if he wanted to the Buddha could live to be a hundred years old. The implication is that if Ānanda asked him to do so, the Buddha would simply make that happen. Ānanda, not taking the hint, did not ask. This is a not-so-subtle way of accusing Ānanda of making the Buddha die twenty years too soon.

The first thing that is problematical with this story is that we have already seen that the Buddha was quite ill. He was the “old cart being held together with straps” [MN 16.2.25]. We would say “hanging on by a thread.” So practically for the Buddha to say that he would live another twenty years is unlikely.

Figure: Hot springs in modern-day Rajgir where the Buddha sought relief from his aging body.

The more plausible explanation for this story is that it was added to discredit Ānanda. There was a lot of jealousy of Ānanda because of his privileged position with the Buddha. And of course Ānanda had lobbied for women to be ordained. As previously discussed the ordination of women has always been unpopular, and that is true even today. You can imagine how the monks felt about it 2500 years ago. So here, I among others, argue that this is an apocryphal story added to disparage poor Ānanda.

It is a shame that the Māhaparinibbāna Sutta has become so mangled over the years because it is unique in many ways. It covers one of the most important times in the Buddha’s life, his “parinibbāna” (“final nibbāna”).

When one attains nirvāṇa/nibbāna, there is still karma to be worked out. Until that happens the person continues to suffer the unavoidable stress of life, such as physical pain. Only when that karma is worked out will an arahant attain a state completely free of suffering. This is “parinibbāna” (Pāli, Sanskrit: parinirvāṇa). So Buddhists do not speak about the death of a Buddha or an arahant. They call it “parinibbāna,” the final end to suffering.

The Journey

One of the unique things about the Māhaparinibbāna Sutta is that it is mainly biographical. Normally we only get biographical information in the context of a Dharma teaching, although there are some chronologies in the Vinaya. In the Māhaparinibbāna Sutta the intent seems clearly to give an account of the end of his life.

The sutta starts at Rājagāha on Vulture Peak. This is when the Buddha gave his ill-fated advice to the brahmin Vassakāra about the Vajjians.

From there he proceeded as follows:

And when the Lord had stayed at Rājagāha as long as he wished, he said to the Venerable Ānanda: “Come, Ānanda, let us go to Ambalatthikā.”

“Very good, Lord,” said Ānanda, and the Lord went there with a large company of monks.

And the Lord stayed in the royal park at Ambalatthikā, and there he delivered a comprehensive discourse: “This is morality, this is concentration, this is wisdom...”

Having stayed at Ambalatthikā as long as he wished, the Lord said to Ānanda: “Let us go to Nalanda,” and they did so. At Nalanda the Lord stayed in Pāvārikaʹs mango-grove. - [DN 16.1.13-1.15]

This passage sets the tone for how the Buddha taught in the last year of his life. At the beginning of his teaching career, he taught the graduated discourse. But now his teaching had evolved and matured. Here he gave the formula: morality, concentration, and wisdom. A later commentarial work, The Visuddhimagga (Path of Purification), used the image of a pyramid. Generosity is the ground, virtue is the first layer of the pyramid, concentration is the second layer, and the peak of the pyramid is wisdom.

In this passage we see the Buddha and his followers going to Nālandā. Nālandā was Sāriputta’s boyhood home, and he may have gone there to honor him.

When Sāriputta was growing up Nālandā was a tiny village. After he died, the residents built a large stupa to honor him. That stupa became the centerpiece for Nalanda University, the largest Buddhist University in India in the first millennium CE. At one time there were 10,000 monks at Nalanda.

Figure: Sāriputta’s stupa at Nalanda University

Next up was Pāṭaligāma, which is modern day Patna.

Ajātasattu had decided to move the capital of Magadha from Rājagāha to this new location. When the Buddha visited it the city was being renovated and expanded, and Ajātasattu was fortifying its defenses. There were many lay followers of the Buddha there, and he inspired them by giving a Dharma talk late into the night. These lay followers included two of Ajātasattu’s ministers, Sunidha and Vassākara. (It is not clear if this is the same Vassākara who decided to conspire against the Vajjians. They seem to be different people.) They invited the Saṇgha for a meal the next day. After that meal they decided that whichever city gate the Buddha left by, they would name the “Gotama gate.”

The Buddha predicted that the newly renovated Pāṭaligāma would have a golden age, but then would fall into decline due to “flooding, fire and feuds”:

“Ānanda, as far as the Ariyan realm extends, as far as its trade extends, this will be the chief city, Pāṭaliputta, scattering its seeds far and wide. And Pātaliputta will face three perils: from fire, from water and from internal dissension.” - [DN 16.1.28]

And that is pretty much the history of Patna. Modern day Patna is an impoverished and dangerous place. Any building of note, even a private residence, has a wall around it topped with barbed wire. Patna fell a long way from being the largest and wealthiest city in India.

Next the Buddha traveled to Koṭigāma. There again he gave his Dharma talk on morality, concentration, and wisdom.

On they traveled to Nādikā. There was an amusing exchange here between Ānanda and the Buddha. There were a number of monks and nuns who died in Nādikā, and Ānanda started asking the Buddha where each of them was reborn. There is an annoying, child-like quality to Ānanda’s questioning. The Buddha answered many of his questions, but finally “grew weary” of the pestering. The Buddha finally gave the criteria for each type of rebirth, so Ānanda could determine their place of rebirth:

“Ānanda, it is not remarkable that that which has come to be as a man should die. But that you should come to the Tathāgata to ask the fate of each of those who have died, that is a weariness to him. Therefore, Ānanda, I will teach you a way of knowing Dhamma, called the Mirror of Dhamma, whereby the Ariyan disciple, if he so wishes, can discern of himself: ‘I have destroyed hell, animal-rebirth, the realm of ghosts, all downfall, evil fates and sorry states. I am a Stream-Winner, incapable of falling into states of woe, certain of attaining nibbāna.’” - [DN 16.2.8]

Then the Buddha gave a Dharma talk on the same criteria as before: morality, concentration, and wisdom.

Then they went to Vesāli. There he gave a talk to the monks on the Four Foundations of Mindfulness. This is the only talk on his farewell tour that did not follow the themes of morality, concentration, and wisdom.

There is an anecdote here about a courtesan named Ambapālī. When Ambapālī was born she was abandoned and found at the foot of a mango tree in one of the royal gardens in Vesāli. The name “Ambapālī” is derived from a two Pāli words: one means “mango” and the other “young leaves or sprouts.”

Her son was one of the Buddha’s monks. She went out to meet the Buddha and invited him for a meal the next day. The Licchavis (citizens of Vesāli) were miffed that she beat them to the punch. Providing a meal for the Buddha was a high honor, and they tried to bribe the meal away from her:

“Ambapālī, give up this meal for a hundred thousand pieces!”

“Young sirs, if you were to give me all Vesāli with its revenues I would not give up such an important meal!”

Then the Licchavis snapped their fingers, saying: “We’ve been beaten by the mango-woman, we’ve been cheated by the mango-woman!” - [DN 16.2.16]

Once again, here at Vesāli, the Buddha gave a discourse on the topics of morality, concentration, and wisdom.

One reason that it is important to point out the themes of the Buddha’s teaching is because in modern-day practice we hear a lot about mindfulness. But in the Buddha’s original system of teaching, it is concentration that takes center stage. Mindfulness is a tool that is used to attain right concentration, which the Buddha defined as jhāna, or meditative absorption. Once the meditator can attain jhāna, the concentration is used to attain insight (wisdom).

The Buddha next went to the village of Beluva. He wanted to spend his final rains retreat here by himself with only Ānanda in attendance, so he sent the other monks away.

There are many times in the last decade of the Buddha’s life where it is clear that his health was failing. In his discussion with Ajātasattu, the King found the Buddha leaning up against a tree because he had a bad back. In Beluva he once again became quite ill:

And during the Rains the Lord was attacked by a severe sickness, with sharp pains as if he were about to die. But he endured all this mindfully, clearly aware and without complaining. He thought, “It is not fitting that I should attain final nibbāna without addressing my followers and taking leave of the order of monks. I must hold this disease in check by energy and apply myself to the force of life.” He did so, and the disease abated. - [DN 16.2.23]

Ānanda was increasingly concerned about the Buddha’s health. He was almost equally concerned about what would happen to the Saṇgha once the Buddha died. Ānanda apparently still expected the Buddha to name a successor. But just as he did when rebuking Devadatta, the Buddha refused to do this. Instead, he said, the Dharma will be their guide:

Then the Venerable Ānanda came to him, saluted him, sat down to one side and said: “Lord, I have seen the Lord in comfort, and I have seen the Lord’s patient enduring. And, Lord, my body was like a drunkard’s. I lost my bearings and things were unclear to me because of the Lord’s sickness. The only thing that was some comfort to me was the thought: ‘The Lord will not attain final nibbāna until he has made some statement about the order of monks.’”

“But, Ānanda, what does the order of monks expect of me? I have taught the Dhamma, Ānanda, making no ‘inner and outer.’ The Tathāgata has no ‘teacher’s fist’ in respect of doctrines. If there is anyone who thinks: ‘I shall take charge of the order,’ or ‘The order should refer to me,’ let him make some statement about the order, but the Tathāgata does not think in such terms. So why should the Tathāgata make a statement about the order?

“Ānanda, I am now old, worn out, venerable, one who has traversed life’s path, I have reached the term of life, which is eighty. Just as an old cart is made to go by being held together with straps, so the Tathāgata’s body is kept going by being strapped up. It is only when the Tathāgata withdraws his attention from outward signs, and by the cessation of certain feelings, enters into the signless concentration of mind, that his body knows comfort.

“Therefore, Ānanda, you should live as islands unto yourselves, being your own refuge, with no one else as your refuge, with the Dhamma as an island, with the Dhamma as your refuge, with no other refuge. And how does a monk live as an island unto himself,... with no other refuge? Here, Ānanda, a monk abides contemplating the body as body, earnestly, clearly aware, mindful and having put away all hankering and fretting for the world, and likewise with regard to feelings, mind and mind-objects. That, Ānanda, is how a monk lives as an island unto himself,... with no other refuge. And those who now in my time or afterwards live thus, they will become the highest, if they are desirous of learning.” - [DN 16.2.24-26]

This is a rather impassioned speech, if the word “impassioned” can be used with a Buddha. First Ānanda showed his despair and his concern for the future of the Saṇgha. Then the Buddha said that he had already done everything that he could, that there were no secret teachings, no “teacher’s fist” (something held in a clenched fist like a hidden coin), that he had not hidden anything from anyone.

The aging Buddha described his failing body as an “old cart… being held together with straps.” Only by entering into a state of high concentration, the “signless concentration,” could he find any comfort. But his meaning is clear. There would be no power brokering. Their teacher would be the Dharma, what he had taught.

And here again, the Buddha repeated this poetic passage, his exhortation to Ānanda and to all Buddhist practitioners, “…you should live as islands unto yourselves, being your own refuge, with no one else as your refuge, with the Dhamma as an island, with the Dhamma as your refuge, with no other refuge.”

Next the Buddha gave a lengthy and poetic talk about his life. There is one interesting detail in his summary. Some later schools of Buddhism claimed that the Buddha was already enlightened before he was born. But here the Buddha says clearly that he was born as a Bodhisatta:

“Again, when the Bodhisatta emerges from his mother’s womb, mindful and clearly aware, then the earth shudders and shakes and violently quakes…

“…when the Tathāgata gains unsurpassed enlightenment, then the earth shudders and shakes and violently quakes…” - [DN 16.3.16]

Thus one is born as a Bodhisatta, and only later attains awakening, “unsurpassed enlightenment.”

The Buddha then recounted a conversation that he had with Māra:

“And just now, today, Ānanda, at the Cāpāla Shrine, Māra came to me, stood to one, side and said: ‘Lord, may the Blessed Lord now attain final nibbāna... Now is the time for the Blessed Lord’s final nibbāna.’

“And I said: ‘You need not worry, Evil One. Three months from now the Tathāgata will take final nibbāna.’ So now, today, Ānanda, at the Cāpāla Shrine, the Tathāgata has mindfully and in full awareness renounced the life-principle.” - [DN 16.3.8-9]

It is interesting that the Buddha had this conversation with Māra. In the West we usually equate Māra with the Devil, but the Western Devil is a black-and-white, evil being. Māra is more complicated than that. In the Buddhist cosmology all beings have good and bad karma. This is true for Māra as well. And just as beings are born and reborn into different realms, this is true for Māra. Being Māra, or Brahmā or any other being is your current incarnation. Eventually you move on and someone takes over for you. Being Māra or Brahmā is a job. There are times in the Canon when Māra shows great respect for the Buddha.

The Buddha gathered together the monks at Vesāli, and gave them some final instructions:

Then the Lord said to the monks: “And now, monks, I declare to you — all conditioned things are of a nature to decay — strive on untiringly. The Tathāgata’s final passing will not be long delayed. Three months from now the Tathāgata will take his final nibbāna.”

Thus the Lord spoke. The Well-Farer having thus spoken, the Teacher said this:

“Ripe I am in years. My life-span’s determined.

Now I go from you, having made myself my refuge.

Monks, be untiring, mindful, disciplined,

Guarding your minds with well-collected thought.

“He who, tireless, keeps to law and discipline,

Leaving birth behind will put an end to woe.”

- [DN 16.3.51]

The Buddha had a particular fondness for Vesāli. He often spoke highly of the city and its residents. And as the Buddha left Vesāli he turned around and took one final look:

Then the Lord, having risen early and dressed, took his robe and bowl and went into Vesāli for alms. Having returned from the alms-round and eaten, he looked back at Vesāli with his elephant-look and said: “Ānanda, this is the last time the Tathāgata will look upon VesālI. Now we will go to Bhandagāma.” - [DN 16.4.1]

An “elephant-look” means that he turned around completely to face the city. An elephant cannot turn its head to see behind it, so it has to turn around. Thus the Buddha turned around fully out of respect and faced the city of Vesāli for the last time.

Bhandagāma and Bhoganagara

His next stops were the towns of Bhandagāma and Bhoganagara. Here he gave a Dharma talk that became important in later Buddhist developments. In a number of his final talks it is clear that he was emphasizing the most important things for people to remember after he is gone. So far we have seen him repeat the formula for practice: morality, concentration, and wisdom.

But the Buddha must know that there will be questions about whether something is a true teaching of the Buddha. Even during his life monks misunderstood and misrepresented the Dharma. So at Bhoganagara he gave instructions about how to tell if a teaching is true Dharma:

“Suppose a monk were to say: ‘Friends, I heard and received this from the Lord’s own lips: this is the Dhamma, this is the discipline, this is the Master’s teaching,’ then, monks, you should neither approve nor disapprove his words. Then, without approving or disapproving, his words and expressions should be carefully noted and compared with the Suttas and reviewed in the light of the discipline. If they, on such comparison and review, are found not to conform to the Suttas or the discipline, the conclusion must be: ‘Assuredly this is not the word of the Buddha, it has been wrongly understood by this monk,’ and the matter is to be rejected. But where on such comparison and review they are found to conform to the Suttas or the discipline, the conclusion must be: ‘Assuredly this is the word of the Buddha, it has been rightly understood by this monk.’ This is the first criterion.

“Suppose a monk were to say: ‘In such and such a place there is a community with elders and distinguished teachers. I have heard and received this from that community,’ then, monks, you should neither approve nor disapprove his words... That is the second criterion.

“Suppose a monk were to say: ‘In such and such a place there are many elders who are learned, bearers of the tradition, who know the Dhamma, the discipline, the code of rules...’ This is the third criterion.

“Suppose a monk were to say: ‘In such and such a place there is one elder who is learned ... I have heard and received this from that elder...’ But where on such comparison and review they are found to conform to the Suttas and the discipline, then the conclusion must be: ‘Assuredly this is the word of the Buddha, it has been rightly understood by this monk.’” - [DN 16.4.8-11]

This passage was later used to sanction new discourses, ones composed as late as the mid-first millennium CE. These are the Mahāyāna discourses. A monk had only to claim that a discourse conformed to the “Dharma and Discipline” for it to be the word of the Buddha. As you can imagine, they took some liberties. These newer discourses are a source of conflict in the Buddhist community to this day.

This is why sutta study and Vinaya study are important parts of the practice. It is easy to take something out of context. Only by studying the Canon can you see the whole contex and know passages that are not consistent with the whole. I am not suggesting that all of the Mahāyāna discourses are not teachings of the Buddha, simply that you must evaluate them based on the earliest discourses.

Cunda the Smith

The Buddha and a “large company” left Bhoganagara and traveled to the town of Pāvā, where they stayed at the mango grove of “Cunda the Smith.” When Cunda discovered that the Buddha and his monks were staying in his mango grove, he was quite excited. He went to greet them, and the Buddha “instructed, inspired, fired and delighted him with a talk on Dharma.” After the Dharma talk, Cunda said, “May the Lord accept a meal from me tomorrow with his order of monks!” The Buddha agreed [DN 16.4.13-15].

So the next day the Buddha and his monks went to Cunda’s house where Cunda prepared a meal of “pig’s delight.” No one knows exactly what “pig’s delight” is. The most common guess is that it was some king of pork. But whatever it was, the Buddha had a curious reaction to it. He ate it himself but he told Cunda not to feed it to anyone else:

Then the Lord, having dressed in the morning, took his robe and bowl and went with his order of monks to Cunda’s dwelling, where he sat down on the prepared seat and said: “Serve the pig’s delight that has been prepared to me, and serve the remaining hard and soft food to the order of monks.”

“Very good, Lord,” said Cunda, and did so.

The the Lord said to Cunda: “Whatever is left over of the pig’s delight you should bury in a pit, because, Cunda, I can see none in this world with its devas, māras and Brahmās, in this generation with its ascetics and brahmins, its princes and people who, if they were to eat it, could thoroughly digest it except the Tathāgata.” - [DN 16.4.18-19]

The Buddha almost instantly became gravely ill. He was “attacked by a severe sickness with bloody diarrhea, and with sharp pains as if he were about to die” [DN 16.4.20]. Despite this severe illness, the Buddha told Ānanda that it was time to go to Kusinārā (Kushinigar).

This was the Buddha’s last meal, and he never recovered from it. The trip to Kushinigar must have been extremely difficult for him. But the Buddha went out of his way to absolve Cunda from any blame. In fact, he said that Cunda had done him a great favor, and that serving the Buddha his last meal would bring Cunda great merit. This is what he told Ānanda that he should tell Cunda:

“‘That is your merit, Cunda, that is your good deed, that the Tathāgata gained final nibbāna after taking his last meal from you! For, friend Cunda, I have heard and understood from the Lord’s own lips that these two alms-givings are of very great fruit, of very great result, more fruitful and advantageous than any other. Which two? The one is the alms-giving after eating which the Tathāgata attains supreme enlightenment, the other that after which he attains the nibbāna-element without remainder at his final passing. These two alms-givings are more fruitful and profitable than all others. Cunda’s deed is conducive to long life, to good looks, to happiness, to fame, to heaven and to lordship.’ In this way, Ānanda, Cunda’s remorse is to be expelled.”

Then the Lord, having settled this matter, at that time uttered this verse:

“By giving, merit grows, by restraint, hatred’s checked.

He who’s skilled abandons evil things.

As greed, hate and folly wane, nibbāna’s gained.”

- [DN 16.4.42-43]

It is possible that the Buddha was simply so old and ill that he welcomed “death by pig’s delight.” Or perhaps he knew ahead of time what was going to happen. In any case, the Buddha went out of his way to absolve poor Cunda from any blame and to tell Cunda that his meal brought him great merit.

Kushinigar

Kushinigar was something of a one-horse town. It did not seem like a very fitting place for the Buddha to die, and Ānanda said as much. But the Buddha told Ānanda that once this had been a great city with a “wheel-turning monarch,” so it was an appropriate place for his final nibbāna. A “wheel-turning monarch” is the Indian version of King Arthur, a king who is unusually noble, just, and wise.

At one point the Buddha told Ānanda that he was too sick to continue. He wanted to lay down and drink some water from a nearby stream. The stream was muddy and contaminated “from the wheels of 500 hundred passing carts.” Ānanda told the Buddha that they should continue to the river where the water was pure. But the Buddha insisted, so finally Ānanda agreed. When he brought the water back to the Buddha it suddenly cleared and became pure.

A man named “Pukkusa” came upon the Buddha and his companions along the road. Pukkusa had been a student of the Buddha’s first teacher, Āḷāra Kalama. But when Pukkusa saw the Buddha’s radiance and serenity, he was so impressed that he rejected the teaching of Āḷāra Kalama:

At this, Pukkusa the Malla said: “Lord, I reject the lofty powers of Āḷāra Kalama as if they were blown away by a mighty wind or carried off by a swift stream or river!” - [DN 16.4.34]

To honor the Buddha and Ānanda, Pukkusa sent someone to bring them two sets of golden robes. Ānanda put one of the robes on the dying Buddha. But even the golden robes “appeared dull” next to the radiant skin of the Buddha:

[Buddha] “There are two occasions on which the Tathāgata’s skin appears especially clear and bright. Which are they? One is the night in which the Tathāgata gains supreme enlightenment; the other is the night when he attains the nibbāna-element without remainder at his final passing. On these two occasions the Tathāgata’s skin appears especially clear and bright.

“Tonight, Ānanda, in the last watch, in the sāl-grove of the Mallas near Kusinārā, between two sāl-trees, the Tathāgata’s final passing will take place. And now, Ānanda, let us go to the River Kakutthā.”

“Very good, Lord,” said Ānanda.

Two golden robes were Pukkusa’s offering: Brighter shone the Teacher’s body than its dress. - [DN 16.4.37]

The “nibbāna-element without remainder” is final nibbāna, “parinibbāna,” the end to all suffering.

Some people find Buddhism rather self-centered, which is curious for a religion that teaches non-self. But as we have seen, the Buddhist path has two qualities inextricably woven together. One is the cultivation of the mind, and that is based on a ground of generosity and virtue. The other is the good that such a mind does in the world. The cultivated mind is more skillful, wiser, more compassionate, and more loving. It is also one that does less mischief. We often do tremendous harm in a misguided attempt to do good.

But once you attain parinibbāna, there is the question of what happens to you. The Buddha does not address this issue, other than to assure us that it is worth it:

“Bhikkhus, suppose there were a man with a life span of a hundred years, who could live a hundred years. Someone would say to him: ‘Come, good man, in the morning they will strike you with a hundred spears; at noon they will strike you with a hundred spears; in the evening they will strike you with a hundred spears. And you, good man, being struck day after day by three hundred spears will have a life span of a hundred years, will live a hundred years; and then, after a hundred years have passed, you will make the breakthrough to the Four Noble Truths, to which you had not broken through earlier.

“It is fitting, bhikkhus, for a clansman intent on his good to accept the offer.” – [SN 56.35]

The great 20th century nun Ayya Khema, who most people think was an arahant, also suggested that when you attain parinibbāna you enter a dimension that exists beyond space and time, one of goodness, one that benefits all beings. The whole universe becomes a slightly better place. Something like that is certainly consistent with the altruistic nature of the Buddha’s path.

The Buddha was now preparing for the “supreme enlightenment” and he was somewhat uncharacteristically wearing Pukkusa’s fine golden robes.

They went over to the grove of Sāl trees, where the Buddha lay down:

There the Lord said: “Ānanda, prepare me a bed between these twin sāl-trees with my head to the north. I am tired and want to lie down.”

“Very good, Lord,” said Ānanda, and did so.

Then the Lord lay down on his right side in the lion-posture, placing one foot on the other, mindful and clearly aware.

And those twin sāl-trees burst forth into an abundance of untimely blossoms, which fell upon the Tathāgata’s body, sprinkling it and covering it in homage. Divine coral-tree flowers fell from the sky, divine sandal-wood powder fell from the sky, sprinkling and covering the Tathāgata’s body in homage. Divine music and song sounded from the sky in homage to the Tathāgata. - [DN 16.4.51-52]

The “lion’s posture” is one of the iconic poses in Buddhism. There have been monks through the centuries who only slept in this posture as part of their practice to honor the Buddha. And so he was lying there, between two Sal trees, wearing golden robes.

Figure: Statue of the dying Buddha in the lion’s posture at Kushinigar

As he lay there he told his monks that there are four places that a devout follower should strive to see during a lifetime:

“Ānanda, there are four places the sight of which should arouse emotion in the faithful. Which are they?

“‘Here the Tathāgata was born’ is the first. [Lumbini]

“‘Here the Tathāgata attained supreme enlightenment’ is the second. [Bodh Gaya]

“‘Here the Tathāgata set in motion the Wheel of Dhamma’ is the third. [Sarnath]

“‘Here the Tathāgata attained the nibbāna-element without remainder’ is the fourth. [Kushinigar]

“And, Ānanda, the faithful monks and nuns, male and female lay-followers will visit those places. And any who die while making the pilgrimage to these shrines with a devout heart will, at the breaking-up of the body after death, be reborn in a heavenly world.” - [DN 16.5.8]

When I went to India on pilgrimage, the leader of our trip told us this story, and also told us how a few years before someone had, indeed, died on pilgrimage. Far from being a tragedy, they saw it as a great blessing.

I always thought this was a curious passage. The Buddha did not normally encourage people to do conventional religious acts such as pilgrimage. Indeed, the Buddha taught that the attachment to rites and rituals is a “fetter” that must be overcome to attain stream-entry. This “fetter” had particular significance in a country where the Vedic religion relied completely on rites and rituals as its foundation. So it is possible that this is a later addition. But the modern day tourist industry is glad that it is there, and indeed, my own trip to India was truly inspirational. It is an amazing experience to go to all the places where the Buddha lived, died, and taught.

Next he gave instructions on what to do with his remains. He did this in two parts. The first part was instructions to his monks. He told them not to be concerned with his remains, but to devote their energy to the practice:

“Lord, what shall we do with the Tathāgata’s remains?”

“Do not worry yourselves about the funeral arrangements, Ānanda. You should strive for the highest goal, devote yourselves to the highest goal, and dwell with your minds tirelessly, zealously devoted to the highest goal. There are wise khattiyas [kṣatriyas], brahmins and householders who are devoted to the Tathāgata: they will take care of the funeral.” - [DN 16.5.10]

But to the lay people he gave specific instructions. In brief, he told them to treat his body as they would a wheel-turning monarch.

Ānanda was quite distraught. Remember, he was not yet an arahant. He was only a stream-enterer. He had not completed the path to the end of stress and suffering. But just as he did when Sāriputta died, the Buddha gently admonished him:

And the Lord said: “Enough, Ānanda, do not weep and wail! Have I not already told you that all things that are pleasant and delightful are changeable, subject to separation and becoming other? So how could it be, Ānanda — since whatever is born, become, compounded is subject to decay — how could it be that it should not pass away? For a long time, Ānanda, you have been in the Tathāgata’s presence, showing loving-kindness in acts of body, speech and mind, beneficially, blessedly, whole-heartedly and unstintingly. You have achieved much merit, Ānanda. Make the effort, and in a short time you will be free of the corruptions.” - [DN 16.5.14]

Everyone dies.

But then the Buddha praised Ānanda to the other monks. Most of them were arahants, and the display of emotion on Ānanda’s part may have been a little embarrassing. It is possible that the Buddha praised Ānanda so that no one would think less of him. Ānanda, after all, was one of the most important monks in the Saṇgha:

Then the Lord addressed the monks: “Monks, all those who were arahant fully-enlightened Buddhas in the past have had just such a chief attendant as Ānanda, and so too will those Blessed Lords who come in the future. Monks, Ānanda is wise. He knows when it is the right time for monks to come to see the Tathāgata, when it is the right time for nuns, for male lay-followers, for female lay-followers, for kings, for royal ministers, for leaders of other schools, and for their pupils.

“Ānanda has four remarkable and wonderful qualities. What are they? If a company of monks comes to see Ānanda, they are pleased at the sight of him, and when Ānanda talks Dhamma to them they are pleased, and when he is silent they are disappointed. And so it is, too, with nuns, with male and female lay-followers.” - [DN 16.5.15-16]

The Buddha sent Ānanda into the town to announce that he was dying. Ānanda tried to intervene when a local citizen named “Subhadda” wanted to see the Buddha personally. But the Buddha told Ānanda that Subhadda had an important question about the Dhamma, and that Ānanda should let him through. The Buddha gave him a brief discourse, after which Subhadda asked to ordain as a monk. The Buddha did ordain him, and soon after Subhadda became an arahant.

Now the Buddha addressed Ānanda and the monks. Once again the Buddha emphasized that they should use the Dharma and Discipline as their teacher:

And the Lord said to Ānanda: “Ānanda, it may be that you will think: ‘The Teacher’s instruction has ceased, now we have no teacher!’ It should not be seen like this, Ānanda, for what I have taught and explained to you as Dhamma and Discipline will, at my passing, be your teacher.” - [DN 16.6.1]

Then the Buddha told the Order that after his passing they may “abolish the minor rules” in the Vinaya. Unfortunately, he never told them which rules were minor, and this started a monastic debate that continues to this day.

Next a rather curious thing happened. Let’s recap the scene. The Buddha was lying in the lion’s posture in a golden robe. He was dying. The towns’ people surrounded him. There were many monks (again, this probably included nuns as well, for in the idiomatic language of the Pāli Canon “bhikkhus” could be any ordained person, and even included lay followers) and innumerable devas. He was about to breathe his last. Yet in that moment he made the effort to chastise a misbehaving monk:

“After my passing, the monk Channa is to receive the Brahma-penalty.”

“But, Lord, what is the Brahma-penalty?”

“Whatever the monk Channa wants or says, he is not to be spoken to, admonished or instructed by the monks.” - [DN 16.6.4]

Channa was the Buddha’s charioteer when he was a young man in Kapilavattu. According to the story the Buddha’s chastising of him brought him to his senses.

This is a remarkable detail. The Buddha was almost down to his last breath. There is probably a lot you can read into this. But as we have seen earlier, the Buddha could be quite harsh with misbehaving monks. His chastising of Channa on his deathbed is a reminder of the importance of staying true to the Dharma and Discipline if you have made the commitment to do so. Today there are people who misrepresent the Dharma, sometimes out of ignorance, or sometimes from laziness in not properly studying the teachings, and stories like this might be fair warning about the dangers in doing so.

Finally, he asked the monks if there was any point on the Dharma about which they were uncertain. This was his last act. He wanted to make sure that no one had any remaining questions. This, again, is one of the iconic moments in Buddhist history:

Then the Lord addressed the monks, saying: “It may be, monks, that some monk has doubts or uncertainty about the Buddha, the Dhamma, the Saṇgha, or about the path or the practice. Ask, monks! Do not afterwards feel remorse, thinking: ‘The Teacher was there before us, and we failed to ask the Lord face to face!’”

At these words the monks were silent. The Lord repeated his words a second and a third time, and still the monks were silent. Then the Lord said: “Perhaps, monks, you do not ask out of respect for the Teacher. Then, monks, let one friend tell it to another.” But still they were silent.

And the Venerable Ānanda said: “It is wonderful, Lord, it is marvelous! I clearly perceive that in this assembly there is not one monk who has doubts or uncertainty...”

“You, Ānanda, speak from faith. But the Tathāgata knows that in this assembly there is not one monk who has doubts or uncertainty about the Buddha, the Dhamma or the Saṇgha or about the path or the practice. Ānanda, the least one of these five hundred monks is a Stream-Winner, incapable of falling into states of woe, certain of nibbāna.” - [DN 16.6.5-6]

Then he said:

“Now, monks, I declare to you: all conditioned things are of a nature to decay — strive on untiringly.”

These were the Tathāgata’s last words. - [DN 16.6.7]

This, too, is a famous passage in Buddhism, and it is very important even now. Buddhism is not a philosophy. It is not an exposition of ultimate reality. It is a path. It is a training. It is a way to become more skillful in this life and ultimately be free from suffering and stress. The Buddha’s last words to us are not to write a paper on Buddhist thought or to speculate on the nature of the universe. His words tell us to “strive on untiringly.” And in all of his final Dharma talks he told us exactly what that means: morality, concentration, and wisdom, and to his monks the Four Noble Truths.

The Buddha then went through all the states of meditative absorption:

Then the Lord entered the first jhāna. And leaving that he entered the second, the third, the fourth jhāna. Then leaving the fourth jhāna he entered the Sphere of Infinite Space, then the Sphere of Infinite Consciousness, then the Sphere of No-Thingness, then the Sphere of Neither-Perception-Nor-Non-Perception, and leaving that he attained the Cessation of Feeling and Perception.

Then the Venerable Ānanda said to the Venerable Anuruddha: “Venerable Anuruddha, the Lord has passed away.”

“No, friend Ānanda, the Lord has not passed away, he has attained the Cessation of Feeling and Perception.”

Then the Lord, leaving the attainment of the Cessation of Feeling and Perception, entered the Sphere of Neither-Perception-Nor-Non-Perception, from that he entered the Sphere of No-Thingness, the Sphere of Infinite Consciousness, the Sphere of Infinite Space. From the Sphere of Infinite Space he entered the fourth jhāna, from there the third, the second and the first jhāna. Leaving the first jhāna, he entered the second, the third, the fourth jhāna. And, leaving the fourth jhāna, the Lord finally passed away.

And at the Blessed Lord’s final passing there was a great earthquake, terrible and hair-raising, accompanied by thunder. And Brahmā Sahampati uttered this verse:

“All beings in the world, all bodies must break up:

Even the Teacher, peerless in the human world,

The mighty Lord and perfect Buddha’s passed away.”

And Sakka, ruler of the devas, uttered this verse:

“Impermanent are compounded things, prone to rise and fall,

Having risen, they’re destroyed, their passing truest bliss.”

And the Venerable Anuruddha uttered this verse:

“No breathing in and out - just with steadfast heart

The Sage who’s free from lust has passed away to peace.

With mind unshaken he endured all pains:

By nibbāna the Illumined’s mind is freed.”

- [DN 16.6.8-10]

The Buddha was dead.

The Aftermath

There was a great deal of pomp and circumstance following the Buddha’s death. The town’s people prepared to cremate the body according to his instructions. But when they tried to set it on fire they could not. Venerable Anuruddha told them that this was because the Venerable Kassapa was on his way, and it would not be possible to cremate the Buddha until he arrived. The Buddha particularly respected Mahākassapa. When Mahākassapa did arrive, this is what happened:

Then the Venerable Kassapa the Great went to the Mallas’ shrine at Makuta-Bandhana to the Lord’s funeral pyre and, covering one shoulder with his robe, joined his hands in salutation, circumambulated the pyre three times and, uncovering the Lord’s feet, paid homage with his head to them, and the five hundred monks did likewise. And when this was done, the Lord’s funeral pyre ignited of itself. - [DN 16.6.19]

Figure: Stupa at the Buddha’s cremation site in Kushinigar

As news of the Buddha’s death spread, there was a debate over who should get the Buddha’s ashes. Finally the interested parties agreed to split up the Buddha’s remains. They divided the ashes into eight parts, one each for King Ajātasattu, the Licchavis (Vesāli), the Sakyas, “the Bulīs of Allakappa,” the “Koliyas of Rāmagāma,” a brahmin from Veṭhadīpa, the Mallas of Pāvā, and the Mallas of Kushinigar.

After this happened, a messenger from the “Moriyas of Pipphalivana” arrived and he wanted a share as well. He was given some of the ashes from the funeral pyre. A man named “Doṇa,” who had been the de facto organizer of the final events, kept the clay pot in which the ashes were stored after the cremation. Thus the relics were divided ten ways, and all the relics were stored in stupas.

These remains were divided again about 200 years later during the reign of the great Indian King Asoka. Some of them have been found, most famously at Piprahwa Stupa. Some of the ashes are at the Department of Archeology and Museums of the State Government of Bihār in Patna, Ajātasattu’s “new” capital. There are many rumors, stories and claims about where other relics are.

Whatever the case with the remains, the Buddha’s life and his teaching were complete. His remarkable life was over.

21. Postscript

About six months after the Buddha died, the arahants gather in Rājagāha to codify the suttas and the Discipline. There was concern that the practice was getting sloppy, and that the true Dharma and Discipline would be lost. King Ajātasattu sponsored the gathering. This was the “First Buddhist Council.” The Buddha’s favored monk Mahākassapa organized it. There have been thus far six Buddhist Councils. The most recent was in 1954. It was held in Burma.

Ānanda was not yet an arahant, so despite the fact that he was “foremost in the suttas” technically he had not earned a place at the table. But due to a final great effort he became an arahant just before the meeting, and he became the first great redactor of the suttas.

For the Vinaya, the foremost monk was Upāli, the barber who had left Kapilavattu with the Buddha’s cousins on the Buddha’s first trip home after his awakening. Upāli recited the Vinaya. For a country that is so steeped in status and class, it was a poignant lesson. Success in the Buddha’s path does not know class boundaries. It is only by one’s own effort and one’s own capacity that anyone progresses along the path.

With the conclusion of the First Council, the setting in motion of the sāsana was complete.

“This is morality, this is concentration, this is wisdom.”

“…you should live as islands unto yourselves, being your own refuge, with no one else as your refuge, with the Dhamma as an island, with the Dhamma as your refuge, with no other refuge.”

“…what I have taught and explained to you as Dhamma and Discipline will, at my passing, be your teacher.”

“…I declare to you: all conditioned things are of a nature to decay — strive on untiringly.”

These are the words of the Buddha.

finis.

Those who

Fully cultivate the Factors of Awakening,

Give up grasping,

Enjoy non-clinging,

And have destroyed the toxins,

Are luminous,

And completely liberated in this life.

- [Dhp 89]

Appendices

Appendix A - Glossary of Terms

Abhidhamma (Pāli, Sanskrit: Abhidharma)

The Abhidhamma is the third of the “three baskets” in the Pāli Canon, although scholars date it to 100 to 200 years after the time of the Buddha. It has been variously described as philosophy, psychology, and metaphysics. The Abhidhamma is highly revered in the Theravada tradition, and highly criticized in the others (!).

Ajahn (also Ajaan)

Thai word meaning “teacher.” In Buddhism it is a monk who has at least ten years of seniority.

Aṇguttara Nikāya

Literally Increased by One Collection, but usually translated as Numerical Discourses. It is the second of the five nikāyas, or collections, in the Sutta Pitaka of the Pāli Canon. The Aṇguttara Nikāya is organized in eleven books according to the number of items referenced in them (i.e., the Four Noble Truths is in the Book of Fours).

arahant (Pāli, Sanskrit: arahat)

Literally “one who is worthy,” a perfected person, i.e., one who has attained nirvāṇa.

awakening

Also called “enlightenment.” It is a sudden insight into transcendent, ultimate truth. This is the goal of the Buddha’s system of training. After awakening one is free from un-necessary suffering, and after death is free from all suffering. In Buddhist cosmology a fully awakened person, or “arahant,” is free from the rounds of rebirth.

Bhante (Pāli)

Literally “Venerable Sir.” A senior Buddhist monastic who has been ordained at least ten years. Although it is a masculine term it is gender neutral and is used for both monks and nuns.

bhikkhu (Pāli, Sanskrit: bhikṣu)

Literally “beggar.” An ordained Buddhist monk. However the term can also refer to anyone following the Buddhist path. When the Buddha gave a talk he would address it to the highest ranking persons there. The rank order was 1) monks, 2) nuns, 3) lay men, and 4) lay women. Thus if even one monk were present, he would address the talk to “bhikkhus.”

Bodhisatta (Pāli, Sanskrit: Bodhisattva)

The term used by the Buddha to refer to himself both in his previous lives and as a young man in his current life, prior to his awakening, in the period during which he was working towards his own liberation.

deva

In the Buddhist cosmology devas are gods or heavenly beings that live in the realm just above humans.

Dharma (Sanskrit, Pāli: dhamma)

In Buddhism, the word “dharma” can have three different meanings. The first meaning is the universal nature of how things are. At the time of the Buddha, each religious school had its own Dharma, or understanding of how things are. The second meaning of Dharma is the teachings of the Buddha. The third meaning is phenomena. Buddhism sees everything in terms of causes and affects. Mental activities, for example, are dharmas. When referring to the teachings of the Buddha, the word Dharma is capitalized. When referring to phenomena, it is not capitalized.

Dhammapada-aṭṭhakatha (“aṭṭhakathā” is Pāli for explanation, commentary)

Commentary to the Dhammapada.

Digha Nikāya

The “Long Discourses” (Pāli digha = “long”). It is the first of the five nikāyas, or collections, in the Sutta Pitaka of the Pāli Canon. Pāli scholar Joy Manné makes the argument that the Digha Nikāya was particularly intended to make converts (Bhikkhu Bodhi pointedly refers to this as “for the purpose of propaganda”!), with its high proportion of debates and devotional material.

Eight Precepts

These are lay precepts for people who want to practice more intensively. They are often observed on Uposatha Days. The additional precepts (to the Five Precepts) are: 1) refrain from eating after noon, 2) refraining from entertainment, wearing jewelry or using perfumes, and 3) sleeping on luxurious beds or over-sleeping.

fetters

Literally a “chain” that shackles one to the rounds of rebirth. The fetters are 1) self-identity view, 2) attachment to rites and rituals, 3) doubt, 4) sense desire, 5) ill will 6) desire for material existence, 7) desire for immaterial existence, 8) conceit, 9) restlessness, and 10) ignorance.

Five Faculties

Also called the “Five Strengths” or the “Five Spiritual Faculties.” They are 1) faith, 2) energy (vigor/diligence), 3) mindfulness, 4) concentration, and 5) wisdom.

Four Foundations of Mindfulness

Also called the Four Establishings of Mindfulness, and the Four Frames of Reference. The Four Foundations of Mindfulness are 1) the body, 2) feelings, or “feeling tones,” 3) mental formations, and 4) mental phenomena.

jhāna (Pāli, Sanskrit: dhyāna)

“meditative absorption.” The jhānas are states of high concentration. In the final formulation there are four “material” jhānas and four “immaterial” jhānas.

kōan (Japanese, also kung-an)

A kōan is a riddle or puzzle that Zen Buddhists use during meditation to overcome conceptual thinking in order to unravel a greater truth.

Majjhima Nikāya

The Middle Length Discourses of the Buddha. It is the second of the five nikāyas, or collections, in the Sutta Pitaka of the Pāli Canon. It is generally believed to be the most important collection of discourses in the Canon. The Majjhima Nikāya corresponds to the Madhyama Āgama which survives in two Chinese translations. Fragments also exist in Sanskrit and Tibetan.

Māra (Pāli, Sanskrit)

Literally “bringer of death.” Māra is a deity who embodies the ability of experience, especially sensory experience, to seduce and trap the mind, particularly to prevent the cessation of suffering.

nibbāna (Pāli, Sanskrit: nirvāṇa)

Nibbāna is one of the terms that is used to define the goal of the Buddhist path. It literally means “to extinguish,” and means to extinguish the three flames of greed, hatred, and delusion.

non-returner (Pāli, Sanskrit: anāgāmi)

The third of four stages of awakening. A non-returner eliminates the fourth and fifth “fetters” – sense craving and ill-will – and will become an arahant with no more rebirths in the material realm.

once-returner (Pāli: sakadāgāmin, Sanskrit: sakṛdāmin)

The second of four stages of awakening. A once-returner has weakened the fourth and fifth “fetters” – sense craving and ill-will – and will become an arahant with no more than one more rebirth in the material realm.

Pāli Canon

The Pāli Canon is the collection of Buddhist texts preserved in the Pāli language. It consists of three Pitakas, or “baskets.” These are the Vinaya Pitaka (the monastic code), the Sutta Pitaka (the discourses of the Buddha and his senior disciples), and the Abhidhamma Pitaka, a later work that is variously described as Buddhist philosophy, psychology, and metaphysics. The Abhidhamma Pitaka is unique to Theravada, or southern, Buddhism; the other collections have versions in the Chinese and Tibetan Canons.

parinibbāna (Pāli, Sanskrit: parinirvāṇa)

Literally “nibbāna after death.” When the body of an arahant dies, this frees the being from saṃsara, the rounds of rebirth.

Pātimokkha (Pāli, Sanskrit: Prātimokṣa)

Literally “towards liberation.” It is the list of monastic rules in the Vinaya.

Saṇgha (Pāli, Sanskrit: saṃgha)

Literally “community.” At the time of the Buddha the term Saṇgha referred either to the community of monastics (monks and nuns) or the noble Saṇgha, which is the community of people who are stream-enterers, once-returners, non-returners, and arahants.

Satipaṭṭhāna (Pāli)

The “Four Foundations of Mindfulness”: (1) the body, (2), feelings/sensations, (3) mental formations (thoughts and emotions), and (4) dharmas, or phenomena.

Samaṇa (Pāli, Sanskrit: Śramaṇa)

A wandering ascetic.

Saṃyutta Nikāya

The Connected Discourses. It is the third of the five nikāyas, or collections, in the Sutta Pitaka of the Pāli Canon. The Saṃyutta Nikāya consists of fifty-six chapters, each governed by a unifying theme that binds together the Buddha’s suttas or discourses.

Seven Factors of Awakening (enlightenment)

(1) Mindfulness, (2) investigation, (3) energy, (4) joy/rapture, (5) tranquility, (6) concentration, and (7) equanimity.

stream-entry (Pāli: sotāpanna, Sanskrit: srotāpanna)

The first of four stages of awakening. A stream-enterer overcomes the first three “fetters” – self view, attachment to rites and rituals and skeptical doubt – and will become an arahant in no more than seven lifetimes with no rebirths in the lower realms.

sutta (Pāli, Sanskrit: sutra)

A discourse of the Buddha or one of his disciples. The Pāli word “sutta” refers specifically to the Pāli Canon. The words “sutta” and the Sanskrit form “sutra” literally mean “thread,” and are related to the English word “suture.”

Tathāgata (Pāli, Sanskrit)

A word the Buddha used when referring to himself. It’s literal meaning is ambiguous. It can mean either “thus gone” (tathā-gata) or “thus come” (tathā-āgata). It is probably intentionally ambiguous, meaning that the Buddha, having attained a final awakening, was beyond all comings and goings.

Upāsaka (masculine), Upāsikā (feminine) (Pāli, Sanskrit)

Literally “attendant.” A lay follower of the Buddha, one who has taken and keeps the Five Precepts.

Uposatha (Pāli, Sanskrit: Upavasatha)

Traditionally held on the new moon and full moon days of the lunar month. This is the day when monastics gather to recite the Pātimokkha (monastic rules) and confess any transgressions. Lay people observe either the Five Precepts or, if they spend the day at a temple or monastery, the Eight Precepts.

Visuddhimagga (Pāli)

Literally, The Path of Purification. The Visuddhimagga is a Theravada commentarial work attributed to the monk Buddhaghosa, who formulated it in Sri Lanka in the fifth century CE.

Appendix B - Bibliography

Ajahn Anālayo, The Legacy of Bhikkhuni Ordination, Carmel, NY: The Buddhist Association of the United States, 2014.

Allen, Charles, The Search for the Buddha, New York: Carroll & Graf Publishers, 2002, 2003.

Aśvaghoṣa (Author), Cowell, Edward (Translator/Editor), Johnson, E.H. (Translator), Ānandajoti Bhikkhu (Compiler), Buddhacarita: Acts of the Buddha, New Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass Publishers, 1895.

Bhikkhu Bodhi (Translator), The Connected Discourses of the Buddha: A Translation of the Saṃyutta Nikāya, Somerville: Wisdom Publications, 2003.

Bhikkhu Bodhi (Translator), The Numerical Discourses of the Buddha: A Translation of the Aṇguttara Nikāya, Somerville: Wisdom Publications, 2012.

Bhikkhu Bodhi, Bhikkhu Khantipalo, Hecker, Hellmuth, Ireland, John D., Norman, K.R., Olendzki, Andrew, Rhys Davids, C.A.F., Sister Khema, Thera-Therīgatha: Verses of Arahant Bhikkhus and Bhikkhunīs, Kandy: Buddhist Publication Society, 2012.

Bhikkhu Ñāṇamoli, The Life of the Buddha According to the Pāli Canon, Onalaska: Pariyati, 1972, 1992.

Bhikkhu Ñāṇamoli (Translator), Bhikkhu Bodhi (Translator), The Middle Length Discourses of the Buddha: A Translation of the Majjhima Nikāya (Teachings of the Buddha), Somerville: Wisdom Publications, 1995.

Burlingame, Eugene Watson (Translator), Lanman, Charles Rockwell (Editor), Buddhist Legends: Dhammapada Commentary, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1921.

Chalmers (Translator), E.B. Cowell (ed.), The Jataka, Vol. I, Cambridge: University Press, 1895.

Chökyi Nyima Rinpoche, et al, Lalitavistara Sūtra: The Play in Full, Kathmandu: Dharmachakra Translation Committee.

Francis, H. T. (Translator), E.B. Cowell (ed.), The Jataka, Vol. III, Cambridge: University Press, 1897.

Francis, H. T. (Translator), E.B. Cowell (ed.), The Jataka, Vol. V, Cambridge: University Press, 1897.

Fronsdale, Gil, The Dhammapada: A New Translation of the Buddhist Classic with Annotations, Boston & London: Shambhala, 2011.

Gethin, Rupert, The Foundations of Buddhism, New York: Oxford University Press, 1998.

Gombrich, Richard F., How Buddhism Began: The Conditioned Genesis of the Early Teachings, New Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal Publishers, 1996.

Harvey, Peter, An Introduction to Buddhism: Teachings, history and practices, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990.

Kelly, John (translator), Milindapañha: The Questions of King Milinda, Access to Insight (Legacy Edition), http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/kn/miln/miln.intro.kell.html, 2013.

Nyanaponika Thera, Hellmuth Hecker, Great Disciples of the Buddha: Their Lives, Their Works, Their Legacy, Somerville: Wisdom Publications, 2003.

Rhys Davids, T.W. (Translator), Oldenberg, Hermann (Translator), Vinaya Texts, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1881.

Rouse, W.H.D. (Translator), E.B. Cowell (ed.), The Jataka, Vol. II, Cambridge: University Press, 1895.

Rouse, W.H.D. (Translator), E.B. Cowell (ed.), The Jataka, Vol. IV, Cambridge: University Press, 1901.

Rouse, W.H.D. (Translator), E.B. Cowell (ed.), The Jataka, Vol. VI, Cambridge: University Press, 1907.

Schumann, H.W., The Historical Buddha: The Times, Life and Teachings of the Founder of Buddhism, Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass Publishers, 1982, 1989, 2004.

Schmidt, Amy, Dipa Ma: The Life and Legacy of a Buddhist Master, Cambridge: Windhorse Publications, 2005.

Ṭhānissaro Bhikkhu, The Buddhist Monastic Code, Valley Center: Metta Forest Monastery, 2013.

Ṭhānissaro Bhikkhu, Udana: Exclamations, Valley Center: Metta Forest Monastery, 2014.

Thea Mohr, Ven. Jampa Tsedroen, Dignity & Discipline: Reviving Full Ordination for Buddhist Nuns, Somerville: Wisdom Publications, 2014.

Trainor, Kevin, Buddhism: The Illustrated Guide, New York: Oxford University Press, 2001.

Walsh, Maurice (Translator), The Long Discourses of the Buddha: A Translation of the Digha Nikāya (Teachings of the Buddha), Somerville: Wisdom Publications, 1995.

Appendix C - Buddhist Cosmology