Sutta Nipata

Any doubts that I once had, you have answered for me, O Clear-eyed One. Clearly you are a sage, an Awakened One, there are no hindrances in you.

All your distress is blown away and mown down. Cooled, tamed, steadfast: truth is your strength.

O giant among giants, O great hero, when you are speaking all the gods rejoice, including both Nārada and Pabbata.

Homage to you, O thoroughbred! Homage to you, supreme among men! In the world with its gods, you have no rival.

You are the Buddha, you are the Teacher, you are the sage who has overcome Māra; you have cut off the underlying tendencies, you’ve crossed over, and you bring humanity across.

You have transcended attachments, your defilements are shattered; you are a lion free of grasping, with fear and dread given up.

Like a graceful lotus to which water does not stick, so both good and evil do not stick to you. Stretch out your feet, great hero: Sabhiya bows to the Teacher.”

Then the wanderer Sabhiya bowed with his head to the Buddha’s feet and said, “Excellent, sir! Excellent! … I go for refuge to the Buddha, to the teaching, and to the mendicant Saṅgha. Sir, may I receive the going forth, the ordination in the Buddha’s presence?”

“Sabhiya, if someone formerly ordained in another sect wishes to take the going forth, the ordination in this teaching and training, they must spend four months on probation. When four months have passed, if the mendicants are satisfied, they’ll give the going forth, the ordination into monkhood. However, I recognize individual differences in this matter.”

“Sir, if four months probation are required in such a case, I’ll spend four years on probation. When four years have passed, if the mendicants are satisfied, let them give me the going forth, the ordination into monkhood.” And the wanderer Sabhiya received the going forth, the ordination in the Buddha’s presence. And Venerable Sabhiya became one of the perfected.

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was wandering together with a large Saṅgha of 1,250 mendicants in the land of the Aṅguttarāpans when he arrived at a town of theirs named Āpaṇa. The matted-hair ascetic Keṇiya heard: “It seems the ascetic Gotama—a Sakyan, gone forth from a Sakyan family—has arrived at Āpaṇa, together with a large Saṅgha of 1,250 mendicants. He has this good reputation: ‘That Blessed One is perfected, a fully awakened Buddha, accomplished in knowledge and conduct, holy, knower of the world, supreme guide for those fit for training, teacher of gods and humans, awakened, blessed.’ He has realized with his own insight this world—with its gods, Māras, and divinities, this population with its ascetics and brahmins, gods and humans—and he makes it known to others. He teaches Dhamma that’s good in the beginning, good in the middle, and good in the end, meaningful and well-phrased. And he reveals a spiritual practice that’s entirely full and pure. It’s good to see such perfected ones.”

So Keṇiya approached the Buddha and exchanged greetings with him. When the greetings and polite conversation were over, he sat down to one side. The Buddha educated, encouraged, fired up, and inspired him with a Dhamma talk. Then he said to the Buddha, “Would Worthy Gotama together with the mendicant Saṅgha please accept tomorrow’s meal from me?” When he said this, the Buddha said to him, “The Saṅgha is large, Keṇiya; there are 1,250 mendicants. And you are devoted to the brahmins.”

For a second time, Keṇiya asked the Buddha to accept a meal offering. “Never mind that the Saṅgha is large, with 1,250 mendicants, and that I am devoted to the brahmins. Would Worthy Gotama together with the mendicant Saṅgha please accept tomorrow’s meal from me?” And for a second time, the Buddha gave the same reply.

For a third time, Keṇiya asked the Buddha to accept a meal offering. “Never mind that the Saṅgha is large, with 1,250 mendicants, and that I am devoted to the brahmins. Would Worthy Gotama together with the mendicant Saṅgha please accept tomorrow’s meal from me?” The Buddha consented with silence. Then, knowing that the Buddha had consented, Keṇiya rose from his seat and went to his own hermitage. There he addressed his friends and colleagues, relatives and kin, “My friends and colleagues, relatives and kin: please listen! The ascetic Gotama together with the mendicant Saṅgha has been invited by me for tomorrow’s meal. Please help me out with the manual preparations.” “Yes, worthy sir,” they replied. Some dug ovens, some chopped wood, some washed dishes, some set up a water jar, and some spread out seats. Meanwhile, Keṇiya set up the pavilion himself.

Now at that time the brahmin Sela was residing in Āpaṇa. He had mastered the three Vedas, together with their vocabularies and ritual performance, their phonology and word classification, and the testaments as fifth. He knew them word-by-word, and their grammar. He was well versed in cosmology and the marks of a great man. And he was teaching three hundred young students to recite the hymns.

And at that time Keṇiya was devoted to Sela. Then Sela, while going for a walk escorted by the three hundred young students, approached Keṇiya’s hermitage. He saw the preparations going on, and said to Keṇiya, “Worthy Keṇiya, is your son or daughter being married? Or are you setting up a grand sacrifice? Or has King Seniya Bimbisāra of Magadha been invited for tomorrow’s meal?”

“There is no marriage, Worthy Sela, and the king is not coming. Rather, I am setting up a grand sacrifice. The ascetic Gotama has arrived at Āpaṇa, together with a large Saṅgha of 1,250 mendicants. He has this good reputation: ‘That Blessed One is perfected, a fully awakened Buddha, accomplished in knowledge and conduct, holy, knower of the world, supreme guide for those fit for training, teacher of gods and humans, awakened, blessed.’ He has been invited by me for tomorrow’s meal together with the mendicant Saṅgha.” “Did you say ‘the awakened one’?” “I said ‘the awakened one’.” “Did you say ‘the awakened one’?” “I said ‘the awakened one’.”

Then Sela thought: “It’s hard to even find the word ‘awakened one’ in the world. The thirty-two marks of a great man have been handed down in our hymns. A great man who possesses these has only two possible destinies, no other. If he stays at home he becomes a king, a wheel-turning monarch, a just and principled king. His dominion extends to all four sides, he achieves stability in the country, and he possesses the seven treasures. He has the following seven treasures: the wheel, the elephant, the horse, the jewel, the woman, the householder, and the commander as the seventh treasure. He has over a thousand sons who are valiant and heroic, crushing the armies of his enemies. After conquering this land girt by sea, he reigns by principle, without rod or sword. But if he goes forth from the lay life to homelessness, he becomes a perfected one, a fully awakened Buddha, who has cast off the world’s veil.” He said, “But Keṇiya, where is the Blessed One at present, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha?”

When he said this, Keṇiya pointed with his right arm and said, “There, worthy Sela, at that line of blue forest.” Then Sela, together with his young students, approached the Buddha. He said to his young students, “Come quietly, gentlemen, tread gently. For the Buddhas are intimidating, like a lion living alone. When I’m consulting with the ascetic Gotama, don’t interrupt. Wait until I’ve finished speaking.”

Then Sela went up to the Buddha, and exchanged greetings with him. When the greetings and polite conversation were over, he sat down to one side, and scrutinized the Buddha’s body for the thirty-two marks of a great man. He saw all of them except two, which he had doubts about: whether the private parts were sheathed in a foreskin, and the largeness of the tongue.

Then it occurred to the Buddha, “Sela sees all the marks except two, which he has doubts about: whether the private parts are sheathed in a foreskin, and the largeness of the tongue.” The Buddha used his psychic power to will that Sela would see his private parts sheathed in a foreskin. And he stuck out his tongue and stroked back and forth on his ear holes and nostrils, and covered his entire forehead with his tongue.

Then Sela thought, “The ascetic Gotama possesses the thirty-two marks completely, lacking none. But I don’t know whether or not he is an awakened one. I have heard that brahmins of the past who were elderly and senior, the tutors of tutors, said, ‘Those who are perfected ones, fully awakened Buddhas reveal themselves when praised.’ Why don’t I extoll him in his presence with fitting verses?” Then Sela extolled the Buddha in his presence with fitting verses:

“O Blessed One, your body’s perfect, you’re radiant, handsome, lovely to behold; golden colored, with teeth so white; you’re strong.

The characteristics of a handsome man, the marks of a great man, are all found on your body.

Your eyes are clear, your face is fair, you’re formidable, upright, majestic. In the midst of the Saṅgha of ascetics, you dazzle like the sun.

You’re a mendicant fine to see, with skin that shines like lustrous gold. But with such excellent appearance, what do you want with the ascetic life?

You’re fit to be a king, a wheel-turning monarch, chief of charioteers, victorious in the four quarters, lord of the Black Plum Tree Land.

Aristocrats, nobles, and kings ought follow your rule. Gotama, may you reign as king of kings, lord of mankind!”

“I am a king, Sela”, said the Buddha, “the supreme king of the teaching. By the teaching I roll forth the wheel which cannot be rolled back.”

“You claim to be awakened,” said Sela the brahmin, “the supreme king of the teaching. ‘I roll forth the teaching’: so you say, Gotama.

Then who is your general, the disciple who follows the Teacher’s way? Who keeps rolling the wheel of the teaching you rolled forth?”

“By me the wheel was rolled forth,” said the Buddha, “the supreme wheel of the teaching. Sāriputta, taking after the Realized One, keeps it rolling on.

I have known what should be known, and developed what should be developed, and given up what should be given up: and so, brahmin, I am a Buddha.

Dispel your doubt in me— make up your mind, brahmin! The sight of a Buddha is hard to find again.

I am a Buddha, brahmin, the supreme surgeon, one of those whose appearance in the world is hard to find again.

A manifestation of divinity, unequaled, crusher of Māra’s army; having subdued all my opponents, I rejoice, fearing nothing from any quarter.”

“Pay heed, good fellows, to what is spoken by the Clear-eyed One. The surgeon, the great hero, roars like a lion in the jungle.

A manifestation of divinity, unequaled, crusher of Māra’s army; who would not be inspired by him, even one born in a dark class?

Those who wish may follow me; those who don’t may go. Right here, I’ll go forth in his presence, the one of such outstanding wisdom.”

“Sir, if you endorse the teaching of the Buddha, we’ll also go forth in his presence, the one of such outstanding wisdom.”

“These three hundred brahmins with cupped palms held up, ask: ‘May we lead the spiritual life in your presence, Blessed One?’”

“The spiritual life is well explained,” said the Buddha, “apparent in the present life, immediately effective. Here the going forth isn’t in vain for one who trains with diligence.”

And the brahmin Sela together with his assembly received the going forth, the ordination in the Buddha’s presence. And when the night had passed Keṇiya had delicious fresh and cooked foods prepared in his own hermitage. Then he had the Buddha informed of the time, saying, “It’s time, worthy Gotama, the meal is ready.” Then the Buddha robed up in the morning and, taking his bowl and robe, went to Keṇiya’s hermitage, where he sat down on the seat spread out together with the Saṅgha of mendicants.

Then Keṇiya served and satisfied the mendicant Saṅgha headed by the Buddha with his own hands with delicious fresh and cooked foods. When the Buddha had eaten and washed his hand and bowl, Keṇiya took a low seat and sat to one side. The Buddha expressed his appreciation with these verses:

“The foremost of sacrifices <j>is the offering to the sacred flame; the Sāvitrī is the foremost of prayer; of humans, the king is the foremost; the ocean’s the foremost of rivers;

the foremost of stars is the moon; the sun is the foremost of blazes; for those who sacrifice seeking merit, the Saṅgha is the foremost.”

When the Buddha had expressed his appreciation to Keṇiya the matted-hair ascetic with these verses, he rose from his seat and left. Then Venerable Sela and his assembly, living alone, withdrawn, diligent, keen, and resolute, soon realized the supreme culmination of the spiritual path in this very life. They lived having achieved with their own insight the goal for which gentlemen rightly go forth from the lay life to homelessness. And Venerable Sela together with his assembly became perfected.

Then Sela with his assembly went to the Buddha. He arranged his robe over one shoulder, raised his joined palms toward the Buddha, and said:

“This is the eighth day since we went for refuge, O Clear-eyed One. In these seven days, Blessed One, we’ve become tamed in your teaching.

You are the Buddha, you are the Teacher, you are the sage who has overcome Māra; you have cut off the underlying tendencies, you’ve crossed over, and you bring humanity across.

You have transcended attachments, your defilements are shattered; you are a lion free of grasping, with fear and dread given up.

These three hundred mendicants stand with cupped palms raised. Stretch out your feet, great hero: let these giants bow to the Teacher.”

Unforeseen and unknown is the extent of this mortal life— hard and short and bound to pain.

There is no way that those born will not die. On reaching old age death follows: such is the nature of living creatures.

As ripe fruit are always in danger of falling, so mortals once born are always in danger of death.

As clay pots made by a potter all end up being broken, so is the life of mortals.

Young and old, foolish and wise— all go under the sway of death; all are destined to die.

When those overcome by death leave this world for the next, a father cannot protect his son, nor relatives their kin.

See how, while relatives look on, wailing profusely, mortals are led away one by one, like a cow to the slaughter.

And so the world is stricken by old age and by death. That is why the attentive do not grieve, for they understand the way of the world.

For one whose path you do not know— not whence they came nor where they went— you lament in vain, seeing neither end.

If a bewildered person, lamenting and self-harming, could extract any good from that, then those who see clearly would do the same.

For not by weeping and wailing will you find peace of heart. It just gives rise to more suffering, and distresses your body.

Growing thin and pale, you hurt yourself. It does nothing to help the dead: your lamentation is in vain.

Unless a personage gives up grief, they fall into suffering all the more. Bewailing those whose time has come, you fall under the sway of grief.

See, too, other folk departing, passing on according to their deeds; fallen under the sway of death, beings flounder while still here.

For however they imagine it, it turns out to be something else. Such is separation: see the way of the world!

Even if a human lives a hundred years or more, they are parted from their family circle, they leave this life behind.

Therefore, having learned from the Perfected One, dispel lamentation. Seeing the dead and departed, think: “I cannot escape this.”

As one would extinguish a blazing refuge with water, so too an attentive one—a wise, astute, and skilled person— would swiftly blow away grief that comes up, like the wind a tuft of cotton.

One who seeks their own happiness would pluck out the dart from themselves— the wailing and praying, and sadness inside.

With dart plucked out, unattached, having found peace of mind, overcoming all sorrow, one is sorrowless and quenched.

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying in a forest near Icchānaṅgala. Now at that time several very well-known well-to-do brahmins were residing in Icchānaṅgala. They included the brahmins Caṅkī, Tārukkha, Pokkharasāti, Jānussoṇi, Todeyya, and others. Then as the students Vāseṭṭha and Bhāradvāja were going for a walk they began to discuss the question: “How do you become a brahmin?”

Bhāradvāja said this: “When you’re well born on both your mother’s and father’s side, stemming from a clean vessel, with irrefutable and impeccable genealogy back to the seventh paternal generation— then you’re a brahmin.”

Vāseṭṭha said this: “When you’re ethical and accomplished in doing your duties— then you’re a brahmin.” But neither was able to persuade the other.

So Vāseṭṭha said to Bhāradvāja, “Worthy Bhāradvāja, the ascetic Gotama—a Sakyan, gone forth from a Sakyan family—is staying in a forest near Icchānaṅgala. He has this good reputation: ‘That Blessed One is perfected, a fully awakened Buddha, accomplished in knowledge and conduct, holy, knower of the world, supreme guide for those fit for training, teacher of gods and humans, awakened, blessed.’ Come, let’s go to see him and ask him about this matter. As he answers, so we’ll remember it.” “Yes, worthy sir,” replied Bhāradvāja.

So they went to the Buddha and exchanged greetings with him. When the greetings and polite conversation were over, they sat down to one side, and Vāseṭṭha addressed the Buddha in verse:

“We’re both authorized masters of the three Vedas. I’m a student of Pokkharasāti, and he of Tārukkha.

We’re fully qualified in all the Vedic experts teach. As philologists and grammarians, we match our tutors in recitation.

We have a dispute regarding genealogy. For Bhāradvāja says that one is a brahmin due to birth, but I declare it’s because of one’s deeds. Oh Clear-eyed One, know this as our debate.

Since neither of us was able to convince the other, we’ve come to ask you, sir, renowned as the awakened one.

As people honor with cupped palms the moon on the cusp of waxing, bowing, they revere Gotama in the world.

We ask this of Gotama, the Eye arisen in the world: is one a brahmin due to birth, or else because of deeds? We don’t know, please tell us, so we can recognize a brahmin.”

“I shall explain to you,” said the Buddha, “accurately and in sequence, the taxonomy of living creatures, for species are indeed diverse.

Know the grass and trees, though they lack self-awareness. They’re defined by birth, for species are indeed diverse.

Next there are bugs that crawl or fly, and so on, to ants and termites. They’re defined by birth, for species are indeed diverse.

Know the quadrupeds, too, both small and large. They’re defined by birth, for species are indeed diverse.

Know, too, the long-backed snakes, crawling on their bellies. They’re defined by birth, for species are indeed diverse.

Next know the fish, whose habitat is the water. They’re defined by birth, for species are indeed diverse.

Next know the birds, winged chariots in flight. They’re defined by birth, for species are indeed diverse.

While the differences between these species are defined by birth, the differences between humans are not defined by birth.

Not by hair nor by head, not by ear nor by eye, not by mouth nor by nose, not by lips nor by eyebrow,

not by shoulder nor by neck, not by belly nor by back, not by buttocks nor by breast, not by groin nor by genitals,

not by hands nor by feet, not by fingers nor by nails, not by knees nor by thighs, not by color nor by voice: none of these are defined by birth as it is for other species.

In specific human bodies you can’t find such distinctions. The distinctions among humans are spoken of by convention.

Anyone among humans who lives off keeping cattle: know them, Vāseṭṭha, as a farmer, not a brahmin.

Anyone among humans who lives off various professions: know them, Vāseṭṭha, as a professional, not a brahmin.

Anyone among humans who lives off trade: know them, Vāseṭṭha, as a trader, not a brahmin.

Anyone among humans who lives off serving others: know them, Vāseṭṭha, as a servant, not a brahmin.

Anyone among humans who lives off stealing: know them, Vāseṭṭha, as a bandit, not a brahmin.