Jataka 496
Bikkhā Parampara Jātaka
The Worthy One
as told by Eric Van Horn
originally translated by H.T. Francis and R.A. Neil, Cambridge University
originally edited by Professor Edward Byles Cowell, Cambridge University
This story has a theme that may not resonate with Westerners. And truly, this story may be mainly cultural. The tradition is that for one who has great status—like a king—anyone who eats their food must be worthy. In this story you must be deserving or of the highest status, spiritually speaking, in order to accept certain gifts like food.
“I saw one sitting.” The Master told this story while living at Jetavana. It is about a certain landowner. He was a true and devoted lay follower. He showed honor continually to the Tathāgata (Buddha) and the Saṇgha. One day this thought came to him. “I show honor constantly to the Buddha—that precious jewel—and the Saṇgha—that precious jewel—by giving them delicate food and soft robes. Now I should like to do honor to that precious jewel, the Dharma. But how can I show honor to that?”
So, he took perfumed garlands and such things, and he proceeded to Jetavana. There he greeted the Master. He asked him this question: “My desire is, sir, to show honor to the jewel of the Dharma. How am I to go about doing that?” The Master replied, “If your desire is to honor the jewel of the Dharma, then show honor to Ānanda, the Treasurer of the Dharma.” “That is well,” he said, and he promised to do so.
On the next day he invited the Elder to visit him. He brought him to his house in great pomp and splendor. He placed the Elder on a magnificent seat. He worshipped him with perfumed garlands. He gave him choice food of many kinds and presented him with expensive cloth sufficient for the three robes. The Elder thought, “This honor is done to the jewel of the Dharma. It does not suit me. It is better suited for the chief Commander of the Faith.” So, he placed the food in his bowl, and he took it and the cloth to the monastery where he gave it to the Elder Sāriputta.
Sāriputta thought in a similar fashion. “This honor is done to the jewel of the Dharma. It is suited simply and solely for the Supreme Buddha, lord of the Dharma.” So, he gave it to the Dasabala (Buddha). The Master, seeing no one above himself, ate the food and accepted the cloth for robes.
The monks chatted about this in the Dharma Hall. “Brothers, the landowner, meaning to show honor to the Dharma, gave a gift to the Elder Ānanda, Treasurer of the Law. He did not think himself worthy of it, so he gave it to the Commander of the Faith. And he, thinking himself not worthy, gave it to the Tathāgata. But the Tathāgata, seeing no one above himself, knew that he was worthy of it as Lord of the Dharma. He ate the food and took that cloth for robes. Thus, the gift of food has found its master by going to him who rightly deserved it.”
The Master entered and asked them what they were discussing as they sat there. They told him. “Brothers,” he said, “this is not the first time that food given has been given to the worthy in successive steps. It was the same long ago, before the Buddha’s day.” With these words, he told them this story from the past.
Once upon a time Brahmadatta—having renounced the path of defilements—ruled righteously in Benares. He kept the Ten Royal Virtues (generosity, morality, renunciation, honesty, gentleness, asceticism, non-violence, patience, uprightness). This being so, his court of justice became empty. The King, by way of searching out his own faults, questioned everyone, beginning with those who lived with him. But not in the women’s apartments, nor in the city, nor in the near villages, could he find anyone who found a fault in him. Then he decided to try the country folk. So, handing over the government to his courtiers, and taking the chaplain with him, he traveled about the kingdom of Kāsi in disguise. Still, he found no one who found a fault with him.
At last he came to a village on the frontier. He sat down in a hall without a gate. At that time, a landowner of that village, a rich man worth eighty crores (one crore is 10 million rupees), was going down to the bathing place with a great following. He saw the King seated in the hall with his dainty body and skin of a golden color. He took a fancy to him, and—entering the hall—he said, “Stay here awhile.” Then he went to his house and had prepared all manner of dainty foods. Then he returned with his grand retinue carrying vessels of this food.
At the same time, a recluse from the Himalaya came in and sat down there. He had the Five Transcendent Faculties (the five spiritual faculties: confidence or faith, energy, mindfulness, concentration, and wisdom). Likewise, a Pacceka Buddha, from the cave on Mount Nanda, came and sat down there. The landowner gave the King water to wash his hands, and he prepared a dish of food with all manner of fine sauces and condiments. He set this before the King. The King received it and gave it to the brahmin chaplain. The chaplain took it and gave to the recluse. The recluse walked up to the Pacceka Buddha. He held the vessel of food in his left hand, and in his right he held the waterpot. First, he offered the water as a gift, and then he placed the food in the bowl. The Pacceka Buddha proceeded to eat without inviting anyone else to share or asking them to leave. When the meal was done, the landowner thought, “I gave this food to the King. He gave it to his chaplain, and the chaplain gave it to the recluse. The recluse gave it to the Pacceka Buddha; the Pacceka Buddha has eaten it without asking leave. What does this manner of giving mean? Why did the last one eat without taking leave or asking for you to leave? I will ask them one by one.” Then he approached each in turn. And saluting them, he asked his question, while they replied:
“I saw one worthy of a throne, who from a kingdom came,
To deserts bare from palaces, most delicate of frame.
“On him from kindness I bestowed picked paddy-grains to eat,
A mound of rice all cooked so nice such as men pour on meat.
“You took the food and gave it to the brahmin, eating none,
With all due deference, I ask, what is it you have done?”
“My teacher, pastor, yearning he for duties great and small,
I ought to give the food to him, for he deserves it all.”
“Brahmin, whom even kings respect, say why did you not eat
The mound of rice, all cooked so nice, which men pour over meat.
“You knew not the gift’s scope, but to the sage you passed it on,
With all due deference I ask, what is it you have done?”
“I keep a wife and family, in houses, too, I dwell,
I rule the passions of a king, my own indulge as well.
“Unto a wise reclusive man long living in the wood,
Old, practiced in religious lore, I ought to give the food.”
“Now the thin sage I ask, whose skin shows all the veins beneath,
With nails grown long, and shaggy hair, and dirty head and teeth.
"Have you no care for life, O lonely dweller in the wood?
How is this monk a better man to whom you gave the food?”
“Wild bulbs and radishes I dig, catmint and herbs seek I,
Wild rice, black mustard shake or pick, and spread them out to dry,
“Jujubes, herbs, honey, lotus-threads, myrobolan, scraps of meat,
This is my wealth, and these I take and make them fit to eat.
“I cook, he cooks not. I have wealth, he nothing. I’m bound tight
To worldly things, but he is free. The food is his by right.”
“I ask the brother, sitting there, with cravings all subdued,
—This mound of rice, all cooked and nice, which men pour on their food,
“You took it, and with appetite eat it, and share with none,
With all due deference I ask, what is it you have done?”
Figure: “What is it you have done?”
“I cook not, nor I cause to cook, destroy nor have destroyed,
He knew that I have no wealth, all defilements I avoid.
“The pot he carried in his right, and in his left the food,
Gave me the broth men pour on meat, the mound of rice so good.
“They have possessions, they have wealth, their duty is to give,
Who asks a giver to share, in foolishness he does live.”
On hearing these words, the landowner repeated the last two stanzas in great delight:
“It was a happy chance for me today that brought the King,
I never knew before how gifts abundant fruit would bring.
“Kings in their kingdoms, brahmins in their work, are full of greed,
Sages live on fruits and roots and from defilements are freed.”
The Pacceka Buddha then departed to his own place, and the recluse did likewise. And the King, after remaining with him for a few days, went back to Benares.
When the Master had ended this discourse, he said, “This is not the first time, monks, that food went to the one who deserved it, for the same thing has happened before.” Then he identified the birth: “At that time, the landowner who did honor to the Dharma was the landowner in the story. Ānanda was the King, Sāriputta was the chaplain, and I was the recluse who lived in Himalaya.”
