Reading guide
The teaching in one sentence
Among practitioners, what matters is not whether you have a blemish but whether you know — and the subtlest blemishes look exactly like the wishes any serious practitioner is tempted by.
The four-person framework
Sāriputta opens by laying out four kinds of person:
| # | Has a blemish? | Knows it? | Verdict |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | Yes | No | Worse |
| 2 | Yes | Yes | Better (of the two with a blemish) |
| 3 | No | No | Worse |
| 4 | No | Yes | Better (of the two without) |
The framework is counter-intuitive at first. We usually rate people by their condition, not by what they know about their condition. Sāriputta's verdict is the opposite: within each pair, knowing trumps not-knowing. The unblemished person who doesn't know they're unblemished — type 3 — is judged worse than the blemished person who knows they are — type 2. Mahāmoggallāna's question, naturally, is: why?
The bronze cup similes — why knowing matters
Sāriputta answers with four parallel similes, one for each type:
| Cup | Treatment | Outcome |
|---|---|---|
| Dirty | Kept in a dirty place, never cleaned | Gets dirtier |
| Dirty | Used and cleaned regularly | Gets cleaner |
| Clean | Kept in a dirty place, never used or cleaned | Gets dirty |
| Clean | Used and cleaned regularly | Stays bright |
The mechanism is direct. Knowing your blemish moves you to act on it — to "generate enthusiasm, make an effort, rouse up energy" to give it up. Not knowing leaves the blemish to grow, regardless of how light it began. Even a clean cup will get dirty in a dirty place if no one notices and tends to it. Type 3 — the unblemished person unaware of being unblemished — will dwell on attractive surfaces, "focus on the feature of beauty," and let lust enter the mind. Without awareness, even purity decays.
What "blemish" means
Mahāmoggallāna then asks the obvious follow-up: "What is 'blemish' a term for?" Sāriputta's answer is precise: "'Blemish' is a term for the spheres of bad, unskillful wishes." Not gross defilements like greed and hatred — those will be named later — but wishes. The blemish is the subtle preferring of self over not-self in any specific situation. It begins as a wish; if frustrated, becomes anger and bitterness; and that anger and bitterness, Sāriputta says, are the blemishes.
The ten bad wishes — the politics of a sangha
Sāriputta then lists ten specific wishes that arise in monastic life. Read them slowly:
- "I hope no one finds out if I commit an offense."
- "If they find out, I hope I'm accused in private, not in the middle of the Saṅgha."
- "If accused, I hope it's by a peer, not by someone who is not a peer."
- "I hope the Teacher questions me alone, not some other monk."
- "I hope I'm placed at the front when the monks enter the village for the meal."
- "I hope I get the best seat, the best drink, and the best almsfood in the refectory."
- "I hope it's me who gives the verses of appreciation after the meal."
- "I hope it's me who teaches the laity in the monastery."
- "I hope it's me whom the laypeople honor, respect, revere, and venerate."
- "I hope I get the nicest robes, almsfood, lodgings, and medicines."
For each, Sāriputta gives the structural completion: the wish goes unfulfilled, the monk gets angry and bitter, and that anger and that bitterness are blemishes. The list is uncomfortable because the wishes are so reasonable on their surface. None of them is gross sensual greed. Each is the kind of preference any person in a community will recognize having held — the wish to be the one chosen, recognized, asked, served.
The two great similes — what others see
Sāriputta closes the teaching with two contrasting images that frame how others perceive the blemished and the unblemished practitioner.
The carcass cup (§29). A bright bronze cup, brought clean from the smithy, but filled with the carcass of a snake, a dog, or a human and covered with a lid. Paraded through the market. People see the polished outside and say, "What is it you're carrying like a precious treasure?" The lid is lifted. Loathing, revulsion, disgust. Even the hungry will not eat from it.
This is the practitioner whose outer austerity (forest-dwelling, alms-going, rag-robes, shabby robes) is visible but whose unskillful wishes remain. The community sees through the polish. Their spiritual companions do not honor them — not because of any failure in the outward forms, but because the inner spoilage is detectable.
The fine-rice cup (§30). The same bright cup, now filled with carefully cleaned rice, soups, and sauces. Paraded through the market. The lid is lifted. Liking, attraction, relish. Even the replete want to eat from it.
This is the practitioner whose outer life may be ordinary (village-dwelling, accepting meal invitations, wearing householder-offered robes), but whose unskillful wishes are gone. Their spiritual companions honor them — not because of the outer marks, but because the inner cleanness is detectable.
Together the two similes do something subtle: they decouple visible austerity from actual purity. A community can be fooled momentarily by the surface; over time, it sees what is inside. The teaching is also a warning to any monastic tempted to use forms of asceticism as a stage prop — Sāriputta is naming the temptation directly.
Mahāmoggallāna's wheelwright simile
The discourse ends with an unexpected turn. Mahāmoggallāna says a simile has struck him, and Sāriputta invites him to share it. Mahāmoggallāna recalls watching a wheelwright named Samīti planing a chariot-wheel rim. A bystander, the ascetic Paṇḍuputta (himself a former wheelwright), silently thought, "I hope he planes out exactly the flaws I can see — the crooks, the bends, the imperfections in the core." And the wheelwright, working freely, planed them out precisely as the watcher had hoped. The bystander, amazed, exclaimed: "He planes like he knows my heart with his heart!"
Mahāmoggallāna applies the simile to Sāriputta: the faithless monastic who entered the order for material reasons is being planed by this very discourse. Sāriputta's teaching, like the wheelwright's hand, removes exactly the flaws a careful observer would have wanted removed. The discourse ends with Sāriputta and Mahāmoggallāna agreeing with each other's fine words — the only place in the Majjhima Nikāya where two senior disciples close a discourse in mutual appreciation.
A modern parallel
The ten wishes are not specific to monastics. Any professional community runs on a version of them: I hope I'm the one consulted on this case; I hope I'm asked to speak; I hope my work is noticed; I hope my office is the better one. The discourse's diagnostic power is that it names these wishes as wishes, not as ambitions or healthy professional pride. The mark of a blemish is not the content of the wish but its structure: I want this for me, and not for someone else. The remedy is not to suppress ambition but to recognize the structure when it arises — and to notice that frustration of these wishes is what hardens into anger and bitterness.
Three questions Western students often ask
"Isn't this list just naming healthy professional ambition? Aren't some of these wishes okay?" The discourse's framing is precise. The blemish is not the wish that any particular outcome happen, but the wish that it happen for me and not for someone else. A monastic who wishes the Dharma be taught well in this assembly does not have a blemish. A monastic who wishes they personally teach it, and is angered when another is chosen, does.
"Why is the unblemished person who doesn't know that they're unblemished judged worse than the blemished one who knows?" Because the unblemished-unaware person, lacking the discipline of self-examination, will drift into blemish. Sāriputta says they will "focus on the feature of beauty," and lust will enter the mind. Without ongoing awareness, the cup will get dirty in the dirty room — even a clean cup. Purity that is not held in awareness is purity that will not last.
"What does it mean that Mahāmoggallāna's simile is praised at the end? Isn't Sāriputta the teacher here?" The closing — "these two spiritual giants agreed with each others' fine words" — is a quiet structural statement about the maturity of the sangha. The two foremost disciples can teach side by side, each adding to the other's exposition, without rank or rivalry. MN 3 showed that the Dharma is not in the Buddha's voice alone. MN 5 shows that even among the senior disciples it is collaborative.
Key terms
The text
The four-person framework
§1So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta's Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika's monastery. There Sāriputta addressed the mendicants: "Reverends, mendicants!" "Reverend," they replied. Sāriputta said this:
§2"Reverends, these four individuals are found in the world. What four? One individual with a blemish doesn't truly understand: 'There is a blemish in me.' But another individual with a blemish does truly understand: 'There is a blemish in me.' One individual without a blemish doesn't truly understand: 'There is no blemish in me.' But another individual without a blemish does truly understand: 'There is no blemish in me.' In this case, of the two individuals with a blemish, the one who doesn't understand is said to be worse, while the one who does understand is better. And of the two individuals without a blemish, the one who doesn't understand is said to be worse, while the one who does understand is better."
§3When he said this, Venerable Mahāmoggallāna said to him: "What is the cause, Reverend Sāriputta, what is the reason why, of the two individuals with a blemish, one is said to be worse and one better? And what is the cause, what is the reason why, of the two individuals without a blemish, one is said to be worse and one better?"
The four bronze-cup similes
§4"Reverends, take the case of the individual who has a blemish and does not understand it. You can expect that they won't generate enthusiasm, make an effort, or rouse up energy to give up that blemish. And they will die with greed, hate, and delusion, blemished, with a corrupted mind. Suppose a bronze cup was brought from a shop or smithy covered with dirt or stains. And the owners neither used it or had it cleaned, but kept it in a dirty place. Over time, wouldn't that bronze cup get even dirtier and more stained?" "Yes, reverend." "In the same way, take the case of the individual who has a blemish and does not understand it. You can expect that … they will die with a corrupted mind.
§5Take the case of the individual who has a blemish and does understand it. You can expect that they will generate enthusiasm, make an effort, and rouse up energy to give up that blemish. And they will die without greed, hate, and delusion, unblemished, with an uncorrupted mind. Suppose a bronze cup was brought from a shop or smithy covered with dirt or stains. But the owners used it and had it cleaned, and didn't keep it in a dirty place. Over time, wouldn't that bronze cup get cleaner and brighter?" "Yes, reverend." "In the same way, take the case of the individual who has a blemish and does understand it. You can expect that … they will die with an uncorrupted mind.
§6Take the case of the individual who doesn't have a blemish but does not understand it. You can expect that they will focus on the feature of beauty, and because of that, lust will infect their mind. And they will die with greed, hate, and delusion, blemished, with a corrupted mind. Suppose a bronze cup was brought from a shop or smithy clean and bright. And the owners neither used it or had it cleaned, but kept it in a dirty place. Over time, wouldn't that bronze cup get dirtier and more stained?" "Yes, reverend." "In the same way, take the case of the individual who has no blemish and does not understand it. You can expect that … they will die with a corrupted mind.
§7Take the case of the individual who doesn't have a blemish and does understand it. You can expect that they won't focus on the feature of beauty, and because of that, lust won't infect their mind. And they will die without greed, hate, and delusion, unblemished, with an uncorrupted mind. Suppose a bronze cup was brought from a shop or smithy clean and bright. And the owners used it and had it cleaned, and didn't keep it in a dirty place. Over time, wouldn't that bronze cup get cleaner and brighter?" "Yes, reverend." "In the same way, take the case of the individual who doesn't have a blemish and does understand it. You can expect that … they will die with an uncorrupted mind.
§8This is the cause, this is the reason why, of the two individuals with a blemish, one is said to be worse and one better. And this is the cause, this is the reason why, of the two individuals without a blemish, one is said to be worse and one better."
What "blemish" means
§9"Reverend, the word 'blemish' is spoken of. But what is 'blemish' a term for?" "Reverend, 'blemish' is a term for the spheres of bad, unskillful wishes.
§10It's possible that some mendicant might wish: 'If I commit an offense, I hope the mendicants don't find out!' But it's possible that the mendicants do find out that that mendicant has committed an offense. Thinking, 'The mendicants have found out about my offense,' they get angry and bitter. And that anger and that bitterness are both blemishes.
§11It's possible that some mendicant might wish: 'If I commit an offense, I hope the mendicants accuse me in private, not in the middle of the Saṅgha.' But it's possible that the mendicants do accuse that mendicant in the middle of the Saṅgha …
§12It's possible that some mendicant might wish: 'If I commit an offense, I hope I'm accused by a peer, not by someone who is not a peer.' But it's possible that someone who is not a peer accuses that mendicant …
§13It's possible that some mendicant might wish: 'Oh, I hope the Teacher will teach the mendicants by repeatedly questioning me alone, not some other mendicant.' But it's possible that the Teacher will teach the mendicants by repeatedly questioning some other mendicant …
§14It's possible that some mendicant might wish: 'Oh, I hope the mendicants will enter the village for the meal putting me at the very front, not some other mendicant.' But it's possible that the mendicants will enter the village for the meal putting some other mendicant at the very front …
§15It's possible that some mendicant might wish: 'Oh, I hope that I alone get the best seat, the best drink, and the best almsfood in the refectory, not some other mendicant.' But it's possible that some other mendicant gets the best seat, the best drink, and the best almsfood in the refectory …
§16It's possible that some mendicant might wish: 'I hope that I alone give the verses of appreciation after eating in the refectory, not some other mendicant.' But it's possible that some other mendicant gives the verses of appreciation after eating in the refectory …
§17It's possible that some mendicant might wish: 'Oh, I hope that I might teach the Dhamma to the monks, nuns, laymen, and laywomen in the monastery, not some other mendicant.'
§21It's possible that some mendicant might wish: 'Oh, I hope that the monks, nuns, laymen, and laywomen will honor, respect, revere, and venerate me alone, not some other mendicant.'
§25It's possible that some mendicant might wish: 'I hope I get the nicest robes, almsfood, lodgings, and medicines and supplies for the sick, not some other mendicant.' But it's possible that some other mendicant gets the nicest robes, almsfood, lodgings, and medicines and supplies for the sick …
§§26–27Thinking, 'Some other mendicant has got the nicest robes, almsfood, lodgings, and medicines and supplies for the sick', they get angry and bitter. And that anger and that bitterness are both blemishes.
§28'Blemish' is a term for these spheres of bad, unskillful wishes.
What others see — the carcass cup and the fine-rice cup
§29Suppose these spheres of bad, unskillful wishes are seen and heard to be not given up by a mendicant. Even though they dwell in the wilderness, in remote lodgings, eat only almsfood, wander indiscriminately for almsfood, wear rag robes, and wear shabby robes, their spiritual companions don't honor, respect, revere, and venerate them. Why is that? It's because these spheres of bad, unskillful wishes are seen and heard to be not given up by that venerable. Suppose a bronze cup was brought from a shop or smithy clean and bright. The owners were to prepare it with the carcass of a snake, a dog, or a human, cover it with a bronze lid, and parade it through the market-place. When people saw it they'd say: 'Oh my, what is it that you're carrying like a precious treasure?' So they'd open up the lid for people to look inside. But as soon as they saw it they were filled with loathing, revulsion, and disgust. Not even those who were hungry wanted to eat it, let alone those who were replete. In the same way, when these spheres of bad, unskillful wishes are seen and heard to be not given up by a mendicant … their spiritual companions don't honor, respect, revere, and venerate them. Why is that? It's because these spheres of bad, unskillful wishes are seen and heard to be not given up by that venerable.
§30Suppose these spheres of bad, unskillful wishes are seen and heard to be given up by a mendicant. Even though they dwell within a village, accept invitations to a meal, and wear robes offered by householders, their spiritual companions honor, respect, revere, and venerate them. Why is that? It's because these spheres of bad, unskillful wishes are seen and heard to be given up by that venerable. Suppose a bronze cup was brought from a shop or smithy clean and bright. The owners were to prepare it with boiled fine rice with the dark grains picked out and served with many soups and sauces, cover it with a bronze lid, and parade it through the market-place. When people saw it they'd say: 'Oh my, what is it that you're carrying like a precious treasure?' So they'd open up the lid for people to look inside. And as soon as they saw it they were filled with liking, attraction, and relish. Even those who were replete wanted to eat it, let alone those who were hungry. In the same way, when these spheres of bad, unskillful wishes are seen and heard to be given up by a mendicant … their spiritual companions honor, respect, revere, and venerate them. Why is that? It's because these spheres of bad, unskillful wishes are seen and heard to be given up by that venerable."
Mahāmoggallāna's wheelwright simile
§31When he said this, Venerable Mahāmoggallāna said to him, "Reverend Sāriputta, a simile strikes me." "Then speak as you feel inspired," said Sāriputta. "Reverend, this one time I was staying right here in Rājagaha, the Mountainfold. Then I robed up in the morning and, taking my bowl and robe, entered Rājagaha for alms. Now at that time Samīti of the wainwrights was planing the rim of a chariot wheel. The Ājīvaka ascetic Paṇḍuputta, who was formerly of the wainwrights, was standing by, and this thought came to his mind: 'Oh, I hope Samīti the wainwright planes out the crooks, bends, and flaws in this rim. Then the rim will be rid of crooks, bends, and flaws, pure, and consolidated in the core.' And Samīti planed out the flaws in the rim just as Paṇḍuputta thought. Then Paṇḍuputta expressed his gladness: 'He planes like he knows my heart with his heart!'
§32In the same way, there are those faithless individuals who went forth from the lay life to homelessness not out of faith but to earn a livelihood. They're devious, deceitful, and sneaky. They're restless, insolent, fickle, scurrilous, and loose-tongued. They do not guard their sense doors or eat in moderation, and they are not dedicated to wakefulness. They don't care about the ascetic life, and don't keenly respect the training. They're indulgent and slack, leaders in backsliding, neglecting seclusion, lazy, and lacking energy. They're unmindful, lacking situational awareness and immersion, with straying minds, witless and idiotic. Venerable Sāriputta planes their faults with this exposition of the teaching as if he knows my heart with his heart! But there are those gentlemen who went forth from the lay life to homelessness out of faith. They're not devious, deceitful, and sneaky. They're not restless, insolent, fickle, scurrilous, and loose-tongued. They guard their sense doors and eat in moderation, and they are dedicated to wakefulness. They care about the ascetic life, and keenly respect the training. They're not indulgent or slack, nor are they leaders in backsliding, neglecting seclusion. They're energetic and determined. They're mindful, with situational awareness, immersion, and unified minds; wise and clever. Hearing this exposition of the teaching from Venerable Sāriputta, they drink it up and devour it, as it were. And in speech and thought they say: 'It's good, sirs, that he draws his spiritual companions away from the unskillful and establishes them in the skillful.'
§33Suppose there was a woman or man who was young, youthful, and fond of adornments, and had bathed their head. Presented with a garland of lotuses, jasmine, or liana flowers, they would take them in both hands and place them on the crown of the head. In the same way, those gentlemen who went forth from the lay life to homelessness out of faith … say: 'It's good, sirs, that he draws his spiritual companions away from the unskillful and establishes them in the skillful.'"
And so these two spiritual giants agreed with each others' fine words.
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