Barlaam and Josaphat: A Christian Tale of the Buddha

by Gui de Cambrai

  “As I see it, you don’t have any pity for me at all since you allow me to suffer,” said the body. “I would prefer that you leave me rather than stay with me like this. My flesh is pale and weak. My face is discolored. If you are my lady, you are a bad one when you neglect me like this!”

  “I neglect you? By God, I do not, my friend. On the contrary, I care for you constantly. I suffer a harsh penance to save you from judgment, but rather than help, you hinder me. You seek your own death and you would destroy me too. You give me bad advice while I suffer pain and misery to pay for your pleasures. I make a distressful pilgrimage through the hermitage to win you a crown, and you should rejoice in it! Friend, what would happen to you without me? I feed and look after you, and you lust after sin. I do not know what I can say to you since you try to kill me. You cannot last long here, and you will have to die. Think about this, I do not jest! This life is but a brief passage, and you will die forever if God does not redeem you. Remember the coming judgment, the joy of heaven, and the torments of hell!”

  “What?” the body exclaimed. “Are those who enjoy pleasure in this world tormented when they die?”

  “Yes, truly, it is so. They are justly tormented, for the world deceives them and they do not repent.”

  “When a man repents before he dies, will he be saved?”

  “Yes, truly, of all his sins. But such a repentance is a fearful salvation.”

  “How so? I will repent and then afterward I will fear?”

  “To fear and repent is fitting for one who wishes to pay for his sins. If he has sinned against his Lord, should he not then fear?”

  “If he would pay for his sins, then it follows that he repents and regrets his wrongdoing.”

  “What you say is true, but there are some who are so taken by the world that they sin unreasonably.”

  “So if I sin using reason, will I be condemned for it?”

  “Sin using reason? By God, it is a great sin when you link reason with wrongdoing, for no one can sin by reason.”

  “Yes they can.”

  “How?”

  “One can sin reasonably.”

  “By God, this is not true and cannot be. Our ancestors tell us that reason is always against sin. You know that reason can only include the good. Sin is evil, not good, and anyone who would think it possible to sin reasonably is not a Christian.”

  “Reason is essential, then, for it is true that if reason did not oppose sin, no man would ever stop sinning,” said the body.

  “Friend, that is true. God and reason always forbid sin. When a man sins, he lacks reason, moderation, and knowledge, but these come to the sinner through the sweet pity and mercy of the Creator.”

  “Now I believe that I am a sinner,” said the body. “Many sins dwell in me as long as I am called a sinner. But tell me: how can anyone find reason in me without sin? I was a sinner and sin will remain with me as long as I do wrong, it seems to me. Reason, knowledge, rectitude, and moderation should rightly raise me out of my sin. But you said that in your opinion, reason would never be found with sin? But reason could be found with sin in a sinner.”

  “This is true—you have said it well, for when a man is sinning, reason is nowhere to be found, but then it comes quickly to chastise and blame the sinner for his foolishness. So reason comes to the sinner and chastises him for what he has done, but reason is not present while he is sinning.”

  “Now I understand,” said the body. “But tell me truly why you keep me in such shame. You could make my life easier if you had more consideration for me.”

  “Yes, I could let you sin, but that would be your damnation. You will be judged for your sins. You want to damn us both, but I want to save you.”

  “I don’t want to damn us.”

  “Oh yes, you do.”

  “Is one damned if one commits a wrong?”

  “Yes, certainly, if he does not repent.”

  “Is it wrong to dress well or eat one’s fill?”

  “Yes, for there is pride in dressing well—and now I regret that I used to dress you so well—and banquets lead to gluttony, excessive boasting, and debauchery.”

  “True, that can happen to those who eat too well. But if one eats reasonably, is that a sin? Teach me.”

  “By God, no, or so I believe. I see no wrong in anything done with reason. But you are so unbridled that if you saw the opportunity to eat and drink well, you would not be able to resist.”

  “You have restrained me well, for I have had no such opportunity. I am nothing but bones and skin.”

  “Yes, and, by God, I am pleased about that. And you still have more than you deserve.”

  “By God, I do not. I have been brought too low—I wish you had some other body.”

  “Yes, you would like that. Wretched thing, you are deceived by the devil who dwells in you!”

  “There is nothing in me but unhappiness and anger.”

  “That is exactly what I mean. What I said is true. There would be no anger without the devil.”

  “Yes, there is anger in me, but you know very well that I can be angry without the devil’s help.”

  “You know that anger is a sin, and as my master taught me, sin cannot exist without the devil.”

  “And how can I not be angry? You took away my great empire, my privileges, and my wealth. I am thin and my flesh is stained—you have enslaved me. I am wasting away in this hermitage. You have imprisoned me, and you reward me badly.”

  “On the contrary, I reward you well. You put your crown and your wealth in my control, and I spent them well.”

  “Tell me where you spent them.”

  “I will gladly tell you. I gave them to God, I do not deny it, for he is my companion and lord.”

  “You gave them to your companion? How can that be? Does God need to take from me? Is he not rich enough? He has enough—he doesn’t need my wealth.”

  “You are wrong. He needs it. Do you know how? When one gives to the poor, that is giving to God, as he commands. All the world is under his law. I took your wealth to save you and so God would have mercy on you.”

  “Mercy? He does not work by mercy, but by force, since he forced me to be miserable and poor.”

  “No, he did not. Tell me truly if you suffer against your will.”

  “I don’t know why I would lie about it. I would gladly renounce this suffering, for I cannot bear the pain and sorrow you force me to endure.”

  “This pain is a pleasure compared to the pain in the deep pit of hell where those who sin are condemned.”

  “What? Are bodies that live in the world damned even when they do not lead such a bad life?”

  “I do not say they are damned—that would not make sense. Perhaps they sin sometimes because the pleasures of the world draw them in. It is easier to understand for those who see God than for those who will never see him.”

  “See him? One can easily see him and remain in the world to serve him. One can do both of these things: love the world and see God.”

  “No, that is not true. No one who loves the world will ever see God on the cross, and Christians reject the deceptions of this world.”

  “Why? Can one not love it?”

  “Not if he would save his soul. The world is poison, and whoever dwells fully in it will be damned.”

  “But one could live here in moderation.”

  “Friend, God says in the scriptures that those who dwell in the world are confounded by their love for it. If they do not leave it in good faith, they will never be with God or see his face.”

  “That is a harsh judgment,” said the body, “and a reason to leave the world.”

  “Now I hear you speak with reason,” replied the soul. “Whoever loves God and his Holy Name should leave the world without delay.”

  “Love him? I cannot love him, for
he is too harsh and bitter.”

  “He certainly is not. He is sweet and merciful.”

  “But he has brought me to such a harsh place and makes me suffer, and I have lost everything I desire.”

  “That is not true, if what you desire is to be in heaven with celestial glory. You will go there without fear if you willingly undertake your penance.”

  “My penance? Have you lost your senses? Do you think I will willingly accept nakedness and hunger? This place is too harsh! I am dying of hunger and thirst! Will you not have pity on me?”

  “What pity, you wretched one? I have taken you out of sin and will win you a crown that no one will ever steal from you.”

  “The day is long. Nothing you describe will ever happen. Where would such a crown come from? You already took one from me, and I am sorry to have lost it. It pains me to have lost my crown and my inheritance.”

  “Your inheritance? By God, your thoughts are disloyal. Do you not see that all those who wish for an earthly crown will die? The crown does not save them, nor does prestige or sovereignty. Don’t all kings die? Friend, recognize that if you were a king, you would die. You would not escape it, for man’s life is short and inconstant. If you do not leave these thoughts behind, you will gain nothing from your sojourn in this wilderness. If your heart serves envy, your good works will be for nothing, for your envious heart reveals that you are ruled by sin. You have said too much, and if you believe what you say, then you are taken in by your own sin.”

  “Taken in? No, I am not, for I will follow the Christian religion. But you oppress me too harshly. I cannot bear it much longer.”

  “You will have to bear it, for it will bring you rewards and great joy. Do not complain about it, but act without delay for your end is very near.”

  “What end?”

  “The end of your life. You are wrong to reproach me, for you will die soon.”

  “You did this to me, do not deny it! You have deprived me and I am dying. You will not help me, and I am sorry that you are willing to kill me.”

  “Now you have misunderstood. If you were well fed and dressed in rich clothes, you would still have to die. A full belly, silken clothes, and all the pleasure in the world could not save you.”

  “I know all that and believe it, but I say that for me, my life would be longer if I had the company of the world and its pleasures.”

  “No, it would not, according to my belief. This life is not really life; it glorifies itself. Whoever is truly repentant, a true Christian and true believer, and suffers pain for God, he will live forever in happiness. If you will renounce your desires and look to God, you can live a long life.”

  “My reward is to live?”

  “Yes, by God! Life, forgiveness, and never-ending joy. Your reward will endure forever. Why do you care about what you do in this world as long as God has mercy on you? You should not care about anything except gaining forgiveness. Your flesh will rot and become a pasture for worms. At the Day of Judgment I will come to you and we will be reunited. We will be crowned in heaven above if you will repent with a good heart in true belief. Leave your foolish pride behind! The span of your life is short, and you do not have long to live. You will soon die, and on Judgment Day you will rise again. Endure the pains and the ills: through them you will be saved.”

  The body said, “I will sorrow no longer. I care for neither honor nor pride, and I will do your will since it leads to my salvation. The pain no longer hurts me and it passes quickly. I no longer regret my suffering. I am eager to serve God, and I give myself to him. Let him do with me as he will!”

  Josaphat struggled and suffered greatly in the wilderness. He loved and served God with a good heart. For two years he sought his master without finding him. I believe it sorrowed him greatly, for he lamented often. His skin was blackened by the heat and cold, but he regretted nothing and gave his love, his heart, and all he had to God. The devil tempted him often and shook his resolve, but Josaphat took everything to God, who helped and comforted him. He put his heart on high, with God, and surrendered it to him. The devil assaulted him often and marveled that he could not sway him, for Josaphat’s heart was pure.

  Josaphat finds Barlaam

  Josaphat lived in the hermitage. His beard and his hair grew long. One day he came upon a wise man living deep in the wilderness, and he rejoiced to see him. The hermit watched the naked Josaphat approach him. Josaphat bowed before the hermit and asked if he knew Barlaam and where he lived and if he had seen him recently. “I know him well and spoke to him not long ago,” the hermit responded. Josaphat rejoiced to hear news of Barlaam and eagerly asked how to find him. The holy hermit led him to the path he should take, and Josaphat continued until he came to a cave in a high, steep rock. He entered it joyfully and saw his master. He greeted him and Barlaam returned his greeting, but the hermit did not recognize Josaphat. He saw a thin, pale, disfigured man, naked, with a long beard and hair and a narrow chest.

  Josaphat’s white body had blackened and his beauty was ruined. The young man Josaphat had been as beautiful and as freshly colored as the rose alongside the lily. He was like an enameled portrait where the red combines with the white, but now it was as though the enameling had become worn and the contrast between the rosy red and lily white was lost. The rose and lily lamented, for they could no longer combine to give him color. The red and the white had faded, his fresh coloring was lost, and his face was completely black. Only the shape remained of his face’s former beauty, and his form was all that identified him as a man. He wore, around his waist, the garment his master had given him, and it was black and stained. Over it he wore a coat made from reeds. He was thin and emaciated. This is how he looked when he came to Barlaam, who received him piously.

  “Master,” he said, “do you know me? I am Josaphat, the king’s son, whom you came to convert. My father was King Avenir. Do you recognize me? We have not met for many years. I have sought you, Master, and now I have found you. I praise God and thank him for bringing me here.”

  When Barlaam recognized Josaphat, he rose to his feet. He looked at him carefully and then kissed and embraced him. Barlaam could not find words to speak his happiness. He studied Josaphat and felt compassion for the beautiful, pale young man who had become so black and discolored. Barlaam could not contain his joy, and he embraced Josaphat repeatedly. He marveled at the suffering the young man had experienced on the harsh wilderness path he followed with bare feet. What painful trials he had suffered for his Creator! Barlaam and Josaphat sat in front of the rock, and Barlaam asked him about his father. Josaphat told him that Avenir had converted in the end and believed in God. He told Barlaam that he had left his lands to seek him, and that he had searched for two years and found him only after a hermit indicated the way.

  Barlaam embraced Josaphat sweetly and gave him a holy kiss. They spoke of many things, and then they rose and went to pray before the crucifix on the altar. When they had worshipped for some time and talked of many things, they sat to eat. There was no rich food, no fish, meat, or wine; there were no silver plates, and not one crumb of bread. The young man did not forget to thank his Creator (it was already the hour of noon prayers). They ate apples they had found in the wild and herbs, roots, and plants. They drank bitter water. “Good son, I offer you the food your Father provides to us,” said Barlaam.

  “Master, there is great comfort here. It has been two years since I left my dwelling to come to this hermitage. I have found it very harsh, and never did I find as much to eat as I have had at this dinner. I must thank God for it, since he sent me to you.”

  “Good son, you are most welcome. How did you sustain your body in such misery in the wilderness?”

  “It had more than it deserved. I must not be concerned with my body if I would save my soul.”

  Barlaam and Josaphat became companions in the struggle to live a saintly life. Each took the other as a model: Josap
hat wanted to match his master, and Barlaam did not hide his wonder at the young man’s effort and dedication. He marveled that such understanding could be found in one so young. The day had barely dawned when Josaphat began to pray. He dedicated himself to God’s service, sleeping little and remaining awake to pray. Barlaam advised him to do less, but Josaphat thought that was wrong, for he felt he did not do enough. He went to pray secretly in a hidden place, because his master chastised and reproved him, but he did not cease his vigil.

  They lived together like this for a long time. Josaphat did not weaken, but Barlaam came to the end of his life, and the holy angels showed him that he would die soon. He told the young man what the angels had revealed to him, and Josaphat wept. He was sad, but Barlaam rejoiced because he knew God called for him—to him, there was no better news in the world. Josaphat said, “Father, Master, tell me how you can leave me when I love you with such good faith? How can you leave me alone in this wild hermitage? I am sorrowful that you would leave our sweet companionship while I still live. My friend, master, and father, what will I do when you leave here without me? Take me with you, by your mercy! You converted me and then you had me baptized a Christian. My lord, you have done so many good things for me—you took me as your friend and you are my companion. Take pity on me and do not leave. My lord, put off your departure, for I cannot bear to remain behind. Master, for God’s sake, relent and have mercy on me, for I cannot remain here alone.”