8 : Talks Inspiring Arahantship
As was the case in Chapter 7, many of the talks in this chapter work variations on the standard pattern established by the second discourse, so they don’t require much explanation. We’ll focus instead only on areas where passages depart from the pattern or raise important points of doctrine. Of these, the passage concerning Bāhiya of the Bark Cloth, Ud 1:10, has prompted the largest number of divergent commentaries, so it’ll require by far the most explanation to sort through the various interpretations that have been offered. That’s why we’ll be saving it for last.
As we noted in Chapter 7, the sutta passages that inspired arahantship in the listeners contain far more similes than the passages that inspired lower levels of noble attainments. Why that’s the case, the Canon doesn’t say.
However, the role of similes in fostering awakening can be explained in terms of the sequence of dependent co-arising. In that sequence, similes count as perceptions, which fall under two factors: fabrication and name-and-form. As we noted in Chapter 5, given the non-linear nature of the sequence of dependent co-arising, when knowledge and dispassion are brought to either of these factors, they can create a chain-reaction that can cause all the other factors to cease.
Many of the similes are quite extreme, which may in part account for their effectiveness in inspiring a strong sense of dispassion or even terror—saṁvega—in the listeners.
The Fire Sermon
This is certainly the case with the talk popularly known as the Fire Sermon. Its governing metaphor focuses on how the six sense media and related phenomena—which encompass the All—should be viewed as being aflame.
It’s been widely recognized that this analogy is related to the fact that the talk was given to 1,000 monks who had formerly been brahmanical ascetics, offering sacrifices and oblations to fires. But to understand how the Buddha got the most effect out of the analogy, it’s good to know more about the background of the talk and of its listeners.
First, the story: After the Buddha had established a small band of awakened disciples in the first months after his awakening, he sent them out to proclaim the Dhamma in all directions. He then went to Uruvela to convert three groups of famous dreadlocked brahmanical ascetics living in the area. The groups were led by three brothers, the most senior being Uruvela Kassapa, who also had the largest following, 500 in all.
The story of how the Buddha converted Uruvela Kassapa is one of the longest and most amusing in the Vinaya. The Buddha displays miracle after miracle, some of them quite extravagant, but Uruvela Kassapa’s reaction is always the same: “He’s powerful, the Great Contemplative, and mighty… But still, he’s not an arahant like me.” Finally, the Buddha decides to terrify him by reading his mind: “You, Kassapa, are neither an arahant nor one endowed with the path to arahantship. You don’t even have a way of practice by which you would become an arahant or one endowed with the path to arahantship.”
This has the desired effect. Uruvela Kassapa sheds his pride and asks to live the holy life under the Buddha. Before accepting him as a student, though, the Buddha tells him to inform his following. Their reaction: “For a long time, sir, we’ve been highly impressed with the Great Contemplative. If you’re going to live the holy life under him, all of us will likewise live the holy life under him.”
The other two groups are then quickly converted and receive ordination, giving the Buddha a total of 1,000 new students.
Some people have objected to this story, either because they don’t believe in psychic powers, or because they note the Buddha’s reasons, given in DN 11, for not displaying the types of psychic powers described in this story: People will simply dismiss them as a magic trick. However, the passage in DN 11 focuses on the question of displaying psychic powers to lay people. Here the Buddha is dealing with ascetics who clearly believe in psychic powers, so—because he had them in his arsenal and because they were needed in this case—he used them.
It’s also worth noting that one of the drawbacks of displays like this is that word gets out, and lay people come thronging to see them. (See the origin stories to Nissaggiya Pācittiya 23 and Cv.V.8.) In this case, however, we see that Uruvela Kassapa didn’t want his lay followers to know of the Buddha’s powers, as it would make his own powers seem meager in comparison, so the Buddha was protected from that sort of problem.
So it was through his display of psychic powers that the Buddha inspired conviction in the ascetics. Apparently, as part of their training, they had also developed some powers of concentration. What they still lacked in terms of the qualities needed as ideal listeners was discernment. Yet, instead of teaching the ascetics all five steps of his program for inducing dispassion, the Buddha gave them a talk that focused on one step: the drawbacks of what they were attached to.
As Uruvela Kassapa later admitted, they had been performing sacrifices and oblations to fires in hopes of sensual pleasures in a future life. That was the allure of their earlier practice. So the first order of business for the Buddha was to focus on the drawbacks of the five physical senses, plus the intellect as the sixth.
That’s where the fire analogy came in. The Buddha opened his talk by saying that the All was aflame. This statement would have special meaning for the type of fire worship the ascetics had been engaged in. The underlying principle of the cult of the ancient Indian fire god—Agni in Sanskrit, Aggi in Pāli—was that fire existed both as a god who could be appeased and as a latent physical potential suffused in all things. Lighting a fire would put you in touch with that god/potential, and when the proper chants were recited and the proper ritual actions performed, items such as food, livestock, and other forms of wealth sacrificed into the fire along with oblations dedicated to Agni/Aggi could be directed through that universal potential to the world of the afterlife. The more wealth transferred in this way, the longer you could consume it after death: This provided a form of “deathlessness” based, not on being free from conditions or the need to feed, but on being supplied with an ample source of food. Agni/Aggi was worshipped not only for his power but also for his utility in being able to deliver wealth and food to the world after death.
(On this point, see: Jan Gonda, Some Observations on the Relations between ‘Gods’ and ‘Powers’ in the Veda, a propos of the Phrase, sunuh sahasah. (s’Gravenhage: Mouton & Co., 1957.)
In this worldview, the idea of a universal fire potential latent in all things was a source of comfort: Its power could be harnessed to send sustenance wherever you wanted it.
But when the Buddha stated that the All was aflame, that changed the nature of the image. If the fire potential was everywhere ignited, aflame, and out of control, the image of an all-pervasive fire element was no longer a source of comfort. Instead, it became a source of saṁvega, or terror.
The Buddha then explained what it meant for the All to be aflame. This All consisted of the six senses, their objects, consciousness at the senses, contact at the senses, and any feelings based on that contact, whether painful, pleasant, or neither painful nor pleasant. That covers all of sensory experience.
This All was burning with three types of flames: one inherent in the All, and two added by the mind’s attitude toward the All. The inherent flames included aging, illness, and death. The first type of added flames were the defilements of passion, aversion, and delusion. The second type of added flames were the various forms of suffering that come from the defilements: sorrows, lamentations, pains, distresses, and despairs.
It’s worth noting that of these various forms of burning, the Buddha refers to only three—the most problematic—with the word, aggi. Those three are the defilements of passion, aversion, and delusion. This demotes Agni/Aggi from being a god to be worshipped for his good services into psychological factors to be feared.
The Buddha then makes the image even more fearful. Instead of saying that the flames should be put out—as he would in many later talks—he says that the noble disciple “grows disenchanted” with the All. The verb he uses here, nibbindati, is primarily associated with food: It’s what you feel when you’ve had so much of a particular food that you don’t want any more. The implication in this context is that the 1,000 ascetics have been feeding on fire and performing sacrifices to feed on more fire in the afterlife. That image would be enough to give rise to a strong sense of dispassion for the All, abandoning any clinging related to it.
This talk inspired the entire group of 1,000 ascetics to gain release.
Some people have objected to the idea that the Buddha could have been consciously aware of the brahmanical idea of a latent fire element pervading all things, on the grounds that this was an esoteric idea that the brahmans would have kept secret. But because it was part of their theory as to why their sacrifices were effective, what reason would they have had for keeping it under wraps? They would have been more likely to advertise it to convince potential clients of the power of their services. So it seems safe to assume that the Buddha was aware of their theory of fire—Sn 3:4 shows that he had very detailed knowledge of many of their other doctrines as well—and that he deliberately used that knowledge to the best possible effect.
Aside from the way the Buddha used the image of fire here, the most striking thing about the talk is what he doesn’t say.
First, there’s no mention either of the four noble truths or of the three perceptions. These teachings are there only implicitly and partially. Of the three perceptions, only two are even implicit: inconstancy in the flames of birth, aging, and death; stress in the flames of sorrows, lamentations, pains, distresses, and despairs. Of the four noble truths, in addition to the reference to the various forms of stress, the only truths implicitly referred to are craving in the flames of passion, and the end of suffering in the reference to dispassion. But for the ascetics, even just this much was enough.
Second, unlike the pattern of the second discourse, there’s no extrapolation to past or future. Here again, the fire-worshippers’ image of fire permeating the entire cosmos well into the future may have made any further reference to the future unnecessary. The ascetics were primed to make that connection themselves. The image of a universal fire potential everywhere aflame, one that they had been ignorantly taking as food, was enough to give rise to an all-embracing (and All-embracing) sense of saṁvega, leaving their minds no place to stand. They could only let go of everything.
Two More Talks Inducing Saṁvega
In addition to the Fire Sermon, the Buddha gave two other talks that brought his listeners to full awakening by inducing within them a strong sense of saṁvega.
In one case—SN 15:13 [§52]—he impresses a group of thirty wilderness-dwelling monks with the amount of suffering they have endured in the past. Given that saṁsāra has an inconceivable beginning, he asks them which they think is greater: the amount of water in the four great oceans or the amount of blood they have lost from having their heads cut off. Their correct answer: the blood. The Buddha then lists various reasons they would have had their heads cut off: They were born as cows, as water-buffalos, as rams, as goats, as deer, as chickens, as pigs—and here the Buddha adds a sting to the image by referring to their heads as cow-heads, water-buffalo-heads, and so forth. They also lost their heads as human beings arrested for being village thieves, highway thieves, and adulterers. In each category, they had had their heads cut off so many times that the blood they lost was more than the water in the four great oceans. That immense amount of blood, plus the realization of the many lowly births they had experienced, yielded an overwhelming sense of terror.
As a result of being questioned with regard to each case like this, the thirty monks all gained full awakening.
The other case of a discourse inducing saṁvega—AN 7:69 [§53]—focuses not on past sufferings but on the potential for future sufferings that come from illegitimately enjoying sensory pleasures in the present. The Buddha is sitting with a group of monks near a large bonfire and asks them: “What do you think, monks: Which would be better? To sit or lie down hugging that great mass of fire—aflame, blazing, aglow—or to sit or lie down hugging a noble-warrior maiden or brahman maiden or householder maiden with soft & tender hands & feet?”
Their foolish answer: It would be better to hug the maiden.
He then warns them that, for a sham monk, it would be better to hug the fire. Why is that? Because hugging the fire would not send him to hell, but hugging the maiden would.
The Buddha then asks six more questions of a similar sort, and receives six more foolish answers. The correct answer to each question is that, for a sham monk, it would be better to endure a gruesome, life-threatening pain in the present life than to accept the homage and respectful salutations of affluent lay-people, or to use the various gifts they had given out of conviction.
As a result of this discourse, approximately sixty monks coughed up hot blood, approximately sixty disrobed, and approximately sixty gained full awakening.
There are two points worth discussing here. The first has to do with the fact that in AN 5:26 [§22], the Buddha identified joy as a requisite quality for gaining a noble attainment while listening to a talk. But what kind of joy is there in these terrifying examples—or, for that matter, in the Fire Sermon? The answer lies in remembering the conditions that SN 12:23 [§23] says underlie the proper sort of joy conducive to awakening: That joy is based on conviction, and conviction is based on the experience of suffering and stress. Some people need a strong sense of saṁvega in order to appreciate the practices taught by the Buddha. When they are vividly aware of the sufferings of the six senses and the worlds of rebirth, they are more likely to value the Buddha’s teachings and to find joy in taking advantage of the opening those teachings provide to escape from those sufferings.
In this case, the fact that the Buddha is not sugar-coating the pill for them, that he’s addressing them in an uncompromising way, would be an extra source of admiration and joy. As AN 7:69 shows, not everyone can take this sort of medicine, but there are others for whom it’s exactly what they want and need.
The second point worth discussing is the fact that, in the Fire Sermon, the Buddha provides a detailed map of the factors that fall under the All, as a sort of checklist for possible places where clinging might lurk. In the two examples given here, though, he provides nothing of the sort. There are just the graphic and terrifying images. It’s possible that the monks listening to these talks were already aware of the Buddha’s maps of the five aggregates and the six sense spheres, so they knew what they had to look out for. It’s also possible, though, that the overwhelming force of images was enough, in that it provided no foothold for craving and clinging to land.
Ven. Yamaka
The story of Ven. Yamaka is of a very different sort, although the talk that led him to full awakening does contain a graphic image very conducive to disenchantment.
The story begins with the news that Yamaka is holding to an evil viewpoint: “As I understand the Teaching explained by the Blessed One, a monk with no more effluents, on the break-up of the body, is annihilated, perishes, & does not exist after death.” Other monks try to convince him that the viewpoint is evil and should be abandoned, but to no avail.
To understand how the story progresses from there, we have to understand how and why this viewpoint is evil. The most obvious reason is that it’s a form of annihilationism, a view that—together with its opposite, eternalism—the Buddha denounced as especially pernicious. That, though, begs the further question: Why did the Buddha denounce these two views in such extreme terms?
To understand why, we have to look at the question that both views were supposed to answer: one that’s so wrong-headed and obstructive to the end of suffering that the Buddha refused to take any position in answer to it at all. The question is whether a fully awakened person—a Tathāgata—exists after death.
This question was one of the hot issues of the Buddha’s time. Four positions were staked out in response to it: The Tathāgata, after death, either:
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exists,
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doesn’t exist,
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both exists and doesn’t exist, or
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neither exists nor doesn’t exist.
Because this question has four possible answers, it’s called a tetralemma, after the Greek stem-word for “four”: tetra.
Various reasons have been proposed for why the Buddha refused to take any of these four positions. One modern interpretation is based on assuming that the Buddha’s teaching on not-self is an assertion that there is no self. Then, because the Tathāgata doesn’t exist before death, there’s no way he could exist after death, either.
On the surface, this would appear to fall under option (2), Ven. Yamaka’s view: After death, the Tathāgata doesn’t exist. However, people supporting the modern interpretation claim to avoid that option, and the tetralemma as a whole, by claiming further that the question behind the tetralemma assumes that the Tathāgata exists before death. In other words, “exists”—in the case of this question—means, “continues to exist.” Because there is nothing to continue to exist, none of the four options would apply. The awakened person would accurately be described by another option: doesn’t exist either before or after death.
Now, there is nothing in the Canon to indicate that the question behind the tetralemma assumes that the Tathāgata exists before death. But even if we accept this modern interpretation here, we find that, on closer examination, it actually answers the question behind its version of the tetralemma. Even on its own terms, it falls—without intending to—under option (4).
Look carefully at what it says. From its reasoning, the first option in the tetralemma is this: a = The Tathāgata continues to exist after death.
The second option is: not a = The Tathāgata stops existing after death.
The Buddhist position, in their interpretation, is: The Tathāgata doesn’t continue to exist or stop existing after death, because he didn’t exist to begin with.
But this, in their depiction of the tetralemma, would actually yield: neither a nor not-a.
That’s the fourth option of the tetralemma as they define it.
Which means that they don’t really escape the tetralemma, and that their interpretation can’t really explain how the Buddha did.
The Buddha never stated the position they attribute to him. In fact, he stated that any attempt to describe the Tathāgata before or after death, either within the framework of the tetralemma or outside it, would misrepresent his teachings (SN 22:86). This would rule out the option, “doesn’t exist either before or after death,” or any variation on it.
So the only way the Buddha could legitimately hold to his silence on this question would be to say that the fully awakened person can’t be defined, period.
And as we noted in Chapter 1, that’s exactly what he said. People are measured and defined as beings in terms of their attachments (SN 23:2). When they have no more attachments, they can’t be defined (SN 22:36), so they can’t be properly described. To try to define a Tathāgata is to imply that the Tathāgata still has attachments. It’s an attempt to limit a fully awakened person to the narrow confines of an unawakened mind. That’s what was evil about Yamaka’s view, and of any other view—such as any variety of annihilationism or eternalism—that attempts to place such limitations on what, by its nature, has no limitations at all.
The suttas, in explaining the reasons for why no one should adopt any of the positions in the tetralemma, explicitly apply these principles to the issue. The Buddha’s explanation of this point to King Pasenadi does this most explicitly and puts it in vivid terms:
“What do you think, great king? Do you have an accountant or calculator or mathematician who can count the grains of sand in the river Ganges as ‘so many grains of sand’ or ‘so many hundreds of grains of sand’ or ‘so many thousands of grains of sand’ or ‘so many hundreds of thousands of grains of sand’?”
“No, lord.”
“Then do you have an accountant or calculator or mathematician who can count the water in the great ocean as ‘so many buckets of water’ or ‘so many hundreds of buckets of water’ or ‘so many thousands of buckets of water’ or ‘so many hundreds of thousands of buckets of water’?”
“No, lord. Why is that? The great ocean is deep, boundless, hard to fathom.”
“Even so, great king, any form by which one describing the Tathāgata would describe him: That form the Tathāgata has abandoned, its root destroyed, made like a palmyra stump, deprived of the conditions of development, not destined for future arising. Freed from the classification of form, great king, the Tathāgata is deep, boundless, hard to fathom, like the ocean. ‘The Tathāgata exists after death’ doesn’t apply. ‘The Tathāgata doesn’t exist after death’ doesn’t apply. ‘The Tathāgata both exists & does not exist after death’ doesn’t apply. ‘The Tathāgata neither exists nor does not exist after death’ doesn’t apply.
“[Similarly with the other aggregates.]” — SN 44:1
In SN 44:4, Ven. Sāriputta shows the best way to make this point convincing. The four positions of the tetralemma, he says, would occur only to someone who hasn’t seen, as they’ve come to be, the aggregates, their origination, their cessation, and the path of practice leading to their cessation. For those who have seen these things, these positions simply don’t occur to their minds.
So when a group of monks ask Ven. Sāriputta to help persuade Ven. Yamaka to abandon his evil view, the best approach open to him would be to get Yamaka to see directly that the fully awakened person can’t be defined. And the best way to do that would be to get Yamaka himself to see the origination and cessation of the aggregates through gaining at least a glimpse of the deathless.
That’s precisely what Sāriputta does.
He avoids arguing with Yamaka or criticizing his evil view—after all, he wants Yamaka to feel conviction in him—so he simply starts with a series of questions: the standard questionnaire concerning the three perceptions as applied to the aggregates. By the end of the questionnaire, Yamaka has gained the Dhamma eye.
Sāriputta then quizzes him further on the various ways he might define the Tathāgata, going through almost every imaginable way of trying to define the Tathāgata vis-à-vis the aggregates in the here and now. Yamaka, having seen what happens when there is no craving or clinging for the aggregates, replies in each case that he can’t define the Tathāgata in any of those ways. Sāriputta then asks him, given that he can’t define the Tathāgata even in this lifetime, how can he say that he perishes after death?
Yamaka replies that he used to hold to that evil viewpoint, but now that he has gained the Dhamma eye, he no longer holds to it. When Sāriputta asks how he would describe what does happen at the Tathāgata’s death, Yamaka replies, “Form is inconstant… Feeling… Perception… Fabrications… Consciousness is inconstant. That which is inconstant is stressful. That which is stressful has ceased and gone to its end.”
What he doesn’t say, but what we can conclude from what we learned about the Dhamma eye in Chapter 2, is that the aggregates cease and don’t exist in the deathless, but that the deathless does exist and doesn’t cease.
Ven. Yamaka’s story is unique in that he gains two noble attainments in the course of one talk: the Dhamma eye after the first part of the talk, and total release after the second. Both halves of the talk follow the pattern of the second discourse, the only difference being that the second time around, Ven. Sāriputta illustrates the drawbacks of the aggregates with striking similes.
Perhaps the most effective of the similes is that of the man who plans to murder a king, and so works his way into the king’s trust: getting up before the king, going to bed after the king, diligently doing whatever the king tells him to do. Then, when the man finds himself alone with the king, he kills him. As Sāriputta says, the man was actually already the king’s murderer while he was still in the process of making himself appealing to the king, working his way into the king’s trust.
If we compare this image with the Buddha’s five-step program for inducing dispassion, we can see the implication: The allure of whatever we’re attached to actually contains the drawbacks deceptively within it, just as the king’s murderer was deceptively his murderer even when he was diligently doing the king’s bidding. This perception helps to get rid of any remaining nostalgia or anticipation that Yamaka might have for the allure of the aggregates in any of their past or future forms.
The Full-moon Night
In MN 109 [§55], approximately sixty monks gain full awakening on receiving the standard questionnaire about the five aggregates and the three perceptions. What’s special about this sutta is the string of events leading up to the questionnaire. One of those events involves a monk who misuses the teaching on not-self.
The sutta begins with the Buddha sitting in a large open-air assembly of monks on a very full-moon night. An unnamed monk asks the Buddha a series of detailed questions about the aggregates. This means that this sutta is the third of the four instances we mentioned in Chapter 3 in which a listener asks questions in the course of a talk that leads to awakening then and there.
Of special interest are two of the Buddha’s answers to the monk’s questions: (1) The clinging-aggregates are rooted in desire and, (2), whatever passion-and-delight there is for the aggregates counts as the clinging that turns them into clinging-aggregates.
Now, passion-and-delight and desire are often treated as synonymous in the Canon. So, put together, these two answers mean that the aggregates are not only objects of desire, but also products of desire. When you cling to the aggregates, you’re not only suffering in the present moment, but you’re also creating the conditions that will produce further aggregates into the future. If you don’t abandon your desires for the aggregates now, you keep creating more aggregates to which you could cling in the future. This process, if you don’t put an end to it by ending desire, has the potential to go on indefinitely, creating the conditions for suffering that goes on without end.
However, not all the monks in the assembly listening to these questions and answers are directing their minds toward to the end of suffering. One of them, on hearing that the aggregates are not-self, treats the idea as the basis for a metaphysical question: “So—form is not-self, feeling is not-self, perception is not-self, fabrications are not-self, consciousness is not-self. Then what self will be touched by the actions done by what is not-self?” In other words, he turns the not-self teaching into a no-self teaching. And in that no-self teaching, he sees a loophole in the teaching on kamma: If there’s no self, there’s no one responsible for actions, and no one to be harmed by actions. So you can do whatever you want.
The Buddha sees what’s going on in the monk’s mind and says, “It’s possible that a senseless person—immersed in ignorance, overcome with craving—might think that he could outsmart the Teacher’s message in this way.”
After exposing the monk’s thoughts as a misuse of the not-self teaching, the Buddha doesn’t argue with those thoughts. Instead, he shows the right way to use the not-self teaching. Here he follows the same strategy that Ven. Sāriputta used with Ven. Yamaka: He gives the assembled monks the questionnaire on the five aggregates and the three perceptions. In other words, he shows that the teaching is meant to be used not as a basis for a doctrine of no self, but as a strategy for leading to the escape from clinging. Listening to the questionnaire, approximately sixty monks use it to examine their minds and gain release from effluents. Unfortunately, we’re not told whether the monk who quizzed the Buddha or the monk who entertained the wrong view about not-self were among the sixty.
Ven. Khemaka
To understand the story of Ven. Khemaka, we have to understand a custom among the monks of the Buddha’s time. If a monk was severely ill, his fellow monks would quiz him on the level of his attainment. The purpose was twofold: If the monk had a high level of attainment, they could ask him about the Dhamma in hopes of learning from him and being inspired by his example to energize their own practice. If he didn’t, they would encourage him to set his mind on whatever level he had attained, in hopes that he would, at the very least, not fall from it, and perhaps attain something higher.
Ordinarily, monks were not supposed to discuss their attainments, even to their fellow monks, but if a monk was approaching death, any claims he might make were considered more likely to be reliable and pure in their motivation.
This is what happens in the case of Ven. Khemaka. He falls sick, and a group of elder monks send a messenger to inquire about his illness. When they learn that his condition is worsening, they quiz him, via the messenger, about his understanding of the aggregates. The messenger gets sent back and forth so many times that Ven. Khemaka eventually decides to get up and, leaning on his staff, goes to answer the questions in person.
We learn that he’s a non-returner, and the elders’ questions give him the opportunity to explain the difference between the fetter of self-identity views, which he has already abandoned, and the fetter of conceit, which he hasn’t. Self-identity views apply the perception, “I am this,” to the aggregates in any of four ways: The “I am this” is defined as identical to the aggregates, as the owner of the aggregates, as in the aggregates, or as containing the aggregates within it (MN 109; [§55]). Ven. Khemaka has abandoned all these ways of defining, “I am this.” However, he still has a lingering “I am” around the aggregates. His attachment to that “I am” is the fetter of conceit.
He illustrates this “I am” with two similes: One is that it’s like the scent of a lotus, which is not identical with any of the parts of the lotus. The other is that it’s like the scent of a cleaning agent that still lingers around newly-washed cloth. This second simile carries the implication that this lingering scent is the remnant of the sense of “I am” that plays a role as the agent cleansing the mind of unskillful qualities while developing the path, and that’s abandoned only when the path has completed its work and the “I am” as agent is no longer needed.
In the course of giving this explanation, Ven. Khemaka gains full release, as do approximately sixty other monks who were among those who asked him questions. That means that this sutta is the fourth of the four instances we mentioned in Chapter 3 in which listeners ask questions in the course of a talk that leads to awakening then and there
AN 5:26 [§22] says that it’s possible for a monk to gain a noble attainment while explaining the Dhamma to others. This is the only case of that sort actually reported in the Canon.
The Six Sextets
MN 148 [§57] reports a talk in which the Buddha applies the pattern of the second discourse to an extended analysis of the six senses and the mental phenomena based on them: in other words, the internal sense media, the external sense media, consciousness, contact, feeling, and craving. In this way, the analysis incorporates a section of dependent co-arising as well: all the factors from the six sense media through craving. The discussion focuses first on the topic of not-self, but goes on to discuss themes of inconstancy and stress as well. The Buddha concludes by saying:
“That a person—through abandoning passion-obsession with regard to a feeling of pleasure, through abolishing resistance-obsession with regard to a feeling of pain, through uprooting ignorance-obsession with regard to a feeling of neither pleasure nor pain, through abandoning ignorance and giving rise to clear knowing—would put an end to suffering & stress in the here & now: Such a thing is possible.”
When an instructed disciple of the noble ones sees this, the Buddha says, he grows disenchanted with the six sense media and the mental events based on them. From disenchantment comes dispassion; from dispassion, release.
Approximately sixty monks gain full release while listening to this discourse.
The discussion contains one distinctive point of special interest. The Buddha says that it’s not tenable to say that any of the phenomena he discusses are the self. His reasoning, exemplified in his first example, is this:
“If anyone were to say, ‘The eye is the self,’ that wouldn’t be tenable. The arising & falling away of the eye are discerned. And when its arising & falling away are discerned, it would follow that ‘My self arises & falls away.’ That’s why it wouldn’t be tenable if anyone were to say, ‘The eye is the self.’ So the eye is not-self.”
Some commentators, focusing on this argument, say that it’s proof that, for the Buddha, the term “self” must mean “permanent self.” However, that’s taking the argument out of the context of the suttas as a whole. DN 1 and DN 15 report a wide range of ideas of “self” current in the Buddha’s time, many of which were defined as impermanent. If he had wanted to limit the word “self” just to “permanent self,” he would have had to explain why he did so, given that “self,” in the context of discussions on the topic at his time, could mean “impermanent self,” too. But he never did.
And if he had used the perception of not-self to pry away acts of clinging only to ideas of a permanent self, that would have limited the usefulness of the perception. It wouldn’t have applied to ideas of an impermanent self. The implication would then be that clinging to ideas of an impermanent self would not be a cause of suffering, something blatantly untrue. It’s natural for people to cling fiercely to their sense of self when they feel that it could come to an end. Even a sense of a fluid self can be an object of obsessive clinging.
A better way to interpret the Buddha’s argument here is to apply it to any possible notion of self: Whether you believe that the self is permanent or impermanent, if you can observe the arising and passing away of what you claim to be your self, it can’t possibly be your self. If it were, you wouldn’t be there to watch it arise, and you wouldn’t be there to watch it pass away. The fact that you can see it arise and pass away means it’s not you.
The advantage of this interpretation of the argument is that it broadens the application of the perception of not-self so that it can be used to pry away any sense of clinging to any sense of self, no matter how you define it.
Contemplation of Dualities
In Sn 3:12 [§58], the Buddha is addressing a large group of monks. He states repeatedly that the purpose of listening to the Dhamma is to contemplate dualities as they have come to be—an interesting refutation of the widespread idea that the Dhamma is all about contemplating non-duality. The Buddha states further that a monk who contemplates dualities in the right way—heedful, ardent, and resolute—can expect one of two fruits: either arahantship in the here and now or non-return.
He then presents sixteen dualities, each followed by a verse. Of the sixteen, twelve follow the pattern of Ven. Assaji’s instruction to Sāriputta the wanderer: origination on the one side of the duality; cessation on the other.
The first duality presents the general framework of the four noble truths: stress and its origination on one side; its cessation and the path to its cessation on the other. It doesn’t define any of these terms, and perhaps the Buddha saw no need to, as the monks he was addressing would have been familiar with the definitions. Or, as we have seen in the case of Sāriputta and Moggallāna, simply the framework of origination and cessation could have been enough for some of the monks to apply it fruitfully to their minds.
The next eleven dualities, however, fill in the term for the origination of stress in a variety of ways. In seven cases, the origination is drawn from the standard sequence of dependent co-arising: ignorance, fabrications, consciousness, contact, feeling, craving, and clinging. In the case of clinging, which on the surface would appear to come under stress rather than the origination of stress, the Buddha points to the fact that clinging leads to becoming, which is followed by the suffering of birth and death.
The remaining four cases list causes for stress that do not appear in the standard sequence of dependent co-arising: acquisition, arousal, nutriment, and what is perturbed.
“Acquisition” (upadhi), in its everyday sense, denotes the possessions, baggage, and other paraphernalia that a nomadic family might carry around in the course of its wanderings. On the psychological level, it denotes anything for which one might have a sense of “I” or “mine” and which, consequently, one would carry around as a kind of mental baggage.
“Arousal” (ārambha) is a word with many possible meanings in Pāli. Among them: disruption; seizure of an object; inception of action, often with violent connotations. The verse connected to this duality associates arousal with craving.
“Nutriment” (āhāra) is defined in SN 12:63 as follows: “There are these four nutriments for the maintenance of beings who have come into being or for the support of those in search of a place to be born. Which four? Physical food, gross or refined; contact as the second, intellectual intention the third, and consciousness the fourth.” This term appears in a few non-standard descriptions of dependent co-arising, where it takes the place of clinging. Given that the Pāli word for clinging, upādāna, also means sustenance and the act of taking sustenance, this place for “nutriment” is appropriate.
“What is perturbed” (iñjita) is not defined in the Canon. The verse connected to this duality seems to imply that it covers any state of mind that’s agitated to the point of giving rise to fabrications.
From the structure of the Buddha’s list of dualities, it appears that the dualities up to this point are offered as alternatives for the monks to contemplate so that they can see what’s causing stress in their minds as they’re listening to the Buddha talk, and what they need to abandon so as to experience the cessation of stress.
The remaining four dualities reflect on the experience of unbinding and the steps of the third noble truth leading up to it. These dualities function in two ways: For those listeners who have already attained the highest goal, they celebrate that attainment. For those who are not there yet, these dualities point out areas where they may still have remaining traces of clinging around the experience. This encourages them to abandon those traces for the sake of total release.
The first two of these reflections point out that the goal is unwavering because it’s independent, and more refined than even the formless levels of concentration.
The other two point out how unbinding is true and blissful in ways that ordinary people can’t understand. For ordinary people, the truth is that name and form are their self, whereas anything more unchanging than this truth would be impossible. Noble ones, however, see that name and form change so fast that by the time you’ve formed an assumption that they’re you or yours, they’ve already turned into something else. That’s how they’re deceptive. Unbinding, however, is unchanging and so doesn’t deceive.
Similarly, the people of the world regard the pleasures of the six senses as blissful, and the ending of those pleasures as stressful, whereas noble ones have seen the pleasures of the senses as stressful, and that there’s a far greater bliss that comes with the cessation that leads beyond the six senses entirely. This bliss brings a freedom to which only those who are truly worthy can awaken.
By examining their minds while listening to this talk, approximately sixty monks gained full release.
Bāhiya
One of the most famous and controversial stories of awakening gained while listening to a Dhamma talk is that of Bāhiya of the Bark Cloth. The instructions the Buddha gives him are, on the surface, unrelated to the patterns established by the more standard awakening accounts. As a result, those instructions have inspired a wide variety of interpretations, many of which depart widely from what the Canon has to say about awakening in other suttas. So we’ll have to look carefully to see exactly what the Buddha said and what he later reported to have meant when he said it. When we do, we find that his instructions actually follow the pattern established by Ven. Assaji’s instructions to Sāriputta the wanderer. The Buddha focused Bāhiya’s attention on one of the causal connections contained in dependent co-arising. As a result, Bāhiya—like Sāriputta before him—was able to intuit the implications of that focus. He surpassed Sāriputta, however, in gaining full release when he did.
His story is a dramatic one. An ascetic who lived by the seashore on the west coast of India, Bāhiya was worshipped and honored by the local lay people. He began to suspect that he might be an arahant or at least practicing the way to arahantship. A female deva who had been a relative in a previous lifetime saw this question in Bāhiya’s mind and, out of compassion, appeared to him and told him that he wasn’t even on the path to arahantship, much less an arahant. He asked her if there were any arahants in the world, and she pointed him to the Buddha, who was approximately 1,200 miles away, near the city of Sāvatthī, in the northern part of the Ganges Valley.
Bāhiya immediately left to find the Buddha. The story says that he made the journey in one night, which implies that he had some psychic powers derived from practicing concentration. The speed with which he traveled may have also symbolized the speed of his mind. Arriving early the next morning, he went to the Buddha’s monastery outside of Sāvatthī, only to learn that the Buddha had gone into the city for alms. Bāhiya tracked him down and, impressed by his consummate demeanor, threw himself down on the ground with his head at the Buddha’s feet and implored him to teach the Dhamma.
At first the Buddha refused Bāhiya’s request, saying that the alms round wasn’t the proper time or place to teach. But Bāhiya insisted, arguing that there was no guarantee for how much longer he or the Buddha might live. After Bāhiya repeated the request two more times, the Buddha relented and taught him. The instructions he gave were cryptic, and perhaps intentionally so. We’ve already noted, in connection with Ven. Assaji’s instructions to Sāriputta the wanderer, the ancient Indian tradition of intellectual riddles presented as a challenge. Perhaps the Buddha was intentionally challenging Bāhiya. But as we’ll see, Bāhiya was up to the challenge.
The Buddha said:
“Then, Bāhiya, you should train yourself thus: In reference to the seen, there will be only the seen. In reference to the heard, only the heard. In reference to the sensed [i.e., the smelled, the tasted, the touched], only the sensed. In reference to the cognized, only the cognized. That is how you should train yourself.
“When for you there will be only the seen in reference to the seen, only the heard in reference to the heard, only the sensed in reference to the sensed, only the cognized in reference to the cognized, then, Bāhiya, there is no you in connection with that. When there is no you in connection with that, there is no you there. When there is no you there, you are neither here nor yonder nor between the two. This, just this, is the end of suffering.” — Ud 1:10
Immediately on hearing these instructions, Bāhiya attained full awakening. Not long after that, he was killed by a cow protective of her young calf. When the monks informed the Buddha of Bāhiya’s death, he told them to cremate the body and build a memorial over it. Even though Bāhiya had not ordained, his awakening qualified him as one of them. Later, the Buddha cited him as foremost among his disciples in gaining quick realization.
The story has become famous, both for the drama of the events and for the brief instructions that had such a momentous effect. Some people treat the instructions as a streamlined guide to awakening, shorn of what they see as extraneous explanations in the Buddha’s other teachings. However, there’s another sutta in the Canon—SN 35:95 [§60]—in which the Buddha explains these instructions to the monk Ven. Māluṅkyaputta in such a way as to show (a) that they contain many implications that only a person of sharp intelligence would even suspect, and (b) that the Buddha’s other teachings contain nothing in excess. But even the explanations to Māluṅkyaputta are relatively brief. So it’s no surprise that many people over the centuries have tried to tease out even further the implications of Ud 1:10 [§59] and SN 35:95—both for the first part of the instructions, the training they recommend; and for the second part, the rewards the training is supposed to yield—to see how these instructions can be applied in practice.
Of course, in Bāhiya’s case, the instructions were not the whole story. There were also the character traits he brought to them. He wasn’t a blank slate. And an important key to understanding what he saw in the instructions lies in knowing what was on the slate.
Details in Bāhiya’s story suggest that he possessed all five of the qualities for listening successfully to the Dhamma listed in AN 5:151[§27]. His desire to find the Buddha immediately, the lengths to which he went to track the Buddha down, and the extreme homage he paid to the Buddha on meeting him are all signs that he respected the Buddha and was primed to respect whatever Dhamma lesson the Buddha gave. A detail that might be easy to overlook is the fact that his homage to the Buddha was in immediate response to seeing the latter’s demeanor while on his alms round. In the symbolic language of the Canon, this is a sign of the integrity that holds virtue in respect. There were cases where other people, on seeing restrained monks on their alms round, ridiculed them—“Who is this weakest of weaklings, this dullest of dullards, this most snobbish of snobs? Who, if this one approached, would even give him alms?”—a sign that they didn’t appreciate virtue. But Bāhiya did.
Bāhiya’s self-respect is shown in his courage in not getting deflected by the Buddha’s first two refusals. He wouldn’t let etiquette get in the way of his ardent desire for awakening.
His powers of concentration are suggested by his ability to travel long distances in so short a time. It seems reasonable to assume that he applied those powers to listening to the Buddha’s instructions.
And as for appropriate attention, again we can only assume that Bāhiya applied it, but he was steered in that direction by the format of the Buddha’s instructions, which follow the format of the fourth and third noble truths: what training to follow so as to arrive at the cessation of suffering.
The Training. What exactly is that training? In other words, how do you practice in a way that in the seen there is only the seen, and so forth?
Many answers have been given to these questions over the centuries, but three in particular are popular at present: With reference to the seen there is only the seen—
1) when the act of seeing is regarded from the perspective of a mind in deep concentration;
2) when bare attention is applied to the act of seeing, while at the same time maintaining choiceless awareness with regard to all phenomena, free from judgment or any conceptual framework at all; or
3) when the act of seeing occurs without papañca: the mental proliferation that starts with the perception, “I am the thinker,” and that eventually leads to conflict.
All three of these interpretations are problematic, although each is problematic in its own way.
• The first interpretation is problematic because Bāhiya was already practicing concentration before meeting the Buddha, and his concentration was strong enough to give him psychic powers. In the Canon’s standard description of psychic powers, that would mean at least the fourth jhāna. If the simple act of viewing sensory input from the perspective of a concentrated mind were automatically enough to gain awakening, Bāhiya would have become awakened while staying on the seashore. As the noble eightfold path makes clear, concentration is needed for awakening, but discernment is required as well. And while concentration is necessary for fostering discernment, it doesn’t automatically lead to it.
• The second interpretation is contradicted by the fact that, while listening to the Dhamma, Bāhiya would have to have been using the conceptual framework of appropriate attention. This is a framework that makes distinctions and requires choices based on value judgments, as you figure out what should be developed and what should be let go.
As we noted in Chapter 1, when the Buddha discusses attention elsewhere in the Canon, he mentions only two kinds: appropriate and inappropriate. He never mentions bare attention, and there appear to be two reasons why.
(a) Given that he defined attention in connection with the right and wrong way to frame questions (MN 2 [§32]), it’s hard to see what bare attention would mean in that context. If bare attention has no framework, what questions would there be without a frame? And given that the Buddha’s own quest for awakening was framed and guided by the questions he asked, what kind of awakening could come to a mind with no questions?
(b) Given that the factor of attention appears in dependent co-arising after other factors with many sub-factors, it’s hard to see how bare attention would even be possible. Every act of attention would have to be conditioned by the preceding factors, and so couldn’t possibly be bare.
So neither of the first two interpretations would fit into the larger framework of the Buddha’s teachings on how best to listen to the Dhamma.
• The third interpretation, that you have to cut away papañca, seems more likely on its face, in that it fits into the framework of appropriate attention: Papañca, as we noted in Chapter 4, is a type of thinking that assails the person who thinks it, meaning that it falls under the first noble truth and so has to be comprehended. This implies that its cause—the perception “I am the thinker”—falls under the second noble truth and so has to be abandoned. The practical upshot then—in order to regard the seen only as the seen and so forth—would be to abandon any extraneous thinking around the seen, starting with the thought “I am this.” In other words, if you can avoid such thoughts as, “I am seeing,” or, “This sight is appearing to me,” you would be left with only the seen.
This is precisely what many people who follow this interpretation recommend. As they explain it, all that’s required is a conceptual paradigm shift, in which the processes of sensory experience are regarded in impersonal rather than personal terms. When the conceptual error of “I am this” has been removed, all sensory experiences—from sights through ideas, good or bad, skillful or unskillful—are simply registered for what they are on their own. Once the idea of “person” is taken out of the picture, there’s no one who has any further responsibilities beyond that point. This doesn’t mean that there won’t be any responses, simply that there’s no person responsible for them. Some even suggest that this freedom from further responsibilities is the end of suffering.
But there are two passages in the Canon suggesting that the Buddha is actually recommending something that goes deeper than erasing “I am this” as a conceptual error.
The first is the standard description of dependent co-arising (SN 12:2), which lists many steps between sensory contact and the act of assuming a sense of self-identity. Sensory contact conditions feeling. Feeling conditions craving—which is equated to desire and passion (SN 42:11)—for sensuality, for becoming, or for non-becoming. Sensuality is fascination with sensual fantasies and plans. Becoming is the conceiving of a self-identity in a world—mental or physical—in which the desired object or activity is found. Non-becoming is the desire to see a state of becoming destroyed. All three of these types of craving lead to states of becoming, meaning that they all contain the seed of a sense of “I am.”
The steps in dependent co-arising that we’ve mentioned so far—from contact through craving—fit under the second noble truth, the cause of suffering, which is to be abandoned.
Craving then conditions clinging. Clinging, like craving, is equated to desire and passion (SN 22:122 [§34]; SN 35:110). The difference between craving and clinging is indicated by the Pāli terms used for them. As we noted in Chapter 4, the term for craving, taṇhā, also means thirst. The term for clinging, upādāna, also means taking sustenance. Craving is the act of hungering for food for the mind; clinging is the act of taking hold of that food and continuing to hold on to it as you consume it. In either case, the desire and passion are what is to be abandoned. Under the first noble truth, the fact that suffering consists of the act of clinging to any of the aggregates—form, feeling, perceptions, thought fabrications, or consciousness—is what is to be comprehended. The desire and passion for those aggregates are what is to be abandoned (SN 22:139; SN 22:142; SN 22:145).
The Buddha lists four types of clinging: for sensuality, for views, for habits and practices, and for ideas of a self. The last of the four is implicit in the other three.
If you look carefully at these steps, you’ll see that a sense of identity doesn’t appear right after sensory contact. It appears a few steps later, as a potential under craving and clinging, and as realized in the “I am this” of becoming. In all these cases, it serves the purposes of desire and passion. This indicates that to go beyond any suffering involved in a sense of identity, you can’t drop it simply as a conceptual error. You have to cut away the desires and passions it serves.
This is exactly the point of the Buddha’s explanation of his instructions to Bāhiya in SN 35:95. There, he gives the same instructions to Māluṅkyaputta—who, we are told, was already ardent and resolute in his practice. Then he asks Māluṅkyaputta how he understands them. Māluṅkyaputta’s reply focuses on the first part of the instructions, the training, and explains it in two sets of verses, each set containing one verse for each of the six senses. The first set of verses describes the problem the training is supposed to solve; the second set, the solution. After Māluṅkyaputta states these verses, the Buddha repeats them, saying that his understanding is correct. So they can be taken as the words of the Buddha himself.
The verses in each set all follow the same pattern, so we can focus on the first verse in each set, dealing with the act of seeing.
First, the problem:
Seeing a form —mindfulness lapsed— attending to the theme of “endearing,” impassioned in mind, one feels and remains fastened on it. One’s feelings, born of the form, grow numerous, Greed & annoyance injure one’s mind. Thus amassing stress, one is said to be far from unbinding.
Then the solution:
Not impassioned with forms —seeing a form with mindfulness firm— dispassioned in mind, one knows and doesn’t remain fastened on it. While one is seeing a form —and even experiencing feeling— it falls away and doesn’t accumulate. Thus one fares mindfully. Thus not amassing stress, one is said to be in the presence of unbinding.
Notice that neither verse mentions the issue of identity or the thought, “I am this.” Instead—and in line with the standard definition of the second noble truth—the verse from the first set attributes the problem to passion, sparked by the act of attending to the “theme of endearing,” which in turn comes from a lack of mindfulness.
To take these points in order:
Passion denotes the desire and passion found in craving and clinging.
Attending to the theme of endearing denotes the act of looking for something desirable in the sight, even to the extent of making it look desirable if nothing endearing is immediately obvious. Notice that the verse places this act between the sense contact and the resulting feeling. This means that it occurs well before any sense of “I am this.” In fact, according to the standard sequence of dependent co-arising, the act of attention actually occurs before sensory contact, under the factor of name-and-form. This means that the mind is already primed to look for something endearing in a particular sight, even before the sight occurs.
This is a case of inappropriate attention. So to solve the problem, you have to be mindful to develop appropriate attention—and then to remember not to attend to the theme of the endearing the next time you see a sight. Because appropriate attention frames things in terms of right view, this means that the approach Māluṅkyaputta recommends is in line with the fourth noble truth, which begins with right view.
Mindfulness is what keeps right view in mind. Here it’s important to remember that mindfulness doesn’t mean bare attention or choiceless awareness. The Buddha defines it as a faculty of the active memory, the ability to call to mind even things that were done or said long ago (SN 48:10). The verse stating the problem doesn’t explicitly mention what you’re supposed to keep in mind in the case of the seen, etc., although the verse describing the solution seems to imply that you should also be mindful of the drawbacks—the suffering in the greed and annoyance—that have come from attending to the theme of endearing in the past.
The verse from the second set emphasizes the point that you have to become dispassionate toward sights if you want to solve the problem. It doesn’t say explicitly how to do this, but implicitly it refers to the Buddha’s five-step program for escaping from passion, which we discussed in Chapter 1. As the Buddha points out in SN 48:4 [§9], this approach can be applied not only to unskillful qualities, but also to the factors of the path after they’ve completed their work. This approach can thus take you to an all-around liberation—which is apparently how Bāhiya attained full awakening.
What this means is that to practice in such a way that, in reference to the seen, there is only the seen, etc., you have to develop appropriate attention well before the stage where papañca arises. The problem is not the “I am” of papañca; it’s the passion that the “I am” is generated to serve. So, in line with the Buddha’s general approach in the four noble truths, you have to attack the “I am” not directly, but at the cause that makes it unskillful.
Because appropriate attention is a mental framework that involves discernment, makes distinctions, and requires choices, the practice of concentration on its own isn’t equal to the task, nor are the practices of bare attention or choiceless awareness. You have to actively want to overcome the passion that feeds and is fed by the desire to look for what’s endearing in the objects of the senses. Developing appropriate attention and skillful intentions in this way requires work.
The Rewards. SN 35:95 doesn’t explicitly discuss the other cryptic part of the Buddha’s instructions to Bāhiya—the rewards that come from this practice—but it does contain a passage that provides a background for understanding those rewards.
The issue revolves around the question of location. What did the Buddha mean when he said, “When there is no you in connection with that, there is no you there. When there is no you there, you are neither here nor yonder nor between the two. This, just this, is the end of suffering”?
A first step in understanding this passage lies in knowing what it means for the mind to have a location. This is a point that the Buddha hints at in SN 35:95. Before quoting to Māluṅkyaputta the instructions to Bāhiya, he raises a series of questions about the six senses. The questions all take the same form, so we can focus on the first:
“What do you think, Māluṅkyaputta? The forms cognizable via the eye that are unseen by you—that you have never before seen, that you don’t see, and that are not to be seen by you: Do you have any desire or passion or love there?”
“No, lord.”
Obviously, it’s possible to have desire for a sight you haven’t seen. However—and this distinction is important—the desire is not “there” at the unseen sight. Rather, it’s there at the idea of the unseen sight, as that idea is cognized in the present. Knowing precisely where in the present your passion and desire are located—where craving is located—is a necessary step in ferreting out the craving and abandoning it. If you think it’s located in one spot when it’s actually located in another—as when you think you love another person but are actually in love with your ideas of the person—all your efforts to abandon the craving will be off target. This point has important implications for finding the allure of something so that you can effectively compare the allure with the drawbacks.
Yet the connection between craving and location goes deeper. The Buddha treats craving as a creator of locations, “now here, now there.” Think of the process of becoming: You focus on an object you desire, you identify the world in which that object is found, and then you take on an identity within that world. This can happen in connection with a physical world or a mental world. When this happens, you’ve assumed a mental location in that world. It’s in this way that consciousness gets established and proliferates (SN 22:54).
But when there are no cravings, then concepts of self-identity and even of existence and non-existence that would serve those cravings get called into question (SN 12:15). At the same time, no becomings can form. So when the Buddha says that there is no you in connection with a sight, etc., he’s saying that you haven’t entered into a becoming inspired by that sight. When there’s no becoming, there’s no identity within a becoming, so you have no place to stay or to go (SN 1:1). Because time and space allow for only two alternatives here—staying and going—when you engage in neither, you’re released from space and time. That’s when you’re free from location.
This point is in line with many other passages in the Canon stating that those who are fully awakened cannot be located and so are “everywhere released” (Dhp 348; Thag 14:1; Thig 14).
The dimension experienced at this point, apart from the six senses, is also devoid of the attributes of space and time.
“There is that dimension, monks, where there is neither earth, nor water, nor fire, nor wind; neither dimension of the infinitude of space, nor dimension of the infinitude of consciousness, nor dimension of nothingness, nor dimension of neither perception nor non-perception; neither this world, nor the next world, nor sun, nor moon. And there, I say, there is neither coming, nor going, nor staying; neither passing away nor arising: unestablished, unevolving, without support [mental object]. This, just this, is the end of stress.” — Ud 8:1
“One who is dependent has wavering. One who is independent has no wavering. There being no wavering, there is calm. There being calm, there is no yearning. There being no yearning, there is no coming or going. There being no coming or going, there is no passing away or arising. There being no passing away or arising, there is neither a here nor a yonder nor a between-the-two. This, just this, is the end of stress.” — Ud 8:4
If, after experiencing this dimension, your past kamma brings you back to the six senses, you experience them disjoined from them (MN 140; SN 36:6; SN 47:4). In other words, there’s no desire or passion for the objects of the senses that would inspire you to feed on them. This is the point of Ven. Nandaka’s image of the butchered cow [§50] that we saw in Chapter 7.
Those who are awakened in this way have cut through the conceit, “I am.” They can perceive the world of the senses without assuming a being who senses an object or an object to be sensed. In other words, they don’t assume anything extra on the near or far side of a sensation.
“Thus, monks, the Tathāgata, when seeing what is to be seen, doesn’t suppose an (object as) seen. He doesn’t suppose an unseen. He doesn’t suppose an (object) to-be-seen. He doesn’t suppose a seer.
“When hearing.…
“When sensing.…
“When cognizing what is to be cognized, he doesn’t suppose an (object as) cognized. He doesn’t suppose an uncognized. He doesn’t suppose an (object) to-be-cognized. He doesn’t suppose a cognizer.” — AN 4:24
From this point of view, those who are awakened can still use the concepts of “I” and “me,” but not in the service of the desires and passions that would lead them to cling to the conceit, “I am” (SN 1:25) or the identity, “I am this” (SN 22:89). They can act on intentions, but can burn any seeds coming from those intentions that would lead to karmic results (AN 3:34). How they have mastered these skills, though, only they would understand.
In Context. The Buddha’s instructions to Bāhiya, when taken out of context, have often been interpreted as directions not to engage in any processing of sensory input. We’ve been told that for there to be, “in reference to the seen, only the seen,” we have to approach the seen while keeping in check any conceptual framework, any choice, any act of judgment, any assumption of an agent to do the seeing or to process what is seen. Mindfulness, from this perspective, means maintaining an attitude of non-judging acceptance toward whatever happens.
However, when we take the Buddha’s instructions in context, we can see that he’s actually recommending a skillful pro-active processing of what is seen. The mental event that has to be kept in check is something very specific: the passion that would lead to suffering and stress. To do this, you have to develop appropriate attention toward any impulse to regard the seen as endearing, which in turn requires that you judge the allure of the seen—or of the thought of “endearing”—as not worth the drawbacks of falling for that allure. Then you have to keep this judgment in mind with everything you see, hear, sense, and cognize. The ability to keep this judgment in mind is the actual function of mindfulness in this case.
In other words, instead of truncating your mental faculties, you use them wisely to attack the problem precisely at its cause: the passion that wants to find in the six senses endearing things to feed on. When your attack is strategically on target, you have a chance of getting the best results.
When we understand the instructions to Bāhiya in this way, we can see that they fall in line with the teaching that provides the framework for all the Buddha’s teachings and all experiences of awakening: the standard definition of the four noble truths. Suffering is caused not by conceptual frameworks or judgments in general, but by the desire and passion that constitute craving. The path to its ending starts with appropriate attention to that craving—in other words, the distinctions drawn by the framework of right view, and the choices and duties following on those distinctions.
This explanation of the Buddha’s instructions to Bāhiya may sound more complex than many of the one-factor solutions proposed by other interpretations, and you might ask how Bāhiya could comprehend all this while bowing at the Buddha’s feet. But remember: Bāhiya was fast. He could see immediately that the problem following on the seen was passion, and that it had to be attacked at whatever fed the passion. Once he had clearly gained that insight, all the factors for a noble attainment were in place: joyous conviction, persistence, mindfulness, concentration, and discernment. Everything else followed in a flash.
Readings
§ 51. Then the Blessed One, traveling by stages, arrived at Uruvelā. At that time, three dreadlocked ascetics were dwelling near Uruvelā: Uruvelakassapa, Nadīkassapa, & Gayākassapa. Among them, Uruvelakassapa was the leader of five hundred dreadlocked ascetics—their trainer, head, foremost, & chief. Nadīkassapa was the leader of three hundred dreadlocked ascetics—their trainer, head, foremost, & chief. Gayākassapa was the leader of two hundred dreadlocked ascetics—their trainer, head, foremost, & chief.
Then the Blessed One went to Uruvelakassapa’s ashram and said to Uruvelakassapa, “If it’s not a burden for you, Kassapa, we would stay one night in your fire hall.”
“It’s not a burden for me, Great Contemplative. But there is a fierce nāga king there—powerful, a fanged snake, terrifyingly poisonous. May he not harass you.”
A second time… A third time, the Blessed One said to Uruvelakassapa, “If it’s not a burden for you, Kassapa, we would stay one night in your fire hall.”
“It’s not a burden for me, Great Contemplative. But there is a fierce nāga king there—powerful, a fanged snake, terrifyingly poisonous. May he not harass you.”
“Perhaps he wouldn’t harass me. Please, Kassapa, allow the fire hall.”
“Stay as you like, Great Contemplative.”
Then the Blessed One, having entered the fire hall and laid out a grass mat, sat down cross-legged with his body erect, establishing mindfulness to the fore. The nāga saw that the Blessed One had entered and, on seeing him, was upset, disgruntled, and emitted smoke. The thought occurred to the Blessed One, “Why don’t I—without damaging his outer skin, inner skin, flesh, tendons, bones, or bone marrow—consume the nāga’s fire with my own fire?”
Then the Blessed One fabricated such a fabrication of supranormal power that he emitted smoke. The nāga, unable to bear the insult, blazed up. The Blessed One entered the fire property and blazed up. With both of them all ablaze, the fire hall was as if on fire—flaming & glowing.
Then the dreadlocked ascetics surrounded the fire hall and thought, “That handsome Great Contemplative is being harassed by the nāga!”
Then, as the night was ending, the Blessed One, having consumed the nāga’s fire with fire—without damaging his outer skin, inner skin, flesh, tendons, bones, or bone marrow—put him in his bowl and showed him to Uruvelakassapa, the dreadlocked ascetic, “Here, Kassapa, is your nāga, his fire consumed by fire.”
The thought occurred to Uruvelakassapa, “He’s powerful, the Great Contemplative, and mighty, in that he consumed with fire the fire of the fierce nāga king, the fanged snake, terrifyingly poisonous! But still, he’s not an arahant like me.” …
[Here follow many psychic powers displayed by the Buddha.]
At that time, a great, out-of-season storm cloud rained down, and a great flood was produced. The place where the Blessed One was staying was inundated with the water. He thought, “Why don’t I, pushing the water back all around, walk back & forth in the middle on dusty ground?”
Then the Blessed One, pushing the water back all around, walked back & forth in the middle on dusty ground.
Then Uruvelakassapa, (thinking,) “May the Great Contemplative not be carried away by the water!” went by boat with many dreadlocked ascetics to the place where the Blessed One was staying. Uruvelakassapa saw the Blessed One, having pushed the water back all around, walking back & forth in the middle on dusty ground. He said, “Are you here, Great Contemplative?”
Saying, “Yes, I am, Kassapa,” the Blessed One rose up into the air and came down in the boat.
The thought occurred to Uruvelakassapa, “He’s powerful, the Great Contemplative, and mighty, in that he wasn’t carried away by the water. But still, he’s not an arahant like me.”
Then it occurred to the Blessed One, “For a long time this worthless man keeps having the thought, ‘He’s powerful, the Great Contemplative, and mighty, but still, he’s not an arahant like me.’ What if I were to terrify this dreadlocked ascetic?”
So he said to Uruvelakassapa, “You, Kassapa, are neither an arahant nor one endowed with the path to arahantship. You don’t even have a way of practice by which you would become an arahant or one endowed with the path to arahantship.”
Then Uruvelakassapa, putting his head down at the feet of the Blessed One, said, “May I receive the Going-forth in the Blessed One’s presence? May I receive the Acceptance?”
“Kassapa, you are the leader of five hundred dreadlocked ascetics—their trainer, head, foremost, & chief. Inform them of this, (so that) they will do what they think (is appropriate).”
Then Uruvelakassapa went to the dreadlocked ascetics and, on arrival, said to them, “Sirs, I want to live the holy life under the Great Contemplative. Do what you think (is appropriate).”
“For a long time, sir, we’ve been highly impressed with the Great Contemplative. If you’re going to live the holy life under him, all of us will likewise live the holy life under him.”
So the dreadlocked ascetics—having let the water carry away the mingled mess of their hair, their dreadlocks, their ritual vessels, carrying poles, & fire-worship paraphernalia—went to the Blessed One. On arrival, having put their heads at the Blessed One’s feet, they said, “May we receive the Going-forth in the Blessed One’s presence? May we receive the Acceptance?”
“Come, monks,” said the Blessed One. “Well taught is the Dhamma. Live the holy life for the right ending of stress.”
That was the venerable ones’ Acceptance.
[The two remaining bands of ascetics are quickly converted.]
Then the Blessed One, having stayed near Uruvelā as long as he liked, set out for Gayā Head with a large Saṅgha of monks—a thousand monks, all of them the former dreadlocked ascetics. And the Blessed One stayed right there at Gayā Head with the thousand monks. There he addressed the monks:
“Monks, the All is aflame. Which All is aflame? The eye is aflame. Forms are aflame. Eye-consciousness is aflame. Eye-contact is aflame. And whatever there is that arises in dependence on eye-contact—experienced as pleasure, pain or neither-pleasure-nor-pain—that too is aflame. Aflame with what? Aflame with the fire of passion, the fire of aversion, the fire of delusion. Aflame, I tell you, with birth, aging & death, with sorrows, lamentations, pains, distresses, & despairs.
“The ear is aflame. Sounds are aflame.…
“The nose is aflame. Aromas are aflame.…
“The tongue is aflame. Flavors are aflame.…
“The body is aflame. Tactile sensations are aflame.…
“The intellect is aflame. Ideas are aflame. Intellect-consciousness is aflame. Intellect-contact is aflame. And whatever there is that arises in dependence on intellect-contact—experienced as pleasure, pain or neither-pleasure-nor-pain—that too is aflame. Aflame with what? Aflame with the fire of passion, the fire of aversion, the fire of delusion. Aflame, I say, with birth, aging & death, with sorrows, lamentations, pains, distresses, & despairs.
“Seeing thus, the instructed disciple of the noble ones grows disenchanted with the eye, disenchanted with forms, disenchanted with eye-consciousness, disenchanted with eye-contact. And whatever there is that arises in dependence on eye-contact, experienced as pleasure, pain or neither-pleasure-nor-pain: With that, too, he grows disenchanted.
“He grows disenchanted with the ear.…
“He grows disenchanted with the nose.…
“He grows disenchanted with the tongue.…
“He grows disenchanted with the body.…
“He grows disenchanted with the intellect, disenchanted with ideas, disenchanted with intellect-consciousness, disenchanted with intellect-contact. And whatever there is that arises in dependence on intellect-contact, experienced as pleasure, pain or neither-pleasure-nor-pain: With that, too, he grows disenchanted. Disenchanted, he becomes dispassionate. Through dispassion, he is released. With release, there is the knowledge, ‘Released.’ He discerns that ‘Birth is ended, the holy life fulfilled, the task done. There is nothing further for this world.’”
That is what the Blessed One said. Gratified, the monks delighted in the Blessed One’s words. And while this explanation was being given, the minds of the thousand monks, through lack of clinging/sustenance, were released from effluents.
§ 52. Now on that occasion, the Blessed One was staying near Rājagaha, in the Bamboo Forest, the Squirrels’ Sanctuary. Then thirty monks from Pāva—all wilderness dwellers, all alms-goers, all cast-off rag wearers, all triple-robe wearers, all still with fetters—went to the Blessed One and, on arrival, having bowed down to him, sat to one side.
Then the thought occurred to the Blessed One, “These thirty monks from Pāva… are all still with fetters. What if I were to teach them the Dhamma in such a way that in this very sitting their minds, through lack of clinging, would be released from effluents?”
So he addressed the monks: “Monks.”
“Yes, lord,” the monks responded.
The Blessed One said, “From an inconceivable beginning comes the wandering-on. A beginning point is not discernible, though beings hindered by ignorance and fettered by craving are transmigrating & wandering on. What do you think, monks? Which is greater, the blood you have shed from having your heads cut off while transmigrating & wandering this long, long time, or the water in the four great oceans?”
“As we understand the Dhamma taught to us by the Blessed One, this is the greater: the blood we have shed from having our heads cut off while transmigrating & wandering this long, long time, not the water in the four great oceans.”
“Excellent, monks. Excellent. It is excellent that you thus understand the Dhamma taught by me.
“This is the greater: the blood you have shed from having your heads cut off while transmigrating & wandering this long, long time, not the water in the four great oceans.
“The blood you have shed when, being cows, you had your cow-heads cut off: Long has this been greater than the water in the four great oceans.
“The blood you have shed when, being water buffaloes, you had your water buffalo-heads cut off… when, being rams, you had your ram-heads cut off… when, being goats, you had your goat-heads cut off… when, being deer, you had your deer-heads cut off… when, being chickens, you had your chicken-heads cut off… when, being pigs, you had your pig-heads cut off: Long has this been greater than the water in the four great oceans.
“The blood you have shed when, arrested as thieves plundering villages, you had your heads cut off… when, arrested as highway thieves, you had your heads cut off… when, arrested as adulterers, you had your heads cut off: Long has this been greater than the water in the four great oceans.
“Why is that? From an inconceivable beginning comes the wandering-on. A beginning point is not discernible, though beings hindered by ignorance and fettered by craving are transmigrating & wandering on. Long have you thus experienced stress, experienced pain, experienced loss, swelling the cemeteries—enough to become disenchanted with all fabrications, enough to become dispassionate, enough to be released.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Gratified, the monks delighted in the Blessed One’s words. And while this explanation was being given, the minds of the thirty monks from Pāva—through lack of clinging—were released from effluents.
§ 53. On one occasion the Blessed One was wandering among the Kosalans with a large Saṅgha of monks. He saw, as he was going along the road in a certain district, a large mass of fire—aflame, blazing, aglow. Seeing it, he went down from the road and sat down on a seat made ready at the root of a certain tree.
Seated, he said to the monks, “Monks, do you see that large mass of fire—aflame, blazing, aglow?”
“Yes, lord.”
[1] “What do you think, monks: Which would be better? To sit or lie down hugging that great mass of fire—aflame, blazing, aglow—or to sit or lie down hugging a noble-warrior maiden or brahman maiden or householder maiden with soft & tender hands & feet?”
“Of course this would be better, lord: to sit or lie down hugging a noble-warrior maiden or brahman maiden or householder maiden with soft & tender hands & feet. It would simply be painful to sit or lie down hugging that great mass of fire—aflame, blazing, aglow.”
“I inform you, monks. I warn you, monks: For someone who is unprincipled, of evil character—unclean and suspect in his dealings, hidden in his actions, not a contemplative though claiming to be one, not leading the holy life though claiming to do so, inwardly rotten, oozing with desire, filthy by nature—it would be better to sit or lie down hugging that great mass of fire—aflame, blazing, aglow.
“Why is that? For that reason he would undergo death or death-like pain, but he would not on that account, at the breakup of the body, after death, fall into a plane of deprivation, a bad destination, a lower realm, hell. But if someone who is unprincipled, of evil character… filthy by nature were to sit or lie down hugging a noble-warrior maiden or brahman maiden or householder maiden with soft & tender hands & feet, it would be for his long-term harm & pain. At the breakup of the body, after death, he would fall into a plane of deprivation, a bad destination, a lower realm, hell.
[2] “What do you think, monks: Which would be better? For a strong man, having wrapped a rough horse-hair rope around both your shins, to tighten it so that it would cut through the skin; having cut through the skin, it would cut through the inner skin; having cut through the inner skin, it would cut through the flesh; having cut through the flesh, it would cut through the tendons; having cut through the tendons, it would cut through the bone; having cut through the bone, it would destroy the marrow—or for you to consent to the homage paid by affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders?”
“Of course this would be better, lord: to consent to the homage paid by affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders. It would simply be painful for a strong man, having wrapped a rough horse-hair rope around both our shins, to tighten it so that it would cut through the skin; having cut through the skin, it would cut through the inner skin; having cut through the inner skin, it would cut through the flesh; having cut through the flesh, it would cut through the tendons; having cut through the tendons, it would cut through the bone; having cut through the bone, it would destroy the marrow.”
“I inform you, monks. I warn you, monks: For someone who is unprincipled, of evil character—unclean and suspect in his dealings, hidden in his actions, not a contemplative though claiming to be one, not leading the holy life though claiming to do so, inwardly rotten, oozing with desire, filthy by nature—it would be better for a strong man, having wrapped a rough horse-hair rope around both his shins, to tighten it so that it would cut through the skin; having cut through the skin, it would cut through the inner skin; having cut through the inner skin, it would cut through the flesh; having cut through the flesh, it would cut through the tendons; having cut through the tendons, it would cut through the bone; having cut through the bone, it would destroy the marrow.
“Why is that? For that reason he would undergo death or death-like pain, but he would not on that account, at the breakup of the body, after death, fall into a plane of deprivation, a bad destination, a lower realm, hell. But if someone who is unprincipled, of evil character… filthy by nature were to consent to the homage paid by affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders, it would be for his long-term harm & pain. At the breakup of the body, after death, he would fall into a plane of deprivation, a bad destination, a lower realm, hell.
[3] “What do you think, monks: Which would be better? For a strong man to stab you in the chest with a sharp spear smeared with oil, or for you to consent to the reverential greetings of affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders?”
“Of course this would be better, lord: to consent to the reverential greetings of affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders. It would simply be painful for a strong man to stab us in the chest with a sharp spear smeared with oil.”
“I inform you, monks. I warn you, monks: For someone who is unprincipled, of evil character—unclean and suspect in his dealings, hidden in his actions, not a contemplative though claiming to be one, not leading the holy life though claiming to do so, inwardly rotten, oozing with desire, filthy by nature—it would be better for a strong man to stab him in the chest with a sharp speared smeared with oil.
“Why is that? For that reason he would undergo death or death-like pain, but he would not on that account, at the breakup of the body, after death, fall into a plane of deprivation, a bad destination, a lower realm, hell. But if someone who is unprincipled, of evil character… filthy by nature were to consent to the reverential greetings of affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders, it would be for his long-term harm & pain. At the breakup of the body, after death, he would fall into a plane of deprivation, a bad destination, a lower realm, hell.
[4] “What do you think, monks: Which would be better? For a strong man to wrap your body in a hot iron sheet—aflame, blazing, aglow—or for you to use a robe given out of conviction by affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders?”
“Of course this would be better, lord: to use a robe given out of conviction by affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders. It would simply be painful for a strong man to wrap our body in a hot iron sheet—aflame, blazing, aglow.”
“I inform you, monks. I warn you, monks: For someone who is unprincipled, of evil character—unclean and suspect in his dealings, hidden in his actions, not a contemplative though claiming to be one, not leading the holy life though claiming to do so, inwardly rotten, oozing with desire, filthy by nature—it would be better for a strong man to wrap his body in a hot iron sheet—aflame, blazing, aglow.
“Why is that? For that reason he would undergo death or death-like pain, but he would not on that account, at the breakup of the body, after death, fall into a plane of deprivation, a bad destination, a lower realm, hell. But if someone who is unprincipled, of evil character… filthy by nature were to use a robe given out of conviction by affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders, it would be for his long-term harm & pain. At the breakup of the body, after death, he would fall into a plane of deprivation, a bad destination, a lower realm, hell.
[5] “What do you think, monks: Which would be better? For a strong man, having forced open your mouth with an iron stake—aflame, blazing, aglow—to stick in a hot copper ball—aflame, blazing, aglow—that would burn your lips, burn your tongue, burn your throat, burn your chest, and come out below, dragging along your small & large intestines—or for you to eat the alms food given out of conviction by affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders?”
“Of course this would be better, lord: to eat the alms food given out of conviction by affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders. It would simply be painful for a strong man, having forced open our mouth with an iron stake—aflame, blazing, aglow—to stick in a hot copper ball—aflame, blazing, aglow—that would burn our lips, burn our tongue, burn our throat, burn our chest, and come out below, dragging along our small & large intestines.”
“I inform you, monks. I warn you, monks: For someone who is unprincipled, of evil character—unclean and suspect in his dealings, hidden in his actions, not a contemplative though claiming to be one, not leading the holy life though claiming to do so, inwardly rotten, oozing with desire, filthy by nature—it would be better for a strong man, having forced open his mouth with an iron stake—aflame, blazing, aglow—to stick in a hot copper ball—aflame, blazing, aglow—that would burn his lips, burn his tongue, burn his throat, burn his chest, and come out below, dragging along his small & large intestines.
“Why is that? For that reason he would undergo death or death-like pain, but he would not on that account, at the breakup of the body, after death, fall into a plane of deprivation, a bad destination, a lower realm, hell. But if someone who is unprincipled, of evil character… filthy by nature were to eat the alms food given out of conviction by affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders, it would be for his long-term harm & pain. At the breakup of the body, after death, he would fall into a plane of deprivation, a bad destination, a lower realm, hell.
[6] “What do you think, monks: Which would be better? For a strong man, having seized you by the head or shoulders, to force you to sit or lie down on a hot iron chair or iron bed—aflame, blazing, aglow—or for you to use a chair or bed given out of conviction by affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders?”
“Of course this would be better, lord: to use a chair or bed given out of conviction by affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders. It would simply be painful for a strong man, having seized us by the head or shoulders, to force us to sit or lie down on a hot iron chair or iron bed—aflame, blazing, aglow.”
“I inform you, monks. I warn you, monks: For someone who is unprincipled, of evil character—unclean and suspect in his dealings, hidden in his actions, not a contemplative though claiming to be one, not leading the holy life though claiming to do so, inwardly rotten, oozing with desire, filthy by nature—it would be better for a strong man, having seized him by the head or shoulders, to force him to sit or lie down on a hot iron chair or iron bed—aflame, blazing, aglow.
“Why is that? For that reason he would undergo death or death-like pain, but he would not on that account, at the breakup of the body, after death, fall into a plane of deprivation, a bad destination, a lower realm, hell. But if someone who is unprincipled, of evil character… filthy by nature were to use a chair or bed given out of conviction by affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders, it would be for his long-term harm & pain. At the breakup of the body, after death, he would fall into a plane of deprivation, a bad destination, a lower realm, hell.
[7] “What do you think, monks: Which would be better? For a strong man, having seized you and turned you upside down, to throw you in a hot copper cauldron—aflame, blazing, aglow—where, boiling in a heap of froth, you would sometimes sink, sometimes rise, sometimes go side-to-side, or for you to use a dwelling given out of conviction by affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders?”
“Of course this would be better, lord: to use a dwelling given out of conviction by affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders. It would simply be painful for a strong man, having seized us and turned us upside down, to throw us in a hot copper cauldron—aflame, blazing, aglow—where, boiling in a heap of froth, we would sometimes sink, sometimes rise, sometimes go side-to-side.”
“I inform you, monks. I warn you, monks: For someone who is unprincipled, of evil character—unclean and suspect in his dealings, hidden in his actions, not a contemplative though claiming to be one, not leading the holy life though claiming to do so, inwardly rotten, oozing with desire, filthy by nature—it would be better for a strong man, having seized him and turned him upside down, to throw him in a hot copper cauldron—aflame, blazing, aglow—where, boiling in a heap of froth, he would sometimes sink, sometimes rise, sometimes go side-to-side.
“Why is that? For that reason he would undergo death or death-like pain, but he would not on that account, at the breakup of the body, after death, fall into a plane of deprivation, a bad destination, a lower realm, hell. But if someone who is unprincipled, of evil character—unclean and suspect in his dealings, hidden in his actions, not a contemplative though claiming to be one, not leading the holy life though claiming to do so, inwardly rotten, oozing with desire, filthy by nature—were to use a dwelling given out of conviction by affluent noble warriors, affluent brahmans, or affluent householders, it would be for his long-term harm & pain. At the breakup of the body, after death, he would fall into a plane of deprivation, a bad destination, a lower realm, hell.
“Therefore, monks, you should train yourselves: ‘The services of those whose robes, alms-food, lodging, & medicinal requisites for curing the sick that we use will bring them great fruit & great reward; and our going forth will not be barren, but fruitful & fertile.’ That’s how you should train yourselves. For one who envisions his own good, it’s enough to achieve consummation through heedfulness. For one who envisions the good of others, it’s enough to reach consummation through heedfulness. For one who envisions the good of both, it’s enough to reach consummation through heedfulness.”
That is what the Blessed One said. And while this explanation was being given, sixty-some monks vomited hot blood, sixty-some monks renounced the training and returned to the lower life [saying,] “It’s so hard to do, Blessed One, so very hard to do,” while the minds of sixty-some monks, through lack of clinging/sustenance, were released from effluents.
§ 54. I have heard that on one occasion Ven. Sāriputta was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery. Now, at that time this evil viewpoint [diṭṭhigata] had arisen to Ven. Yamaka: “As I understand the Teaching explained by the Blessed One, a monk with no more effluents, on the break-up of the body, is annihilated, perishes, & does not exist after death.” A large number of monks heard, “They say that this evil viewpoint has arisen to Ven. Yamaka: ‘As I understand the Teaching explained by the Blessed One, a monk with no more effluents, on the break-up of the body, is annihilated, perishes, & does not exist after death.’” So they went to Ven. Yamaka and, on arrival, exchanged courteous greetings with him. After an exchange of friendly greetings & courtesies, they sat to one side. As they were sitting there they said to Ven. Yamaka, “Is it true, friend Yamaka, that this evil viewpoint has arisen to you: ‘As I understand the Teaching explained by the Blessed One, a monk with no more effluents, on the break-up of the body, is annihilated, perishes, & does not exist after death.’
“Yes, friends. As I understand the Teaching explained by the Blessed One, a monk with no more effluents, on the break-up of the body, is annihilated, perishes, & does not exist after death.”
“Don’t say that, friend Yamaka. Don’t misrepresent the Blessed One. It’s not good to misrepresent the Blessed One, for the Blessed One would not say, ‘A monk with no more effluents, on the break-up of the body, is annihilated, perishes, & does not exist after death.’”
But even though Ven. Yamaka was thus rebuked by those monks, he—from stubbornness & attachment—maintained his adherence to that evil viewpoint: ‘As I understand the Teaching explained by the Blessed One, a monk with no more effluents, on the break-up of the body, is annihilated, perishes, & does not exist after death.’
When those monks could not pry Ven. Yamaka loose from his evil viewpoint, they got up from their seats and went to Ven. Sāriputta. On arrival they said to him: “Friend Sāriputta, this evil viewpoint has arisen to Ven. Yamaka: ‘As I understand the Teaching explained by the Blessed One, a monk with no more effluents, on the break-up of the body, is annihilated, perishes, & does not exist after death.’ It would be good if you would go to Ven. Yamaka out of sympathy for his sake.”
Ven. Sāriputta consented by remaining silent.
Then, having left his seclusion in the late afternoon, Ven. Sāriputta went to Ven. Yamaka and, on arrival, exchanged courteous greetings with him. After an exchange of friendly greetings & courtesies, he sat to one side. As he was sitting there he said to Ven. Yamaka, “Is it true, friend Yamaka, that this evil viewpoint has arisen to you: ‘As I understand the Teaching explained by the Blessed One, a monk with no more effluents, on the break-up of the body, is annihilated, perishes, & does not exist after death.’
“Yes, friend Sāriputta. As I understand the Teaching explained by the Blessed One, a monk with no more effluents, on the break-up of the body, is annihilated, perishes, & does not exist after death.”
“What do you think, friend Yamaka? Is form constant or inconstant?”
“Inconstant, my friend.”
“And is that which is inconstant easeful or stressful?”
“Stressful, my friend.”
“And is it proper to regard what is inconstant, stressful, subject to change as: ‘This is mine. This is my self. This is what I am’?”
“No, my friend.”
“… Is feeling constant or inconstant?”—“Inconstant, my friend.” …
“… Is perception constant or inconstant?”—“Inconstant, my friend.” …
“… Are fabrications constant or inconstant?”—“Inconstant, my friend.” …
“Is consciousness constant or inconstant?
“Inconstant, my friend.”
“And is that which is inconstant easeful or stressful?”
“Stressful, my friend.”
“And is it proper to regard what is inconstant, stressful, subject to change as: ‘This is mine. This is my self. This is what I am’?”
“No, my friend.”
“Thus, friend Yamaka, any form whatsoever that is past, future, or present; internal or external; blatant or subtle; common or sublime; far or near: Every form is to be seen as it has come to be with right discernment as: ‘This is not mine. This is not my self. This is not what I am.’
“Any feeling whatsoever.…
“Any perception whatsoever.…
“Any fabrications whatsoever.…
“Any consciousness whatsoever that is past, future, or present; internal or external; blatant or subtle; common or sublime; far or near: Every consciousness is to be seen as it has come to be with right discernment as: ‘This is not mine. This is not my self. This is not what I am.’
“Seeing thus, friend Yamaka, the instructed disciple of the noble ones grows disenchanted with form, disenchanted with feeling, disenchanted with perception, disenchanted with fabrications, disenchanted with consciousness. Disenchanted, he becomes dispassionate. Through dispassion, he is released. With release, there is the knowledge, ‘Released.’ He discerns that ‘Birth is ended, the holy life fulfilled, the task done. There is nothing further for this world.’
“What do you think, friend Yamaka? Do you regard form as the Tathāgata?”
“No, my friend.”
“Do you regard feeling as the Tathāgata?”
“No, my friend.”
“Do you regard perception as the Tathāgata?”
“No, my friend.”
“Do you regard fabrications as the Tathāgata?”
“No, my friend.”
“Do you regard consciousness as the Tathāgata?”
“No, my friend.”
“What do you think? Do you regard the Tathāgata as being in form? … Elsewhere than form? … In feeling? … Elsewhere than feeling? … In perception? … Elsewhere than perception? … In fabrications? … Elsewhere than fabrications? … In consciousness?… Elsewhere than consciousness?”
“No, my friend.”
“What do you think? Do you regard the Tathāgata as form-feeling-perception-fabrications-consciousness?”
“No, my friend.”
“Do you regard the Tathāgata as that which is without form, without feeling, without perception, without fabrications, without consciousness?”
“No, my friend.”
“And so, friend Yamaka—when you can’t pin down the Tathāgata as a truth or reality even in the present life—is it proper for you to declare, ‘As I understand the Teaching explained by the Blessed One, a monk with no more effluents, on the break-up of the body, is annihilated, perishes, & does not exist after death’?”
“Previously, friend Sāriputta, I did foolishly hold that evil viewpoint. But now, having heard your explanation of the Dhamma, I have abandoned that evil viewpoint and have broken through to the Dhamma.”
“Then, friend Yamaka, how would you answer if you are thus asked: ‘A monk, a worthy one, with no more effluents: What is he on the break-up of the body, after death?’”
“Thus asked, I would answer, ‘Form is inconstant… Feeling… Perception… Fabrications… Consciousness is inconstant. That which is inconstant is stressful. That which is stressful has ceased and gone to its end.”
“Very good, friend Yamaka. Very good. In that case I will give you an analogy for the sake of making your understanding of this point even greater. Suppose there were a householder or householder’s son—rich, wealthy, with many possessions—who was thoroughly well-guarded. Then suppose there came along a certain man, desiring what was not his benefit, desiring what was not his welfare, desiring his loss of security, desiring to kill him. The thought would occur to this man: ‘It would not be easy to kill this person by force. What if I were to sneak in and then kill him?’
“So he would go to the householder or householder’s son and say, ‘May you take me on as a servant, lord.’ With that, the householder or householder’s son would take the man on as a servant.
“Having been taken on as a servant, the man would rise in the morning before his master, go to bed in the evening only after his master, doing whatever his master ordered, always acting to please him, speaking politely to him. Then the householder or householder’s son would come to regard him as a friend & companion, and would fall into his trust. When the man realizes, ‘This householder or householder’s son trusts me,’ then encountering him in a solitary place, he would kill him with a sharp knife.
“Now what do you think, friend Yamaka? When that man went to the householder or householder’s son and said, ‘May you take me on as a servant, lord’: wasn’t he even then a murderer? And yet although he was a murderer, the householder or householder’s son didn’t know him as ‘my murderer.’ And when, taken on as a servant, he would rise in the morning before his master, go to bed in the evening only after his master, doing whatever his master ordered, always acting to please him, speaking politely to him: wasn’t he even then a murderer? And yet although he was a murderer, the householder or householder’s son didn’t know him as ‘my murderer.’ And when he encountered him in a solitary place and killed him with a sharp knife: wasn’t he even then a murderer? And yet although he was a murderer, the householder or householder’s son didn’t know him as ‘my murderer.’”
“Yes, my friend.”
“In the same way, an uninstructed, run-of-the-mill person—who has no regard for noble ones, is not well-versed or disciplined in their Dhamma; who has no regard for people of integrity, is not well-versed or disciplined in their Dhamma—assumes form to be the self, or the self as possessing form, or form as in the self, or the self as in form.
“He assumes feeling to be the self.…
“He assumes perception to be the self.…
“He assumes fabrications to be the self.…
“He assumes consciousness to be the self, or the self as possessing consciousness, or consciousness as in the self, or the self as in consciousness.
“He doesn’t discern inconstant form, as it has come to be, as ‘inconstant form.’ He doesn’t discern inconstant feeling, as it has come to be, as ‘inconstant feeling.’ He doesn’t discern inconstant perception.… He doesn’t discern inconstant fabrications.… He doesn’t discern inconstant consciousness, as it has come to be, as ‘inconstant consciousness.’
“He doesn’t discern stressful form, as it has come to be, as ‘stressful form.’ He doesn’t discern stressful feeling.… He doesn’t discern stressful perception.… He doesn’t discern stressful fabrications.… He doesn’t discern stressful consciousness, as it has come to be, as ‘stressful consciousness.’
“He doesn’t discern not-self form, as it has come to be, as ‘not-self form.’ He doesn’t discern not-self feeling.… He doesn’t discern not-self perception.… He doesn’t discern not-self fabrications.… He doesn’t discern not-self consciousness, as it has come to be, as ‘not-self consciousness.’
“He doesn’t discern fabricated form, as it has come to be, as ‘fabricated form.’ He doesn’t discern fabricated feeling.… He doesn’t discern fabricated perception.… He doesn’t discern fabricated fabrications.… He doesn’t discern fabricated consciousness, as it has come to be, as ‘fabricated consciousness.’
“He doesn’t discern murderous form, as it has come to be, as ‘murderous form.’ He doesn’t discern murderous feeling.… He doesn’t discern murderous perception.… He doesn’t discern murderous fabrications.… He doesn’t discern murderous consciousness, as it has come to be, as ‘murderous consciousness.’
“He gets attached to form, clings to form, & determines it to be ‘my self.’ He gets attached to feeling.… He gets attached to perception.… He gets attached to fabrications.… He gets attached to consciousness, clings to consciousness, & determines it to be ‘my self.’ These five clinging-aggregates—attached to, clung to—lead to his long-term loss & suffering.
“Now, the well-instructed disciple of the noble ones—who has regard for noble ones, is well-versed & disciplined in their Dhamma; who has regard for people of integrity, is well-versed & disciplined in their Dhamma—doesn’t assume form to be the self, or the self as possessing form, or form as in the self, or the self as in form.
“He doesn’t assume feeling to be the self.…
“He doesn’t assume perception to be the self.…
“He doesn’t assume fabrications to be the self.…
“He doesn’t assume consciousness to be the self, or the self as possessing consciousness, or consciousness as in the self, or the self as in consciousness.
“He discerns inconstant form, as it has come to be, as ‘inconstant form.’ He discerns inconstant feeling.… He discerns inconstant perception.… He discerns inconstant fabrications.… He discerns inconstant consciousness, as it has come to be, as ‘inconstant consciousness.’
“He discerns stressful form, as it has come to be, as ‘stressful form.’ He discerns stressful feeling.… He discerns stressful perception.… He discerns stressful fabrications.… He discerns stressful consciousness, as it has come to be, as ‘stressful consciousness.’
“He discerns not-self form, as it has come to be, as ‘not-self form.’ He discerns not-self feeling.… He discerns not-self perception.… He discerns not-self fabrications.… He discerns not-self consciousness, as it has come to be, as ‘not-self consciousness.’
“He discerns fabricated form, as it has come to be, as ‘fabricated form.’ He discerns fabricated feeling.… He discerns fabricated perception.… He discerns fabricated fabrications.… He discerns fabricated consciousness, as it has come to be, as ‘fabricated consciousness.’
“He discerns murderous form, as it has come to be, as ‘murderous form.’ He discerns murderous feeling.… He discerns murderous perception.… He discerns murderous fabrications.… He discerns murderous consciousness, as it has come to be, as ‘murderous consciousness.’
“He doesn’t get attached to form, doesn’t cling to form, doesn’t determine it to be ‘my self.’ He doesn’t get attached to feeling.… He doesn’t get attached to perception.… He doesn’t get attached to fabrications.… He doesn’t get attached to consciousness, doesn’t cling to consciousness, doesn’t determine it to be ‘my self.’ These five clinging-aggregates—not attached to, not clung to—lead to his long-term happiness & well-being.”
“Even so, friend Sāriputta, are those who have people like you as their companions in the holy life, teaching them, admonishing them out of sympathy, desiring their welfare. For now that I have heard this explanation of the Dhamma from you, my mind—through lack of clinging/sustenance—has been released from effluents.”
§ 55. I have heard that on one occasion the Blessed One was staying near Sāvatthī in the Eastern Monastery, the palace of Migāra’s mother. And on that occasion—the uposatha of the fifteenth, the night of a very full moon—he was sitting out in the open with the Saṅgha of monks.
Then a certain monk, rising from his seat, arranging his robe over one shoulder, and placing his hands palm-to-palm over the heart, said to the Blessed One: “Venerable sir, there is an area where, if the Blessed One would give me leave, I would like the answer to a question.”
“Very well, then, monk. Sit back down in your seat and ask whatever you want.”
Responding to the Blessed One, “Yes, lord,” the monk sat back down in his seat and said to the Blessed One, “Aren’t these the five clinging-aggregates, i.e., the form clinging-aggregate, the feeling clinging-aggregate, the perception clinging-aggregate, the fabrications clinging-aggregate, the consciousness clinging-aggregate.”
“Monk, these are the five clinging-aggregates, i.e., the form clinging-aggregate, the feeling clinging-aggregate, the perception clinging-aggregate, the fabrications clinging-aggregate, the consciousness clinging-aggregate.”
Saying, “Very good, lord,” the monk delighted & approved of the Blessed One’s words and then asked him a further question: “But in what, lord, are these five clinging-aggregates rooted?”
“Monk, these five clinging-aggregates are rooted in desire.”1
Saying, “Very good, lord,” the monk… asked him a further question: “Is clinging the same thing as the five clinging-aggregates, or is clinging separate from the five clinging-aggregates?”
“Monk, clinging is neither the same thing as the five clinging-aggregates, nor is it separate from the five clinging-aggregates. Just that whatever passion & delight is there, that’s the clinging there.”
Saying, “Very good, lord,” the monk… asked him a further question: “Might there be diversity in the desire & passion for the five clinging-aggregates?”
“There might, monk. There is the case where the thought occurs to someone, ‘May I be one with such a form in the future. May I be one with such a feeling… perception… fabrications… such a consciousness in the future. This is how there would be diversity in the desire & passion for the five clinging-aggregates.”
Saying, “Very good, lord,” the monk… asked him a further question: “To what extent does the designation ‘aggregate’ apply to the aggregates?”
“Monk, whatever form is past, future, or present; internal or external; blatant or subtle; common or sublime; far or near: That is called the form aggregate. Whatever feeling is past, future, or present; internal or external; blatant or subtle; common or sublime; far or near: That is called the feeling aggregate. Whatever perception is past, future, or present; internal or external; blatant or subtle; common or sublime; far or near: That is called the perception aggregate. Whatever fabrications are past, future, or present; internal or external; blatant or subtle; common or sublime; far or near: Those are called the fabrications aggregate. Whatever consciousness is past, future, or present; internal or external; blatant or subtle; common or sublime; far or near: That is called the consciousness aggregate. This is the extent to which the term ‘aggregate’ applies to the aggregates.”
Saying, “Very good, lord,” the monk… asked him a further question: “Lord, what is the cause, what the condition, for the delineation2 of the form aggregate? What is the cause, what the condition, for the delineation of the feeling aggregate… the perception aggregate… the fabrications aggregate… the consciousness aggregate?”
“Monk, the four great existents [earth, water, fire, & wind] are the cause, the four great existents the condition, for the delineation of the form aggregate. Contact is the cause, contact the condition, for the delineation of the feeling aggregate. Contact is the cause, contact the condition, for the delineation of the perception aggregate. Contact is the cause, contact the condition, for the delineation of the fabrications aggregate. Name-&-form is the cause, name-&-form the condition, for the delineation of the consciousness aggregate.”
Saying, “Very good, lord,” the monk… asked him a further question: “Lord, how does self-identity view come about?”
“There is the case, monk, where an uninstructed run-of-the-mill person—who has no regard for noble ones, is not well-versed or disciplined in their Dhamma; who has no regard for people of integrity, is not well-versed or disciplined in their Dhamma—assumes form to be the self, or the self as possessing form, or form as in the self, or the self as in form.
“He assumes feeling to be the self, or the self as possessing feeling, or feeling as in the self, or the self as in feeling. He assumes perception to be the self, or the self as possessing perception, or perception as in the self, or the self as in perception. He assumes fabrications to be the self, or the self as possessing fabrications, or fabrications as in the self, or the self as in fabrications. He assumes consciousness to be the self, or the self as possessing consciousness, or consciousness as in the self, or the self as in consciousness.
“This, monk, is how self-identity view comes about.”
Saying, “Very good, lord,” the monk… asked him a further question: “Lord, how does self-identity view no longer come about?”
“There is the case, monk, where a well-instructed disciple of the noble ones—who has regard for noble ones, is well-versed & disciplined in their Dhamma; who has regard for people of integrity, is well-versed & disciplined in their Dhamma—doesn’t assume form to be the self, or the self as possessing form, or form as in the self, or the self as in form. He doesn’t assume feeling to be the self.… doesn’t assume perception to be the self.… doesn’t assume fabrications to be the self.… He doesn’t assume consciousness to be the self, or the self as possessing consciousness, or consciousness as in the self, or the self as in consciousness.
“This, monk, is how self-identity view no longer comes about.”
Saying, “Very good, lord,” the monk… asked him a further question: “What, lord, is the allure of form? What is its drawback? What is the escape from it? What is the allure of feeling… perception… fabrications… consciousness? What is its drawback? What is the escape from it?”
“Monk, whatever pleasure & joy arises dependent on form: That is the allure of form. The fact that form is inconstant, stressful, subject to change: That is the drawback of form. The subduing of desire & passion, the abandoning of desire & passion for form: That is the escape from form.
“Whatever pleasure & joy arises dependent on feeling: That is the allure of feeling.…
“Whatever pleasure & joy arises dependent on perception: That is the allure of perception.…
“Whatever pleasure & joy arises dependent on fabrications: That is the allure of fabrications.…
“Whatever pleasure & joy arises dependent on consciousness: That is the allure of consciousness. The fact that consciousness is inconstant, stressful, subject to change: That is the drawback of consciousness. The subduing of desire & passion, the abandoning of desire & passion for consciousness: That is the escape from consciousness.”
Saying, “Very good, lord,” the monk… asked him a further question: “Knowing in what way, seeing in what way, is there—with regard to this body endowed with consciousness, and with regard to all external signs—no longer any I-making, or my-making, or obsession with conceit?”
“Monk, one sees any form whatsoever—past, future, or present; internal or external; blatant or subtle; common or sublime; far or near—every form, as it has come to be with right discernment: ‘This is not mine. This is not my self. This is not what I am.’
“One sees any feeling whatsoever… any perception whatsoever… any fabrications whatsoever…
“One sees any consciousness whatsoever—past, future, or present; internal or external; blatant or subtle; common or sublime; far or near—every consciousness—as it has come to be with right discernment: ‘This is not mine. This is not my self. This is not what I am.’”
“Monk, knowing in this way, seeing in this way is there—with regard to this body endowed with consciousness, and with regard to all external signs—no longer any I-making, or my-making, or obsession with conceit.”
Now at that moment this line of thinking appeared in the awareness of a certain monk: “So—form is not-self, feeling is not-self, perception is not-self, fabrications are not-self, consciousness is not-self. Then what self will be touched by the actions done by what is not-self?”
Then the Blessed One, realizing with his awareness the line of thinking in that monk’s awareness, addressed the monks: “It’s possible that a senseless person—immersed in ignorance, overcome with craving—might think that he could outsmart the Teacher’s message in this way: ‘So—form is not-self, feeling is not-self, perception is not-self, fabrications are not-self, consciousness is not-self. Then what self will be touched by the actions done by what is not-self?’ Now, monks, haven’t I trained you in counter-questioning with regard to this & that topic here & there? What do you think? Is form constant or inconstant?”—“Inconstant, lord.”—“And is that which is inconstant easeful or stressful?”—“Stressful, lord.”—“And is it fitting to regard what is inconstant, stressful, subject to change as: ‘This is mine. This is my self. This is what I am’?”
“No, lord.”
“… Is feeling constant or inconstant?”—“Inconstant, lord.” …
“… Is perception constant or inconstant?”—“Inconstant, lord.” …
“… Are fabrications constant or inconstant?”—“Inconstant, lord.” …
“What do you think, monks? Is consciousness constant or inconstant?”—“Inconstant, lord.”—“And is that which is inconstant easeful or stressful?”—“Stressful, lord.”—“And is it fitting to regard what is inconstant, stressful, subject to change as: ‘This is mine. This is my self. This is what I am’?”
“No, lord.”
“Thus, monks, any form whatsoever that is past, future, or present; internal or external; blatant or subtle; common or sublime; far or near: Every form is to be seen as it has come to be with right discernment as: ‘This is not mine. This is not my self. This is not what I am.’
“Any feeling whatsoever…
“Any perception whatsoever…
“Any fabrications whatsoever…
“Any consciousness whatsoever that is past, future, or present; internal or external; blatant or subtle; common or sublime; far or near: Every consciousness is to be seen as it has come to be with right discernment as: ‘This is not mine. This is not my self. This is not what I am.’
“Seeing thus, the instructed disciple of the noble ones grows disenchanted with form, disenchanted with feeling, disenchanted with perception, disenchanted with fabrications, disenchanted with consciousness. Disenchanted, he becomes dispassionate. Through dispassion, he is released. With release, there is the knowledge, ‘Released.’ He discerns that ‘Birth is ended, the holy life fulfilled, the task done. There is nothing further for this world.’”
That is what the Blessed One said. Gratified, the monks delighted in the Blessed One’s words. And while this explanation was being given, the minds of sixty-some monks, through lack of clinging/sustenance, were released from effluents.
Notes
2. Delineation (paññāpana) literally means, “making discernible.” This apparently refers to the intentional aspect of perception, which takes the objective side of experience and fabricates it into discernible objects. In the case of the aggregates, the four great existents, contact, and name-&-form provide the objective basis for discerning them, while the process of fabrication takes the raw material provided by the objective basis and turns it into discernible instances of the aggregates. This process is described in slightly different terms in SN 22:79. ↩
§ 56. On one occasion, many elder monks were staying near Kosambī at Ghosita’s monastery. And at that time Ven. Khemaka was staying at the Jujube Tree Park, diseased, in pain, severely ill. Then in the late afternoon the elder monks left their seclusion and addressed Ven. Dāsaka, (saying,) “Come, friend Dāsaka. Go to the monk Khemaka and on arrival say to him, ‘The elders, friend Khemaka, say to you, “We hope you are getting better, friend. We hope you are comfortable. We hope that your pains are lessening and not increasing. We hope that there are signs of their lessening, and not of their increasing.”’”
Replying, “As you say, friends,” to the elder monks, Ven. Dāsaka went to Ven. Khemaka and on arrival said to him: “The elders, friend Khemaka, say to you, ‘We hope you are getting better, friend. We hope you are comfortable. We hope that your pains are lessening and not increasing. We hope that there are signs of their lessening, and not of their increasing.’”
“I am not getting better, my friend. I am not comfortable. My extreme pains are increasing, not lessening. There are signs of their increasing, and not of their lessening.”
Then Ven. Dāsaka went to the elder monks and, on arrival, said to them, “The monk Khemaka has said to me, ‘I am not getting better, my friend. I am not comfortable. My extreme pains are increasing, not lessening. There are signs of their increasing, and not of their lessening.’”
“Come, friend Dāsaka. Go to the monk Khemaka and on arrival say to him, ‘The elders, friend Khemaka, say to you, “Concerning these five clinging-aggregates described by the Blessed One—i.e., the form clinging-aggregate, the feeling clinging-aggregate, the perception clinging-aggregate, the fabrications clinging-aggregate, the consciousness clinging-aggregate: Do you assume anything with regard to these five clinging-aggregates to be self or belonging to self?”’”
Replying, “As you say, friends,” to the elder monks, Ven. Dāsaka went to Ven. Khemaka and on arrival said to him, “The elders, friend Khemaka, say to you, ‘Concerning these five clinging-aggregates described by the Blessed One—i.e., the form clinging-aggregate, the feeling clinging-aggregate, the perception clinging-aggregate, the fabrications clinging-aggregate, the consciousness clinging-aggregate: Do you assume anything with regard to these five clinging-aggregates to be self or belonging to self?’”
“Friend, concerning these five clinging-aggregates described by the Blessed One—i.e., the form clinging-aggregate, the feeling clinging-aggregate, the perception clinging-aggregate, the fabrications clinging-aggregate, the consciousness clinging-aggregate: With regard to these five clinging-aggregates, there is nothing I assume to be self or belonging to self.”
Then Ven. Dāsaka went to the elder monks and, on arrival, said to them, “The monk Khemaka has said to me, ‘Friend, concerning these five clinging-aggregates described by the Blessed One—i.e., the form clinging-aggregate, the feeling clinging-aggregate, the perception clinging-aggregate, the fabrications clinging-aggregate, the consciousness clinging-aggregate: With regard to these five clinging-aggregates, there is nothing I assume to be self or belonging to self.’”
“Come, friend Dāsaka. Go to the monk Khemaka and on arrival say to him, ‘The elders, friend Khemaka, say to you, “Concerning these five clinging-aggregates described by the Blessed One—i.e., the form clinging-aggregate, the feeling clinging-aggregate, the perception clinging-aggregate, the fabrications clinging-aggregate, the consciousness clinging-aggregate: If, with regard to these five clinging-aggregates, Ven. Khemaka assumes nothing to be self or belonging to self, then Ven. Khemaka is an arahant, devoid of effluents.”’”
Replying, “As you say, friends,” to the elder monks, Ven. Dāsaka went to Ven. Khemaka and on arrival said to him, “The elders, friend Khemaka, say to you, ‘Concerning these five clinging-aggregates described by the Blessed One—i.e., the form clinging-aggregate, the feeling clinging-aggregate, the perception clinging-aggregate, the fabrications clinging-aggregate, the consciousness clinging-aggregate: If, with regard to these five clinging-aggregates, Ven. Khemaka assumes nothing to be self or belonging to self, then Ven. Khemaka is an arahant, devoid of effluents.’”
“Friend, concerning these five clinging-aggregates described by the Blessed One—i.e., the form clinging-aggregate, the feeling clinging-aggregate, the perception clinging-aggregate, the fabrications clinging-aggregate, the consciousness clinging-aggregate: With regard to these five clinging-aggregates, there is nothing I assume to be self or belonging to self, and yet I am not an arahant. With regard to these five clinging-aggregates, ‘I am’ is found, although I don’t assume that ‘I am this.’”
Then Ven. Dāsaka went to the elder monks and, on arrival, said to them, “The monk Khemaka has said to me, ‘Friend, concerning these five clinging-aggregates described by the Blessed One—i.e., the form clinging-aggregate, the feeling clinging-aggregate, the perception clinging-aggregate, the fabrications clinging-aggregate, the consciousness clinging-aggregate: With regard to these five clinging-aggregates, there is nothing I assume to be self or belonging to self, and yet I am not an arahant. With regard to these five clinging-aggregates, “I am” is found, although I don’t assume that “I am this.”’”
“Come, friend Dāsaka. Go to the monk Khemaka and on arrival say to him, ‘The elders, friend Khemaka, say to you, “Friend Khemaka, this ‘I am’ of which you speak: What do you say ‘I am’? Do you say, ‘I am form,’ or do you say, ‘I am something other than form’? Do you say, ‘I am feeling… perception… fabrications… consciousness,’ or do you say, ‘I am something other than consciousness’? This ‘I am’ of which you speak: What do you say ‘I am’?”’”
Replying, “As you say, friends,” to the elder monks, Ven. Dāsaka went to Ven. Khemaka and on arrival said to him, “The elders, friend Khemaka, say to you, ‘Friend Khemaka, this “I am” of which you speak: What do you say “I am”? Do you say, “I am form,” or do you say, “I am something other than form”? Do you say, “I am feeling… perception… fabrications… consciousness,” or do you say, “I am something other than consciousness” ‘? This “I am” of which you speak: What do you say “I am”?’”
“Enough, friend Dāsaka. What is accomplished by this running back & forth? Fetch me my staff. I will go to the elder monks myself.”
Then Ven. Khemaka, leaning on his staff, went to the elder monks and, on arrival, exchanged courteous greetings with them. After an exchange of friendly greetings & courtesies, he sat to one side. As he was sitting there, the elder monks said to him, “Friend Khemaka, this ‘I am’ of which you speak: What do you say ‘I am’? Do you say, ‘I am form,’ or do you say, ‘I am something other than form’? Do you say, ‘I am feeling… perception… fabrications… consciousness,’ or do you say, ‘I am something other than consciousness’’? This ‘I am’ of which you speak: What do you say ‘I am’?”
“Friends, it’s not that I say ‘I am form,’ nor do I say ‘I am something other than form.’ It’s not that I say, ‘I am feeling… perception… fabrications… consciousness,’ nor do I say, ‘I am something other than consciousness.’ With regard to these five clinging-aggregates, ‘I am’ is found, although I don’t assume that ‘I am this.’
“It’s just like the scent of a blue, red, or white lotus: If someone were to call it the scent of a petal or the scent of the color or the scent of a filament, would he be speaking correctly?”
“No, friend.”
“Then how would he describe it if he were describing it correctly?”
“As the scent of the flower: That’s how he would describe it if he were describing it correctly.”
“In the same way, friends, it’s not that I say ‘I am form,’ nor do I say ‘I am other than form.’ It’s not that I say, ‘I am feeling… perception… fabrications… consciousness,’ nor do I say, ‘I am something other than consciousness.’ With regard to these five clinging-aggregates, ‘I am’ is found, although I don’t assume that ‘I am this.’
“Friends, even though a noble disciple has abandoned the five lower fetters, he still has with regard to the five clinging-aggregates a lingering residual ‘I am’ conceit, an ‘I am’ desire, an ‘I am’ obsession. But at a later time he keeps focusing on the phenomena of arising & passing away with regard to the five clinging-aggregates: ‘Such is form, such its origination, such its disappearance. Such is feeling.… Such is perception.… Such are fabrications.… Such is consciousness, such its origination, such its disappearance.’ As he keeps focusing on the arising & passing away of these five clinging-aggregates, the lingering residual ‘I am’ conceit, ‘I am’ desire, ‘I am’ obsession is fully obliterated.
“Just like a cloth, dirty & stained: Its owners give it over to a washerman, who scrubs it with salt earth or lye or cow-dung and then rinses it in clear water. Now, even though the cloth is clean & spotless, it still has a lingering residual scent of salt earth or lye or cow-dung. The washerman gives it to the owners, the owners put it away in a scent-infused wicker hamper, and its lingering residual scent of salt earth, lye, or cow-dung is fully obliterated.
“In the same way, friends, even though a noble disciple has abandoned the five lower fetters, he still has with regard to the five clinging-aggregates a lingering residual ‘I am’ conceit, an ‘I am’ desire, an ‘I am’ obsession. But at a later time he keeps focusing on arising & passing away with regard to the five clinging-aggregates: ‘Such is form, such its origination, such its disappearance. Such is feeling.… Such is perception.… Such are fabrications.… Such is consciousness, such its origination, such its disappearance.’ As he keeps focusing on the arising & passing away of these five clinging-aggregates, the lingering residual ‘I am’ conceit, ‘I am’ desire, ‘I am’ obsession is fully obliterated.”
When this was said, the elder monks said to Ven. Khemaka, “We didn’t cross-examine Ven. Khemaka with the purpose of troubling him, just that (we thought) Ven. Khemaka is capable of declaring the Blessed One’s message, teaching it, describing it, setting it forth, revealing it, explaining it, making it plain—just as he has in fact declared it, taught it, described it, set it forth, revealed it, explained it, made it plain.”
That is what Ven. Khemaka said. Gratified, the elder monks delighted in his words. And while this explanation was being given, the minds of sixty-some monks, through lack of clinging/sustenance, were released from effluents—as was Ven. Khemaka’s.
§ 57. I have heard that on one occasion the Blessed One was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s Monastery. There he addressed the monks: “Monks!”
“Yes, lord,” the monks responded to him.
“Monks, I will teach you the Dhamma admirable in the beginning, admirable in the middle, admirable in the end; I will expound the holy life both in its particulars & in its essence, entirely complete, surpassingly pure—in other words, the six sextets. Listen & pay close attention. I will speak.”
“As you say, lord,” the monks responded to him.
The Blessed One said: “The six internal media should be known. The six external media should be known. The six classes of consciousness should be known. The six classes of contact should be known. The six classes of feeling should be known. The six classes of craving should be known.
“‘The six internal media should be known.’ Thus it was said. In reference to what was it said? The eye-medium, the ear-medium, the nose-medium, the tongue-medium, the body-medium, the intellect-medium. ‘The six internal media should be known.’ Thus it was said. And in reference to this was it said. This is the first sextet.
“‘The six external media should be known.’ Thus it was said. In reference to what was it said? The form-medium, the sound-medium, the aroma-medium, the flavor-medium, the tactile sensation-medium, the idea-medium. ‘The six external media should be known.’ Thus it was said. And in reference to this was it said. This is the second sextet.
“‘The six classes of consciousness should be known.’ Thus it was said. In reference to what was it said? Dependent on the eye & forms there arises consciousness at the eye. Dependent on the ear & sounds there arises consciousness at the ear. Dependent on the nose & aromas there arises consciousness at the nose. Dependent on the tongue & flavors there arises consciousness at the tongue. Dependent on the body & tactile sensations there arises consciousness at the body. Dependent on the intellect & ideas there arises consciousness at the intellect. ‘The six classes of consciousness should be known.’ Thus it was said. And in reference to this was it said. This is the third sextet.
“‘The six classes of contact should be known.’ Thus it was said. In reference to what was it said? Dependent on the eye & forms there arises consciousness at the eye. The meeting of the three is contact. Dependent on the ear & sounds there arises consciousness at the ear. The meeting of the three is contact. Dependent on the nose & aromas there arises consciousness at the nose. The meeting of the three is contact. Dependent on the tongue & flavors there arises consciousness at the tongue. The meeting of the three is contact. Dependent on the body & tactile sensations there arises consciousness at the body. The meeting of the three is contact. Dependent on the intellect & ideas there arises consciousness at the intellect. The meeting of the three is contact. ‘The six classes of contact should be known.’ Thus it was said. And in reference to this was it said. This is the fourth sextet.
“‘The six classes of feeling should be known.’ Thus it was said. In reference to what was it said? Dependent on the eye & forms there arises consciousness at the eye. The meeting of the three is contact. With contact as a requisite condition there is feeling. Dependent on the ear & sounds there arises consciousness at the ear. The meeting of the three is contact. With contact as a requisite condition there is feeling. Dependent on the nose & aromas there arises consciousness at the nose. The meeting of the three is contact. With contact as a requisite condition there is feeling. Dependent on the tongue & flavors there arises consciousness at the tongue. The meeting of the three is contact. With contact as a requisite condition there is feeling. Dependent on the body & tactile sensations there arises consciousness at the body. The meeting of the three is contact. With contact as a requisite condition there is feeling. Dependent on the intellect & ideas there arises consciousness at the intellect. The meeting of the three is contact. With contact as a requisite condition there is feeling. ‘The six classes of feeling should be known.’ Thus it was said. And in reference to this was it said. This is the fifth sextet.
“‘The six classes of craving should be known.’ Thus it was said. In reference to what was it said? Dependent on the eye & forms there arises consciousness at the eye. The meeting of the three is contact. With contact as a requisite condition there is feeling. With feeling as a requisite condition there is craving. Dependent on the ear & sounds there arises consciousness at the ear. The meeting of the three is contact. With contact as a requisite condition there is feeling. With feeling as a requisite condition there is craving. Dependent on the nose & aromas there arises consciousness at the nose. The meeting of the three is contact. With contact as a requisite condition there is feeling. With feeling as a requisite condition there is craving. Dependent on the tongue & flavors there arises consciousness at the tongue. The meeting of the three is contact. With contact as a requisite condition there is feeling. With feeling as a requisite condition there is craving. Dependent on the body & tactile sensations there arises consciousness at the body. The meeting of the three is contact. With contact as a requisite condition there is feeling. With feeling as a requisite condition there is craving. Dependent on the intellect & ideas there arises consciousness at the intellect. The meeting of the three is contact. With contact as a requisite condition there is feeling. With feeling as a requisite condition there is craving. ‘The six classes of craving should be known.’ Thus it was said. And in reference to this was it said. This is the sixth sextet.
“If anyone were to say, ‘The eye is the self,’ that wouldn’t be tenable. The arising & falling away of the eye are discerned. And when its arising & falling away are discerned, it would follow that ‘My self arises & falls away.’ That’s why it wouldn’t be tenable if anyone were to say, ‘The eye is the self.’ So the eye is not-self. If anyone were to say, ‘Forms are the self,’ that wouldn’t be tenable.… Thus the eye is not-self and forms are not-self. If anyone were to say, ‘Consciousness at the eye is the self,’ that wouldn’t be tenable.… Thus the eye is not-self, forms are not-self, consciousness at the eye is not-self. If anyone were to say, ‘Contact at the eye is the self,’ that wouldn’t be tenable.… Thus the eye is not-self, forms are not-self, consciousness at the eye is not-self, contact at the eye is not-self. If anyone were to say, ‘Feeling is the self,’ that wouldn’t be tenable.… Thus the eye is not-self, forms are not-self, consciousness at the eye is not-self, contact at the eye is not-self, feeling is not self. If anyone were to say, ‘Craving is the self,’ that wouldn’t be tenable. The arising & falling away of craving are discerned. And when its arising & falling away are discerned, it would follow that ‘My self arises & falls away.’ That’s why it wouldn’t be tenable if anyone were to say, ‘Craving is the self.’ Thus the eye is not-self, forms are not-self, consciousness at the eye is not-self, contact at the eye is not-self, feeling is not self, craving is not-self.
“If anyone were to say, ‘The ear is the self,’ that wouldn’t be tenable.…
“If anyone were to say, ‘The nose is the self,’ that wouldn’t be tenable.…
“If anyone were to say, ‘The tongue is the self,’ that wouldn’t be tenable.…
“If anyone were to say, ‘The body is the self,’ that wouldn’t be tenable.…
“If anyone were to say, ‘The intellect is the self,’ that wouldn’t be tenable. The arising & falling away of the intellect are discerned. And when its arising & falling away are discerned, it would follow that ‘My self arises & falls away.’ That’s why it wouldn’t be tenable if anyone were to say, ‘The intellect is the self.’ So the intellect is not-self. If anyone were to say, ‘Ideas are the self,’ that wouldn’t be tenable.… Thus the intellect is not-self and ideas are not-self. If anyone were to say, ‘Consciousness at the intellect is the self,’ that wouldn’t be tenable.… Thus the intellect is not-self, ideas are not-self, consciousness at the intellect is not-self. If anyone were to say, ‘Contact at the intellect is the self,’ that wouldn’t be tenable.… Thus the intellect is not-self, ideas are not-self, consciousness at the intellect is not-self, contact at the intellect is not-self. If anyone were to say, ‘Feeling is the self,’ that wouldn’t be tenable.… Thus the intellect is not-self, ideas are not-self, consciousness at the intellect is not-self, contact at the intellect is not-self, feeling is not self. If anyone were to say, ‘Craving is the self,’ that wouldn’t be tenable. The arising & falling away of craving are discerned. And when its arising & falling away are discerned, it would follow that ‘My self arises & falls away.’ That’s why it wouldn’t be tenable if anyone were to say, ‘Craving is the self.’ Thus the intellect is not-self, ideas are not-self, consciousness at the intellect is not-self, contact at the intellect is not-self, feeling is not self, craving is not-self.
“This, monks, is the path of practice leading to self-identity. One assumes about the eye that ‘This is me, this is my self, this is what I am.’ One assumes about forms.… One assumes about consciousness at the eye.… One assumes about contact at the eye.… One assumes about feeling.… One assumes about craving that ‘This is me, this is my self, this is what I am.’
“One assumes about the ear.…
“One assumes about the nose.…
“One assumes about the tongue.…
“One assumes about the body.…
“One assumes about the intellect that ‘This is me, this is my self, this is what I am.’ One assumes about ideas.… One assumes about consciousness at the intellect.… One assumes about contact at the intellect.… One assumes about feeling.… One assumes about craving that ‘This is me, this is my self, this is what I am.’
“Now, this is the path of practice leading to the cessation of self-identity. One assumes about the eye that ‘This is not me, this is not my self, this is not what I am.’ One assumes about forms.… One assumes about consciousness at the eye.… One assumes about contact at the eye.… One assumes about feeling.… One assumes about craving that ‘This is not me, this is not my self, this is not what I am.’
“One assumes about the ear.…
“One assumes about the nose.…
“One assumes about the tongue.…
“One assumes about the body.…
“One assumes about the intellect that ‘This is not me, this is not my self, this is not what I am.’ One assumes about ideas.… One assumes about consciousness at the intellect.… One assumes about contact at the intellect.… One assumes about feeling.… One assumes about craving that ‘This is not me, this is not my self, this is not what I am.’
“Dependent on the eye & forms there arises consciousness at the eye. The meeting of the three is contact. With contact as a requisite condition, there arises what is felt either as pleasure, pain, or neither pleasure nor pain. If, when touched by a feeling of pleasure, one relishes it, welcomes it, or remains fastened to it, then one’s passion-obsession gets obsessed. If, when touched by a feeling of pain, one sorrows, grieves, & laments, beats one’s breast, becomes distraught, then one’s resistance-obsession gets obsessed. If, when touched by a feeling of neither pleasure nor pain, one doesn’t discern, as it has come to be, the origination, passing away, allure, drawback, or escape from that feeling, then one’s ignorance-obsession gets obsessed.
“That a person—without abandoning passion-obsession with regard to a feeling of pleasure, without abolishing resistance-obsession with regard to a feeling of pain, without uprooting ignorance-obsession with regard to a feeling of neither pleasure nor pain, without abandoning ignorance and giving rise to clear knowing—would put an end to suffering & stress in the here & now: Such a thing isn’t possible.
“Dependent on the ear & sounds.…
“Dependent on the nose & aromas.…
“Dependent on the tongue & flavors.…
“Dependent on the body & tactile sensations.…
“Dependent on the intellect & ideas there arises consciousness at the intellect. The meeting of the three is contact. With contact as a requisite condition, there arises what is felt either as pleasure, pain, or neither pleasure nor pain. If, when touched by a feeling of pleasure, one relishes it, welcomes it, or remains fastened to it, then one’s passion-obsession gets obsessed. If, when touched by a feeling of pain, one sorrows, grieves, & laments, beats one’s breast, becomes distraught, then one’s resistance-obsession gets obsessed. If, when touched by a feeling of neither pleasure nor pain, one doesn’t discern, as it has come to be, the origination, passing away, allure, drawback, or escape from that feeling, then one’s ignorance-obsession gets obsessed.
“That a person—without abandoning passion-obsession with regard to a feeling of pleasure, without abolishing resistance-obsession with regard to a feeling of pain, without uprooting ignorance-obsession with regard to a feeling of neither pleasure nor pain, without abandoning ignorance and giving rise to clear knowing—would put an end to suffering & stress in the here & now: Such a thing isn’t possible.
“Dependent on the eye & forms there arises consciousness at the eye. The meeting of the three is contact. With contact as a requisite condition, there arises what is felt either as pleasure, pain, or neither pleasure nor pain. If, when touched by a feeling of pleasure, one doesn’t relish it, welcome it, or remain fastened to it, then one’s passion-obsession doesn’t get obsessed. If, when touched by a feeling of pain, one doesn’t sorrow, grieve, or lament, beat one’s breast or become distraught, then one’s resistance-obsession doesn’t get obsessed. If, when touched by a feeling of neither pleasure nor pain, one discerns, as it has come to be, the origination, passing away, allure, drawback, & escape from that feeling, then one’s ignorance-obsession doesn’t get obsessed.
“That a person—through abandoning passion-obsession with regard to a feeling of pleasure, through abolishing resistance-obsession with regard to a feeling of pain, through uprooting ignorance-obsession with regard to a feeling of neither pleasure nor pain, through abandoning ignorance and giving rise to clear knowing—would put an end to suffering & stress in the here & now: Such a thing is possible.
“Dependent on the ear & sounds.…
“Dependent on the nose & aromas.…
“Dependent on the tongue & flavors.…
“Dependent on the body & tactile sensations.…
“Dependent on the intellect & ideas there arises consciousness at the intellect. The meeting of the three is contact. With contact as a requisite condition, there arises what is felt either as pleasure, pain, or neither pleasure nor pain. If, when touched by a feeling of pleasure, one doesn’t relish it, welcome it, or remain fastened to it, then one’s passion-obsession doesn’t get obsessed. If, when touched by a feeling of pain, one doesn’t sorrow, grieve, or lament, beat one’s breast or become distraught, then one’s resistance-obsession doesn’t get obsessed. If, when touched by a feeling of neither pleasure nor pain, one discerns, as it has come to be, the origination, passing away, allure, drawback, & escape from that feeling, then one’s ignorance-obsession doesn’t get obsessed.
“That a person—through abandoning passion-obsession with regard to a feeling of pleasure, through abolishing resistance-obsession with regard to a feeling of pain, through uprooting ignorance-obsession with regard to a feeling of neither pleasure nor pain, through abandoning ignorance and giving rise to clear knowing—would put an end to suffering & stress in the here & now: Such a thing is possible.
“Seeing thus, the instructed disciple of the noble ones grows disenchanted with the eye, disenchanted with forms, disenchanted with consciousness at the eye, disenchanted with contact at the eye, disenchanted with feeling, disenchanted with craving.
“He grows disenchanted with the ear…
“He grows disenchanted with the nose…
“He grows disenchanted with the tongue…
“He grows disenchanted with the body…
“He grows disenchanted with the intellect, disenchanted with ideas, disenchanted with consciousness at the intellect, disenchanted with contact at the intellect, disenchanted with feeling, disenchanted with craving. Disenchanted, he becomes dispassionate. Through dispassion, he is released. With release, there is the knowledge, ‘Released.’ He discerns that ‘Birth is ended, the holy life fulfilled, the task done. There is nothing further for this world.’”
That is what the Blessed One said. Gratified, the monks delighted at his words. And while this explanation was being given, the minds of sixty-some monks, through lack of clinging/sustenance, were released from effluents.
§ 58. I have heard that on one occasion the Blessed One was staying near Sāvatthī in the Eastern Monastery, the palace of Migāra’s mother. Now on that occasion—the uposatha day of the fifteenth, a perfect full-moon night—the Blessed One was sitting in the open air surrounded by the Saṅgha of monks. Surveying the silent Saṅgha of monks, he addressed them: “Monks, if there are any who ask, ‘Your listening to teachings that are skillful, noble, leading onward, going to self-awakening is a prerequisite for what?’ they should be told, ‘For the sake of knowing qualities of dualities as they have come to be.’ Which duality are you speaking about? ‘This is stress. This is the origination of stress’: This is one contemplation. ‘This is the cessation of stress. This is the path of practice leading to the cessation of stress’: This is a second contemplation. For a monk rightly contemplating this duality in this way—heedful, ardent, & resolute—one of two fruits can be expected: either gnosis right here & now, or—if there be any remnant of clinging-sustenance—non-return.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Having said that, the One Well-Gone, the Teacher, said further:
“Those who don’t discern stress, what brings stress into play, & where it totally stops, without trace; who don’t know the path, the way to the stilling of stress: lowly in their awareness-release & discernment-release, incapable of making an end, they’re headed to birth & aging.But those who discern stress, what brings stress into play, & where it totally stops, without trace; who discern the path, the way to the stilling of stress: consummate in their awareness-release & discernment-release, capable of making an end, they aren’t headed to birth & aging.1“Now, if there are any who ask, ‘Would there be the right contemplation of dualities in yet another way?’ they should be told, ‘There would.’ How would that be? ‘Whatever stress comes into play is all from acquisition2 as a requisite condition’: This is one contemplation. ‘From the remainderless fading & cessation of that very acquisition, there is no coming into play of stress’: This is a second contemplation. For a monk rightly contemplating this duality in this way—heedful, ardent, & resolute—one of two fruits can be expected: either gnosis right here & now, or—if there be any remnant of clinging-sustenance—non-return.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Having said that, the One Well-Gone, the Teacher, said further:
“From acquisition as cause the many forms of stress come into being in the world. Whoever, unknowing, makes acquisitions —the dullard— comes to stress again & again. Therefore, discerning, you shouldn’t create acquisitions as you stay focused on the birth & origin of stress.”“Now, if there are any who ask, ‘Would there be the right contemplation of dualities in yet another way?’ they should be told, ‘There would.’ How would that be? ‘Whatever stress comes into play is all from ignorance as a requisite condition’: This is one contemplation. ‘From the remainderless fading & cessation of that very ignorance, there is no coming into play of stress’: This is a second contemplation. For a monk rightly contemplating this duality in this way—heedful, ardent, & resolute—one of two fruits can be expected: either gnosis right here & now, or—if there be any remnant of clinging-sustenance—non-return.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Having said that, the One Well-Gone, the Teacher, said further:
“Those who journey the wandering-on through birth & death, again & again, in this state here or anywhere else, that destination is simply through ignorance. This ignorance is a great delusion whereby they have wandered-on a long, long time. While beings immersed in clear knowing don’t go to further becoming.“Now, if there are any who ask, ‘Would there be the right contemplation of dualities in yet another way?’ they should be told, ‘There would.’ How would that be? ‘Whatever stress comes into play is all from fabrication as a requisite condition’: This is one contemplation. ‘From the remainderless fading & cessation of that very fabrication, there is no coming into play of stress’: This is a second contemplation. For a monk rightly contemplating this duality in this way—heedful, ardent, & resolute—one of two fruits can be expected: either gnosis right here & now, or—if there be any remnant of clinging-sustenance—non-return.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Having said that, the One Well-Gone, the Teacher, said further:
“Any stress that comes into play is all from fabrication as a requisite condition. With the cessation of fabrication, there is no stress coming into play. Knowing this drawback— that stress comes from fabrication as a requisite condition— with the tranquilizing of all fabrication, with the stopping of perception: That’s how there is the ending of stress. Knowing this as it actually is, an attainer-of-knowledge sees rightly. Seeing rightly, the wise— conquering the fetter of Māra— go to no further becoming.“Now, if there are any who ask, ‘Would there be the right contemplation of dualities in yet another way?’ they should be told, ‘There would.’ How would that be? ‘Whatever stress comes into play is all from consciousness as a requisite condition’: This is one contemplation. ‘From the remainderless fading & cessation of that very consciousness, there is no coming into play of stress’: This is a second contemplation. For a monk rightly contemplating this duality in this way—heedful, ardent, & resolute—one of two fruits can be expected: either gnosis right here & now, or—if there be any remnant of clinging-sustenance—non-return.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Having said that, the One Well-Gone, the Teacher, said further:
“Any stress that comes into play is all from consciousness as a requisite condition. With the cessation of consciousness, there is no stress coming into play. Knowing this drawback— that stress comes from consciousness as a requisite condition— with the stilling of consciousness, the monk free from hunger is totally unbound.“Now, if there are any who ask, ‘Would there be the right contemplation of dualities in yet another way?’ they should be told, ‘There would.’ How would that be? ‘Whatever stress comes into play is all from contact as a requisite condition’: This is one contemplation. ‘From the remainderless fading & cessation of that very contact, there is no coming into play of stress’: This is a second contemplation. For a monk rightly contemplating this duality in this way—heedful, ardent, & resolute—one of two fruits can be expected: either gnosis right here & now, or—if there be any remnant of clinging-sustenance—non-return.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Having said that, the One Well-Gone, the Teacher, said further:
“For those overcome by contact, flowing along in the stream of becoming, following a miserable path, the ending of fetters is far away. While those who comprehend contact, delighting in stilling through discernment, they, by breaking through contact, free from hunger, are totally unbound.“Now, if there are any who ask, ‘Would there be the right contemplation of dualities in yet another way?’ they should be told, ‘There would.’ How would that be? ‘Whatever stress comes into play is all from feeling as a requisite condition’: This is one contemplation. ‘From the remainderless fading & cessation of that very feeling, there is no coming into play of stress’: This is a second contemplation. For a monk rightly contemplating this duality in this way—heedful, ardent, & resolute—one of two fruits can be expected: either gnosis right here & now, or—if there be any remnant of clinging-sustenance—non-return.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Having said that, the One Well-Gone, the Teacher, said further:
“Knowing that whatever is felt— pleasure, pain, neither pleasure nor pain, within or without— is stressful; seeing its deceptive nature, its dissolving, its passing away at each contact, each contact, he knows it right there: With just the ending of feeling, there is no stress coming into play.“Now, if there are any who ask, ‘Would there be the right contemplation of dualities in yet another way?’ they should be told, ‘There would.’ How would that be? ‘Whatever stress comes into play is all from craving as a requisite condition’: This is one contemplation. ‘From the remainderless fading & cessation of that very craving, there is no coming into play of stress’: This is a second contemplation. For a monk rightly contemplating this duality in this way—heedful, ardent, & resolute—one of two fruits can be expected: either gnosis right here & now, or—if there be any remnant of clinging-sustenance—non-return.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Having said that, the One Well-Gone, the Teacher, said further:
“With craving his companion, a man wanders on a long, long time. Neither in this state here nor anywhere else does he go beyond the wandering- on. Knowing this drawback— that craving brings stress into play— free from craving, devoid of clinging, mindful, the monk lives the mendicant life.”3“Now, if there are any who ask, ‘Would there be the right contemplation of dualities in yet another way?’ they should be told, ‘There would.’ How would that be? ‘Whatever stress comes into play is all from clinging as a requisite condition’: This is one contemplation. ‘From the remainderless fading & cessation of that very clinging, there is no coming into play of stress’: This is a second contemplation. For a monk rightly contemplating this duality in this way—heedful, ardent, & resolute—one of two fruits can be expected: either gnosis right here & now, or—if there be any remnant of clinging-sustenance—non-return.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Having said that, the One Well-Gone, the Teacher, said further:
“From clinging as a requisite condition comes becoming. One who has come into being goes to stress. There is death for one who is born. This is the coming into play of stress. Thus, with the ending of clinging, the wise seeing rightly, directly knowing the ending of birth, go to no further becoming.“Now, if there are any who ask, ‘Would there be the right contemplation of dualities in yet another way?’ they should be told, ‘There would.’ How would that be? ‘Whatever stress comes into play is all from arousal4 as a requisite condition’: This is one contemplation. ‘From the remainderless fading & cessation of that very arousal, there is no coming into play of stress’: This is a second contemplation. For a monk rightly contemplating this duality in this way—heedful, ardent, & resolute—one of two fruits can be expected: either gnosis right here & now, or—if there be any remnant of clinging-sustenance—non-return.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Having said that, the One Well-Gone, the Teacher, said further:
“Any stress that comes into play is all from arousal as a requisite condition. With the cessation of arousal, there is no stress coming into play. Knowing this drawback— that stress comes from arousal as a requisite condition— with the relinquishing of all arousal, a monk released in non-arousal, his craving for becoming crushed, his mind at peace, his wandering-on in birth totally ended: He has no further becoming.“Now, if there are any who ask, ‘Would there be the right contemplation of dualities in yet another way?’ they should be told, ‘There would.’ How would that be? ‘Whatever stress comes into play is all from nutriment5 as a requisite condition’: This is one contemplation. ‘From the remainderless fading & cessation of that very nutriment, there is no coming into play of stress’: This is a second contemplation. For a monk rightly contemplating this duality in this way—heedful, ardent, & resolute—one of two fruits can be expected: either gnosis right here & now, or—if there be any remnant of clinging-sustenance—non-return.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Having said that, the One Well-Gone, the Teacher, said further:
“Any stress that comes into play is all from nutriment as a requisite condition. With the cessation of nutriment, there is no stress coming into play. Knowing this drawback— that stress comes from nutriment as a requisite condition— comprehending all nutriment, independent of all nutriment,6 rightly seeing freedom from disease through the total ending of effluents, judiciously associating, a judge, he, an attainer-of-knowledge, goes beyond judgment, beyond classification.7“Now, if there are any who ask, ‘Would there be the right contemplation of dualities in yet another way?’ they should be told, ‘There would.’ How would that be? ‘Whatever stress comes into play is all from what is perturbed as a requisite condition’: This is one contemplation. ‘From the remainderless fading & cessation of what is perturbed, there is no coming into play of stress’: This is a second contemplation. For a monk rightly contemplating this duality in this way—heedful, ardent, & resolute—one of two fruits can be expected: either gnosis right here & now, or—if there be any remnant of clinging-sustenance—non-return.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Having said that, the One Well-Gone, the Teacher, said further:
“Any stress that comes into play is all from what is perturbed as a requisite condition. With the cessation of what is perturbed, there is no stress coming into play. Knowing this drawback— that stress comes from what is perturbed as a requisite condition— the monk thus renouncing perturbance, putting a stop to fabrications, free from perturbance, free from clinging, mindful he lives the mendicant life.“Now, if there are any who ask, ‘Would there be the right contemplation of dualities in yet another way?’ they should be told, ‘There would.’ How would that be? ‘For one who is dependent, there is wavering’: This is one contemplation. ‘One who is independent doesn’t waver’: This is a second contemplation. For a monk rightly contemplating this duality in this way—heedful, ardent, & resolute—one of two fruits can be expected: either gnosis right here & now, or—if there be any remnant of clinging-sustenance—non-return.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Having said that, the One Well-Gone, the Teacher, said further:
“One independent doesn’t waver. One dependent, clinging to this state here or anywhere else, doesn’t go beyond the wandering-on. Knowing this drawback— the great danger in dependencies— in- dependent, free from clinging, mindful the monk lives the mendicant life.8“Now, if there are any who ask, ‘Would there be the right contemplation of dualities in yet another way?’ they should be told, ‘There would.’ How would that be? ‘Formless phenomena are more peaceful than forms’: This is one contemplation. ‘Cessation is more peaceful than formless phenomena’: This is a second contemplation. For a monk rightly contemplating this duality in this way—heedful, ardent, & resolute—one of two fruits can be expected: either gnosis right here & now, or—if there be any remnant of clinging-sustenance—non-return.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Having said that, the One Well-Gone, the Teacher, said further:
Those beings headed to forms, and those standing in the formless, with no knowledge of cessation, return to further becoming. But, comprehending form, not taking a stance in formless things, those released in cessation are people who’ve left death behind.9“Now, if there are any who ask, ‘Would there be the right contemplation of dualities in yet another way?’ they should be told, ‘There would.’ How would that be? ‘Whatever is considered as “This is true” by the world with its devas, Māras, & Brahmās, by this generation with its contemplatives & brahmans, its royalty & commonfolk, is rightly seen as it has come to be with right discernment by the noble ones as “This is false”’: This is one contemplation. ‘Whatever is considered as “This is false” by the world with its devas, Māras, & Brahmās, by this generation with its contemplatives & brahmans, its royalty & commonfolk, is rightly seen as it has come to be with right discernment by the noble ones as “This is true”’: This is a second contemplation. For a monk rightly contemplating this duality in this way—heedful, ardent, & resolute—one of two fruits can be expected: either gnosis right here & now, or—if there be any remnant of clinging-sustenance—non-return.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Having said that, the One Well-Gone, the Teacher, said further:
“See the world, together with its devas, supposing not-self to be self. Entrenched in name-&-form, they suppose that ‘This is true.’ In whatever terms they suppose it, it turns into something other than that,10 and that’s what’s false about it: Changing, it’s deceptive by nature. Undeceptive by nature is unbinding11: That the noble ones know as true. They, through breaking through to the truth, hunger-free, are totally unbound.“Now, if there are any who ask, ‘Would there be the right contemplation of dualities in yet another way?’ they should be told, ‘There would.’ How would that be? ‘Whatever is considered as “This is bliss” by the world with its devas, Māras, & Brahmās, by this generation with its contemplatives & brahmans, its royalty & commonfolk, is rightly seen as it has come to be with right discernment by the noble ones as “This is stressful”’: This is one contemplation. ‘Whatever is considered as “This is stressful” by the world with its devas, Māras, & Brahmās, by this generation with its contemplatives & brahmans, its royalty & commonfolk, is rightly seen as it has come to be with right discernment by the noble ones as “This is bliss”’: This is a second contemplation. For a monk rightly contemplating this duality in this way—heedful, ardent, & resolute—one of two fruits can be expected: either gnosis right here & now, or—if there be any remnant of clinging-sustenance—non-return.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Having said that, the One Well-Gone, the Teacher, said further:
“All sights, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile sensations, & ideas that are welcome, appealing, agreeable— as long as they’re said to exist, are supposed by the world together with its devas to be bliss. But when they cease, that’s supposed by them to be stress. The stopping of self-identity is viewed by the noble ones as bliss. This, when seen, runs counter to the whole world.What others say is blissful, the noble ones say is stress. What others say is stressful, the noble know as bliss. See the Dhamma, hard to understand! Here those who don’t know are confused. For those who are veiled, it’s darkness, blindness for those who don’t see. But for the good it is blatant, like light for those who see.Though in its very presence, they don’t understand it— dumb animals, unadept in the Dhamma. It’s not easy for those overcome by passion for becoming, flowing along in the stream of becoming, falling under Māra’s sway,12 to wake up to this Dhamma. Who, apart from the noble, is worthy to wake up to this state?— the state that, through rightly knowing it, they’re effluent-free, totally unbound.”That is what the Blessed One said. Gratified, the monks delighted in the Blessed One’s words. And while this explanation was being given, the minds of approximately sixty monks, through lack of clinging/sustenance, were released from effluents.
Notes
1. See SN 56:22. ↩
2. The term ‘acquisition’ (upadhi), in its everyday sense, denotes the possessions, baggage, and other paraphernalia that a nomadic family might carry around with it in its wanderings. On the psychological level, it denotes anything for which one might have a sense of ‘I’ or ‘mine’ and which, consequently, one would carry around as a kind of mental baggage. The verse following this prose passage is identical with the Buddha’s first answer to Mettagū in Sn 5:4. ↩
4. Arousal = ārambha, a word with many possible alternative meanings. Among them: disruption; seizure of an object; inception of action (often with violent connotations). ↩
5. “There are these four nutriments for the maintenance of beings who have come into being or for the support of those in search of a place to be born. Which four? Physical food, gross or refined; contact as the second, intellectual intention the third, and consciousness the fourth.” — SN 12:63. For more on this topic, see SN 12:63–64. ↩
7. See Iti 63, SN 1:20, and SN 22:85–86. ↩
§ 59. I have heard that on one occasion the Blessed One was staying near Sāvatthī at Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery. And on that occasion Bāhiya of the Bark-cloth was living in Suppāraka by the seashore. He was worshipped, revered, honored, venerated, and given homage—a recipient of robes, alms food, lodgings, & medicinal requisites for the sick. Then, when he was alone in seclusion, this line of thinking appeared to his awareness: “Now, of those who in this world are arahants or have entered the path of arahantship, am I one?”
Then a devatā who had once been a blood relative of Bāhiya of the Bark-cloth—compassionate, desiring his welfare, knowing with her own awareness the line of thinking that had arisen in his awareness—went to him and on arrival said to him, “You, Bāhiya, are neither an arahant nor have you entered the path of arahantship. You don’t even have the practice whereby you would become an arahant or enter the path of arahantship.”
“Then who, in this world with its devas, are arahants or have entered the path to arahantship?”
“Bāhiya, there is a city in the northern country named Sāvatthī. There the Blessed One—an arahant, rightly self-awakened—is living now. He truly is an arahant and teaches the Dhamma leading to arahantship.”
Then Bāhiya, deeply chastened by the devatā, left Suppāraka right then and, in the space of one night, went all the way to where the Blessed One was staying near Sāvatthī at Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery. Now on that occasion, a large number of monks were doing walking meditation in the open air. He went to them and, on arrival, said, “Where, venerable sirs, is the Blessed One—the arahant, rightly self-awakened—now staying? We want to see that Blessed One—the arahant, rightly self-awakened.”
“The Blessed One has gone into town for alms.”
Then Bāhiya, hurriedly leaving Jeta’s Grove and entering Sāvatthī, saw the Blessed One going for alms in Sāvatthī—serene & inspiring serene confidence, calming, his senses at peace, his mind at peace, having attained the utmost tranquility & poise, tamed, guarded, his senses restrained, a Great One (nāga). Seeing him, he approached the Blessed One and, on reaching him, threw himself down, with his head at the Blessed One’s feet, and said, “Teach me the Dhamma, O Blessed One! Teach me the Dhamma, O One-Well-Gone, that will be for my long-term welfare & happiness.”
When this was said, the Blessed One said to him, “This is not the time, Bāhiya. We have entered the town for alms.”
A second time, Bāhiya said to the Blessed One, “But it is hard to know for sure what dangers there may be for the Blessed One’s life, or what dangers there may be for mine. Teach me the Dhamma, O Blessed One! Teach me the Dhamma, O One-Well-Gone, that will be for my long-term welfare & happiness.”
A second time, the Blessed One said to him, “This is not the time, Bāhiya. We have entered the town for alms.”
A third time, Bāhiya said to the Blessed One, “But it is hard to know for sure what dangers there may be for the Blessed One’s life, or what dangers there may be for mine. Teach me the Dhamma, O Blessed One! Teach me the Dhamma, O One-Well-Gone, that will be for my long-term welfare & happiness.”
“Then, Bāhiya, you should train yourself thus: In reference to the seen, there will be only the seen. In reference to the heard, only the heard. In reference to the sensed, only the sensed. In reference to the cognized, only the cognized. That is how you should train yourself.
“When for you there will be only the seen in reference to the seen, only the heard in reference to the heard, only the sensed in reference to the sensed, only the cognized in reference to the cognized, then, Bāhiya, there is no you in connection with that. When there is no you in connection with that, there is no you there. When there is no you there, you are neither here nor yonder nor between the two. This, just this, is the end of stress.”
Through hearing this brief explanation of the Dhamma from the Blessed One, the mind of Bāhiya of the Bark-cloth right then and there was released from effluents through lack of clinging/sustenance. Having exhorted Bāhiya of the Bark-cloth with this brief explanation of the Dhamma, the Blessed One left.
Now, not long after the Blessed One’s departure, Bāhiya was attacked & killed by a cow with a young calf. Then the Blessed One, having gone for alms in Sāvatthī, after the meal, returning from his alms round with a large number of monks, saw that Bāhiya had died. On seeing him, he said to the monks, “Take Bāhiya’s body, monks, and, placing it on a litter and carrying it away, cremate it and build him a memorial. Your companion in the holy life has died.”
Responding, “As you say, lord,” to the Blessed One, the monks—placing Bāhiya’s body on a litter, carrying it away, cremating it, and building him a memorial—went to the Blessed One. On arrival, having bowed down to him, sat to one side. As they were sitting there, they said to him, “Bāhiya’s body has been cremated, lord, and his memorial has been built. What is his destination? What is his future state?”
“Monks, Bāhiya of the Bark-cloth was wise. He practiced the Dhamma in accordance with the Dhamma and didn’t pester me with issues related to the Dhamma. Bāhiya of the Bark-cloth, monks, is totally unbound.”
Then, on realizing the significance of that, the Blessed One on that occasion exclaimed:
Where water, earth, fire, & wind have no footing: There the stars don’t shine, the sun isn’t visible. There the moon doesn’t appear. There darkness is not found. And when a sage, a brahman through sagacity, has realized [this] for himself, then from form & formless, from pleasure & pain, he is freed.
§ 60. Then Ven. Māluṅkyaputta, who was ardent & resolute, went to the Blessed One and, on arrival, having bowed down to him, sat to one side. As he was sitting there, he said to the Blessed One: “It would be good, lord, if the Blessed One would teach me the Dhamma in brief so that, having heard the Dhamma from the Blessed One, I might dwell alone in seclusion: heedful, ardent, & resolute.”
“Here now, Māluṅkyaputta: What will I say to the young monks when you—aged, old, elderly, along in years, come to the last stage of life—ask for an admonition in brief?”
“Lord, even though I’m aged, old, elderly, along in years, come to the last stage of life, may the Blessed One teach me the Dhamma in brief! May the One Well-Gone teach me the Dhamma in brief! It may well be that I’ll understand the Blessed One’s words. It may well be that I’ll become an heir to the Blessed One’s words.”
“What do you think, Māluṅkyaputta? The forms cognizable via the eye that are unseen by you—that you have never before seen, that you don’t see, and that are not to be seen by you: Do you have any desire or passion or love there?”
“No, lord.”
“The sounds cognizable via the ear…
“The aromas cognizable via the nose…
“The flavors cognizable via the tongue…
“The tactile sensations cognizable via the body…
“The ideas cognizable via the intellect that are uncognized by you–the you have never before cognized, that you don’t cognize, and that are not to be cognized by you: Do you have any desire or passion or love there?”
“No, lord.”
“Then, Māluṅkyaputta, with regard to phenomena to be seen, heard, sensed, or cognized: In reference to the seen, there will be only the seen. In reference to the heard, only the heard. In reference to the sensed, only the sensed. In reference to the cognized, only the cognized. That is how you should train yourself. When for you there will be only the seen in reference to the seen, only the heard in reference to the heard, only the sensed in reference to the sensed, only the cognized in reference to the cognized, then, Māluṅkyaputta, there is no you in connection with that. When there is no you in connection with that, there is no you there. When there is no you there, you are neither here nor yonder nor between the two. This, just this, is the end of stress.”
“I understand in detail, lord, the meaning of what the Blessed One has said in brief:
Seeing a form —mindfulness lapsed— attending to the theme of ‘endearing,’ impassioned in mind, one feels and remains fastened on it. One’s feelings, born of the form, grow numerous, Greed & annoyance injure one’s mind. Thus amassing stress, one is said to be far from unbinding.Hearing a sound… Smelling an aroma… Tasting a flavor… Touching a tactile sensation…Knowing an idea —mindfulness lapsed— attending to the theme of ‘endearing,’ impassioned in mind, one feels and remains fastened on it. One’s feelings, born of the idea, grow numerous, Greed & annoyance injure one’s mind. Thus amassing stress, one is said to be far from unbinding.Not impassioned with forms —seeing a form with mindfulness firm— dispassioned in mind, one knows and doesn’t remain fastened on it. While one is seeing a form —and even experiencing feeling— it falls away and doesn’t accumulate. Thus one fares mindfully. Thus not amassing stress, one is said to be in the presence of unbinding.Not impassioned with sounds… Not impassioned with aromas… Not impassioned with flavors… Not impassioned with tactile sensations…Not impassioned with ideas —knowing an idea with mindfulness firm— dispassioned in mind, one knows and doesn’t remain fastened on it. While one is knowing an idea —and even experiencing feeling— it falls away and doesn’t accumulate. Thus one fares mindfully. Thus not amassing stress, one is said to be in the presence of unbinding.“It’s in this way, lord, that I understand in detail the meaning of what the Blessed One said in brief.”
“Excellent, Māluṅkyaputta. Excellent. It’s excellent that you understand in detail this way the meaning of what I said in brief.”
[The Buddha then repeats the verses.]
“It’s in this way, Māluṅkyaputta, that the meaning of what I said in brief should be regarded in detail.”
Then Ven. Māluṅkyaputta, having been admonished by the admonishment from the Blessed One, got up from his seat and bowed down to the Blessed One, circled around him, keeping the Blessed One to his right side, and left. Then—dwelling alone, secluded, heedful, ardent, & resolute—he in no long time entered & remained in the supreme goal of the holy life for which clansmen rightly go forth from home into homelessness, directly knowing & realizing it for himself in the here & now. He knew: “Birth is ended, the holy life fulfilled, the task done. There is nothing further for the sake of this world.” And thus Ven. Māluṅkyaputta became another one of the arahants.
