Buddhist Scriptures

by Donald Lopez

  Translation by Daniel Stevenson of the Yulanpen jing, T 685, vol. 16, p. 779a–c.

  36

  LIVING IN THE DEGENERATE AGE

  The Buddha had said that, whether or not buddhas appear in the world, the nature of the dharma remains the same. He also said, however, that the dharma would disappear. These two statements are not contradictory. The first would seem to mean that the nature of reality is unchanging, regardless of whether buddhas appear in the world to reveal (or, perhaps more accurately, rediscover) that reality. The second would seem to refer to the duration of the specific teachings given by a buddha. Numerous predictions of the dharma’s decline and disappearance appear throughout Buddhist literature. Among the most famous is the Buddha’s prediction that, as a result of his decision to admit women to the order, his dharma will last for only 500 years.

  Discussions of the disappearance often include descriptions of the sad state of Buddhist practice. Sometimes these descriptions take the form of prophecies about future decline and prescriptions of how to avoid them; scholars regard many of the prophecies as rhetorical devices in which the author is, in fact, criticizing contemporary monks, but couching the criticism in terms of a prediction. Other descriptions are more straightforward laments about just how bad things have become since the time of the Buddha. The poem below is such a work.

  Accounts of the Buddha’s teachings are replete with reports that, after hearing a single sermon, any number of people attained some level of enlightenment. With the passing of the Buddha there must certainly have been a sense that it would now be more difficult to complete the path, and a certain nostalgia for times now past. It is no longer possible to sit at the Buddha’s feet and receive his instruction. The Buddha is also no longer present to monitor the life of the saṅgha, and laments about the present state commonly include ridicule of lazy monks who do not keep their vows and who care only for their own pleasure, disgracing the dharma.

  In the work below, an ascetic living in the woods recalls the discipline and dedication of the original followers of the Buddha, who cared little for their own comfort, living simple lives in which all of their energies were devoted to the destruction of the āsavas, the contaminants that pollute the mind. Such monks annihilated the āsavas, and annihilated rebirth and suffering in the process. They have now achieved their goal and passed into nirvāṇa. But with the passage of time (it is unclear whether the author is referring to a distant past or a time of recent memory), the virtues that they embodied have also been lost, and the Buddha’s teaching has been destroyed. Noting that a remnant of the true dharma remains for those devoted to a life of seclusion, the author then begins an extended diatribe against the indolent monks who care only for worldly pleasures, making no attempt to maintain the discipline of the saṅgha. The poem ends on a somewhat more hopeful note as the ascetic remembers that, despite the sad state of the saṅgha, it is still possible to attain the undying state of nirvāṇa. He therefore does so, never to be reborn again.

  The poem below appears in the famous Pali work the Theragāthā (Verses of the Elders). It is a collection of 1,279 verses, collected in poems and attributed to 264 theras or senior monks, including many of the most famous disciples of the Buddha. Like some other Paliverse collections, it is organized by the length of the poem. Thus, all of the poems of one verse come first, followed by all those of two verses, etc. The title of the poem is the name of a monk, usually the monk to whom the verses are attributed. It is difficult to determine whether the words recorded were indeed spoken by these monks, but the evidence suggests that the Theragāthā is an early collection, composed and compiled during the three centuries after the death of the Buddha. The poem below is assigned to a monk named Pārāpariya. It is not a first-person narrative, like many works in the collection, but is presented instead as the reflections of an ascetic living in the forest. A narrator provides the first and last verses, setting the scene in the first, and informing the reader of the ascetic’s attainment of nirvāṇa in the last.

  A thought came to the ascetic in the great wood, when it was in flower, when he was seated, intent, secluded, meditating.

  The behaviour of the bhikkhus now seems different from when the protector of the world, the best of men, was alive.

  [There was] protection from the wind, a loincloth as covering for their modesty; they ate moderately, satisfied with whatever came their way.

  If it were rich food or dry, little or much, they ate it to keep alive, not being greedy, not clinging to it.

  They were not very eager for the necessities of life, for medicines and requisites, as they were for the annihilation of the āsavas.

  In the forest at the foot of trees, in caves and grottoes, devoting themselves to seclusion, they dwelt making their aim,

  devoted to lowly things, of frugal ways, gentle, with unstubborn minds, uncontaminated, not garrulous, intent upon thinking about their goal.

  Therefore their gait, eating and practices were pious; their deportment was smooth, like a stream of oil.

  Now those elders with āsavas completely annihilated, great meditators, great benefactors, are quenched. Now there are few such men.

  Because of the complete annihilation of good characteristics and wisdom, the conqueror’s teaching, endowed with all excellent qualities, is destroyed.

  This is the time of evil characteristics and defilements, but those who are ready for seclusion possess the remainder of the true doctrine.

  Those defilements, increasing, enter many people; they sport with fools, I think, as demons do with the mad.

  Those men, overcome by defilements, run here and there in the divisions of defilement, as if their own private battle [with Māra] has been proclaimed.

  Having abandoned the true doctrine they quarrel with one another; following after false views they think, ‘This is better.’

  Having cast aside wealth and sons and wife they go forth; they cultivate practices which are not to be done, even for the sake of spoon-alms.

  Having eaten their fill, they lie down, lying upon their back. When awake they tell stories that were condemned by the teacher.

  Thinking highly of all the artisan’s crafts they train themselves in them, not being calm inside. This is ‘the goal of the ascetic’s state’.

  They present clay, oil and powder, water, lodgings and food, to householders, desiring more [in return].

  Tooth-cleaner, and kapiṭṭha fruit, and flowers, and food to chew, palatable alms, and mangoes and myrobalans [they give].

  In medicines they are like doctors, in their various duties like householders, in adornment like courtesans, in authority like khattiyas [rulers].

  Cheats, frauds, false witnesses, unscrupulous, with many stratagems they enjoy the things of the flesh.

  Running after pretexts, arrangements, stratagems, aiming at a livelihood they accumulate much wealth by a device.

  They cause the assembly to meet for business purposes, not because of the doctrine; they preach the doctrine to others for gain, and not for the goal.

  Those who are outside the order quarrel about the order’s gain; being quite shameless they are not ashamed that they live on another’s gain.

  Not applying themselves, in this way, some with shaven heads and wearing the outer robe desire only reverence, being bemused by gain and honour.

  When various things have thus turned out, it is not now so easy either to attain the unattained or to keep safe what has been attained.

  As one might go shoeless in a thorny place, if he summoned up mindfulness, so should a sage go in a village.

  Remembering the former sages, recollecting their behaviour, even though it is the last hour, one may attain the undying state.

  Thus speaking in the sāl wood, the ascetic with developed faculties, the brahman, the seer, was quenched, with renewed existence annihilated.

  From The Elders’ Verses I: Theragāthā, trans. K. R. Norman, Pali Text Society Translation Series No. 38 (London: Luzac & Co
mpany Ltd, 1969), pp. 86–8.

  MEDITATION AND OTHER RITUALS

  37

  THE DIRECT PATH TO ENLIGHTENMENT

  Buddhist meditation classically is divided into two forms, which might be referred to as stabilizing meditation and analytical meditation. The former involves the development of deepening levels of mental concentration, while the latter involves the development of insight into the nature of reality. The precise relation of these two forms of meditation, and the value of one without the other has been the subject of extended debate throughout the history of Buddhism (see Chapter 39). In the Theravāda tradition, there is an extensive literature on the forty objects that one might choose to develop deep states of concentration, states which, if developed in this life, may result in rebirth in the heavens of the Form Realm or the Formless Realm in the next life. There are also extensive discussions of the nature of reality, often explained in terms of the three marks of existence: impermanence, suffering and no-self. And there is also a technique in which concentration and insight are developed together. This is set forth in one of the most famous texts in the Theravāda canon, the Foundations of Mindfulness (Satipaṭṭhāna Sutta), an excerpt from which appears here. This is one of the most widely commented upon texts in the Pali canon and is one which continues to hold a central place in the modern vipassana (vipaśyanā) movement. Only the briefest of comments can be provided here.

  In the text, the Buddha sets forth what he calls the ekayāna magga, translated here as ‘direct path’, but which might also be rendered as the ‘only path’ or the ‘one way’. The Buddha describes four objects of mindfulness. The first is the mindfulness of the body. The second is the mindfulness of feelings, which here refers to physical and mental experiences of pleasure, pain and neutrality. The third is the mindfulness of the mind, in which one observes the mind when influenced by different positive and negative emotions. The fourth is the mindfulness of dharmas, translated here as ‘mind-objects’, which involves the contemplation of several key categories, including the five aggregates (skandhas) and the four truths.

  The first of the four objects of mindfulness, the mindfulness of the body (translated in its entirety here), in fact involves fourteen exercises, beginning with the mindfulness of the inhalation and exhalation of the breath. Mindfulness (sati, a term that also means ‘memory’) is an undistracted watchfulness and attentiveness. Mindfulness of the breath is followed by mindfulness of the four physical postures of walking, standing, sitting and lying down. This is then extended to a full awareness of all activities. Thus, mindfulness is something that is meant to accompany all activities in the course of the day, and is not restricted to formal sessions of meditation. This is followed by mindfulness of the various components of the body, a rather unsavoury list that includes finger-nails, bile, spittle and urine. Next is the mindfulness of the body as composed of the four elements of earth (the solid), water (the liquid), fire (the warm) and air (the empty). This is followed by what are known as the ‘charnel ground contemplations’, mindfulness of the body in nine successive stages of decomposition.

  The practice of the mindfulness of the body is designed to induce the understanding that the body is a collection of impure elements that arise and cease in rapid succession, utterly lacking any kind of permanent self. This insight into the three marks of existence: impermanence, suffering and no-self, in turn leads to nirvāṇa; and as the Buddha states at the end of the sutta, the practice of the four foundations of mindfulness can lead to nirvāṇa very quickly.

  Thus have I heard. On one occasion the Blessed One was living in the Kuru country at a town of the Kurus named Kammāsadhamma. There he addressed the bhikkhus thus: ‘Bhikkhus.’ ‘Venerable sir,’ they replied. The Blessed One said this:

  ‘Bhikkhus, this is the direct path for the purification of being, for the surmounting of sorrow and lamentation, for the disappearance of pain and grief, for the attainment of the true way, for the realization of nibbāna – namely, the four foundations of mindfulness.

  ‘What are the four? Here, bhikkhus, a bhikkhu abides contemplating the body as a body, ardent, fully aware and mindful, having put away covetousness and grief for the world. He abides contemplating feelings as feelings, ardent, fully aware and mindful, having put away covetousness and grief for the world. He abides contemplating mind as mind, ardent, fully aware and mindful, having put away covetousness and grief for the world. He abides contemplating mind-objects as mind-objects, ardent, fully aware and mindful, having put away covetousness and grief for the world.

  ‘And how, bhikkhus, does a bhikkhu abide contemplating the body as a body? Here a bhikkhu, gone to the forest or to the root of a tree or to an empty hut, sits down; having folded his legs crosswise, set his body erect and established in mindfulness in front of him, ever mindful he breathes in, mindful he breathes out. Breathing in long, he understands: “I breathe in long”; or breathing out long, he understands: “I breathe out long”. Breathing in short, he understands: “I breathe in short”; or breathing out short, he understands: “I breathe out short”. He trains thus: “I shall breathe in experiencing the whole body [of breath]”; he trains thus: “I shall breathe out experiencing the whole body [of breath]”. He trains thus: “I shall breathe in tranquillizing the bodily formation”; he trains thus: “I shall breathe out tranquillizing the bodily formation”. Just as a skilled turner or his apprentice, when making a long turn, understands: “I make a long turn”; or, when making a short turn, understands: “I make a short turn”; so too, breathing in long, a bhikkhu understands: “I breathe in long”… he trains thus: “I shall breathe out tranquillizing the bodily formation.”

  ‘In this way he abides contemplating the body as a body internally, or he abides contemplating the body as a body externally, or he abides contemplating the body as a body both internally and externally. Or else he abides contemplating in the body its arising factors, or he abides contemplating in the body its vanishing factors, or he abides contemplating in the body both its arising and vanishing factors. Or else mindfulness that “there is a body” is simply established in him to the extent necessary for bare knowledge and mindfulness. And he abides independent, not clinging to anything in the world. That is how a bhikkhu abides contemplating the body as a body.

  ‘Again, bhikkhus, when walking, a bhikkhu understands: “I am walking”; when standing, he understands: “I am standing”; when sitting, he understands: “I am sitting”; when lying down, he understands: “I am lying down”; or he understands accordingly however his body is disposed.

  ‘In this way he abides contemplating the body as a body internally, externally, and both internally and externally… And he abides independent, not clinging to anything in the world. That too is how a bhikkhu abides contemplating the body as a body.

  ‘Again, bhikkhus, a bhikkhu is one who acts in full awareness when going forward and returning; who acts in full awareness when looking ahead and looking away; who acts in full awareness when flexing and extending his limbs; who acts in full awareness when wearing his robes and carrying his outer robe and bowl; who acts in full awareness when eating, drinking, consuming food and tasting; who acts in full awareness when defecating and urinating; who acts in full awareness when walking, standing, sitting, falling asleep, waking up, talking and keeping silent.

  ‘In this way he abides contemplating the body as a body internally, externally, both internally and externally… And he abides independent, not clinging to anything in the world. That too is how a bhikkhu abides contemplating the body as a body.

  ‘Again, bhikkhus, a bhikkhu reviews this same body up from the soles of the feet and down from the top of the hair, bounded by skin, as full of many kinds of impurity thus: “In this body there are head-hairs, body-hairs, nails, teeth, skin, flesh, sinews, bones, bone-marrow, kidneys, heart, liver, diaphragm, spleen, lungs, large intestines, small intestines, contents of the stomach, faeces, bile, phlegm, pus, blood, sweat, fat, tears, grease, spittle, snot, oil of th
e joints and urine.” Just as though there were a bag with an opening at both ends full of many sorts of grain, such as hill rice, red rice, beans, peas, millet and white rice, and a man with good eyes were to open it and review it thus: “This is hill rice, this is red rice, these are beans, this is millet, this is white rice”; so too, a bhikkhu reviews this same body… as full of many kinds of impurity thus: “In this body there are head-hairs… and urine.”

  ‘In this way he contemplates the body as a body internally, externally, and both internally and externally… And he abides independent, not clinging to anything in the world. That too is how a bhikkhu abides contemplating the body as a body.

  ‘Again, bhikkhus, a bhikkhu reviews this same body, however it is placed, however disposed, as consisting of elements thus: “In this body there are the earth element, the water element, the fire element and the air element.” Just as though a skilled butcher or his apprentice had killed a cow and was seated at the crossroads with it cut up into pieces; so too, a bhikkhu reviews this same body… as consisting of elements thus: “In this body there are the earth element, the water element, the fire element and the air element.”

  ‘In this way he abides contemplating the body as a body internally, externally, and both internally and externally… And he abides independent, not clinging to anything in the world. That too is how a bhikkhu abides contemplating the body as a body.