The Great Disciples Go Forth

Buddhacarita, Chapter Seventeen: The Great Disciples Go Forth

At that time King Bimbisāra bowed his head and asked the World-Honored One to settle in the Bamboo Grove; and the Buddha, out of compassion, accepted this offer in silence.

The king, having already beheld the ultimate truth, paid his reverent farewell and returned to his palace; and the World-Honored One, together with his great assembly, moved to settle at ease in the Bamboo Grove.

For the sake of delivering sentient beings, he raised up there the very lamp of wisdom, dwelling in the dwelling of Brahmā, the dwelling of the gods, and the dwelling of the sages and the wise alike.

At that time Aśvajit, his mind well-tamed and every one of his faculties mastered, went, when the proper hour arrived, to beg for alms, entering the city of Rājagṛha.

His countenance stood out among the people of the world, his dignified bearing calm and composed; and among the men and women of the city, there was none who saw him and did not rejoice — those walking would stop in their tracks, and those already ahead would hurry back like the wind to greet him.

Among the many disciples widely converted by the seer of the Kapila lineage was one foremost in learning, named Śāriputra.

Seeing this monk's own calm and dignified bearing, at ease and with every faculty stilled, he waited along the road for him to draw near, and, raising his hand in greeting, asked him: "Such youthful yet composed bearing as this, I have never before seen.

What excellent and wondrous Dharma have you attained? Under what tradition, and serving what teacher?

What does your teacher's instruction actually say? I beg you, tell me, and resolve this doubt of mine."

The monk, delighted at this question, answered him with a gentle countenance and humble words: "Complete in all-encompassing wisdom, born of the excellent sugarcane lineage, most honored among gods and men — this is my great teacher.

Yet I myself am still young in years, and my own days of study are still shallow — how could I possibly proclaim my great teacher's profound and subtle meaning in full?

Still, let me now, with what little wisdom I have, explain my teacher's instruction in brief.

Every conditioned dharma that arises does so entirely from causes and conditions; and when these very dharmas of arising and cessation are themselves brought to cessation, this is what my teacher calls the path, taught as the skillful means to that end."

Śāriputra, the twice-born, listened to this, and his heart melted open within him; far removed at once from every trace of defilement, the pure Dharma-eye arose in him.

He had, until then, held firmly to the view that things arise either from a fixed cause or from no cause at all, or that nothing at all is truly done, but that everything comes about entirely through the agency of Īśvara, the Sovereign God.

But now, hearing this Dharma of dependent arising, the wisdom of no-self opened clear within him — for even the very subtlest of the afflictions, once increased, could never truly be eradicated by any of those views at all.

Only the Tathāgata's own teaching brings them to a final and complete end, with nothing left over — for it is not by clinging to a self, or to what belongs to a self, that one is able to depart from "I" and "mine" at all.

Once the sun of clear causation has risen like a lamp, who could possibly cause its light to fail?

It is like cutting the stalk of a lotus flower — its finest threads still cling on, unbroken; but the Buddha's own teaching removes the afflictions the way one might sever solid stone, with nothing left over at all.

He bowed reverently at the monk's own feet, and took his leave to return home; and the monk, having finished begging for alms, likewise returned to the Bamboo Grove.

When Śāriputra returned home, his countenance was gentle and composed; and his close friend Mahāmaudgalyāyana, his equal in both understanding and talent, seeing Śāriputra's own face radiant with such joy from a distance, said to him: "Seeing you now, I notice something quite different about your appearance — your nature has always been deeply reserved, and yet you seem filled with joy today.

You must surely have attained the Dharma of immortality — such a mark as this could hardly arise without some real cause behind it."

Śāriputra answered: "The Tathāgata's own teaching — I have truly obtained a Dharma never known before."

Maudgalyāyana at once asked him to explain it, and, hearing it, his own heart opened and understood; every trace of his own defilement was likewise removed, and the true Dharma-eye arose in him as well.

Having long ago planted the wondrous causes for this very fruit, it was as clear to him now as gazing at a lamp held in his own palm; and, attaining an unshakable faith in the Buddha, the two of them set out together for where the Buddha was.

They came together with their own community of disciples, two hundred and fifty in number; and the Buddha, seeing these two worthy men approach from a distance, said to the whole assembly: "Those two who now approach shall be my foremost disciples — the first unequaled in wisdom, the second foremost in spiritual powers."

With a deep and pure, Brahmā-like voice, he called out to them at once, "Come, and welcome" — for here was found the very Dharma of true coolness and peace, the ultimate path for one gone forth from home.

Though they still held in their hands the triple staff of the wandering ascetic, their hair still coiled and their water-vessels still in hand, the moment they heard the Buddha's call of welcome, they were transformed at once into true śramaṇas.

Both teacher and their whole company of disciples became complete, all at once, in the full deportment of monks; they bowed their heads at the World-Honored One's own feet, and withdrew to sit to one side, and, receiving his teaching accordingly, every one of them attained the way of arhatship.

At that time there lived one of the twice-born, a shining lamp of the Kāśyapa clan — a man of wide learning, of complete and excellent bearing, of abundant wealth, and married to a most virtuous wife — who, weary of it all, renounced everything to go forth from home, his heart set on seeking the path of liberation.

On the road, by the shrine of Bahuputraka, he suddenly encountered Śākyamuni, his radiant bearing shining brilliantly, like a banner raised in offering to the gods.

Overcome with reverence, he prostrated his whole body, bowing his head to the very feet of the Buddha: "You are my great teacher, and I am your own disciple.

I have accumulated ignorance and darkness across ages beyond counting — I beg you now to be my very lamp of light."

The Buddha, knowing that this twice-born man's heart delighted in and honored liberation, called out to him in a pure and gentle voice, "Come, and welcome."

Hearing this call, his heart melted into ease and peace, and every weariness of body and spirit came to rest; his mind settled into the most excellent liberation, quiescent and free of every trace of defilement.

The Buddha, out of great compassion, explained the Dharma to him in brief, according to what was fitting, and he came to understand its profound teachings fully, attaining the four unobstructed forms of eloquence; and because his great virtue spread far and wide, he came to be called Mahākāśyapa, "Kāśyapa the Great."

Whatever view he had once held — that the body and the self are different, or that the self is identical with the body, holding to a self and to what belongs to a self — every such view was now permanently removed; he saw only the accumulation of suffering itself, and, once free of suffering, nothing at all remained beyond it.

Keeping the precepts and cultivating ascetic practice without mistaking it for the true cause of liberation, he saw the very nature of suffering with perfect equanimity, and no thought of gathering anything else to himself ever arose in him again.

Whether holding that something exists or that it does not, both such views give rise only to doubt and hesitation; but seeing the ultimate truth with perfect equanimity, he remained settled and certain, free of doubt forever after.

Attachment to wealth and beauty arises only from the intoxication of delusion and the craving of desire; but through the perception of impermanence and impurity, craving and attachment were, for him, permanently dispelled.

Through a heart of loving-kindness, holding all beings with perfect equanimity, making no distinction at all between enemy and kin, and extending compassion to every being alike, the poison of anger and hatred was thereby dissolved in him.

Every manner of confused and mixed perception arises through attachment to form and to whatever stands in relation to it; but through reflecting on the disintegration of form itself, he cut off craving for form entirely.

And even one reborn in the formless heavens must still see that very life come to its end in time; the foolish, mistaking the four formless absorptions themselves for liberation, remain trapped — but he, in quiescent stillness, free of every such perception, permanently removed even craving for the formless realms.

Restless and disordered movements of mind turn against themselves like waves whipped up by a wild wind; but entering deeply into firm and steady concentration, he stilled every such agitated and disordered state of mind.

Contemplating that all dharmas are without self and without anything belonging to a self, arising and ceasing without any true solidity at all, he no longer perceived any distinction of lesser, middling, or superior standing among beings, and the very thought of pride in himself was forgotten of its own accord.

With the blazing lamp of his own wisdom, he departed from every trace of ignorant darkness; seeing the exhaustible and the inexhaustible Dharma both clearly, ignorance itself was left with nothing remaining of it at all.

Reflecting on the ten virtues and extinguishing the ten kinds of affliction, he found rest and repose, what needed to be done now done, and looked up at the World-Honored One's own countenance with the deepest gratitude.

Departing from three things and attaining three others in their place, these three disciples each removed their own three faults — like three stars arrayed together in the sky, or like the thirty-three gods each attending their own retinue, arrayed in threes and fives — so, too, did these three attend upon the Buddha.