The Distribution of the Relics (II)

"Let me now share with you as well what is truly in my own heart, speaking with the same sincerity — you and they ought not to remain opposed to one another; reason itself demands that you come together in reconciliation instead.

While the World-Honored One lived in this world, he taught always the way of patient forbearance — how, then, could failing to follow this very teaching of his ever be called honoring him at all?

Ordinary people of this world contend over the five desires, over wealth and profit, over fields and houses — but if you truly act for the sake of the true Dharma, you ought instead to follow its own sacred principles; to bind yourselves in enmity for the sake of the Dharma runs directly against reason itself.

The Buddha was himself quiescent and compassionate, forever wishing to bring peace to all beings — how, then, could honoring this very compassion give rise instead to such great harm?

You ought instead to divide the relics equally, so that all might be able to make offering to them — this alone accords with the Dharma, and your own renown will spread accordingly; its righteousness will be understood, and its reasoning will speak for itself.

And should there be any conduct here that runs contrary to the Dharma, it ought to be reconciled through the Dharma itself — for this alone is what it truly means to delight in the Dharma, and to let the Dharma endure long in the world.

The Buddha himself taught that, of every form of giving, the giving of the Dharma is the most excellent of all — for while people readily practice the giving of wealth, the giving of the Dharma is a far harder thing to practice."

The Malla people, hearing this, felt shame rise within them, and looked at one another; then they answered the brahmin: "We are deeply moved by the reason for your coming, your warm and sincere words in accordance with the Dharma, your reconciling and elegantly reasoned counsel — this is exactly what befits a true brahmin, acting in accordance with his own virtue.

You have skillfully reconciled both sides, and shown us the very essence of the true path — like a lost horse brought back, at last, onto the right road.

We shall now act in accordance with this reconciling counsel, following exactly what you have proposed — for to disregard such sincere and truthful words would surely bring us nothing but regret hereafter."

They then opened the Buddha's own relics, and divided them equally into eight portions — keeping one portion for their own offering, and entrusting the other seven to the brahmin for distribution.

The seven kings received their own shares of the relics, receiving them with joy and bowing their heads in reverence, and carried them back to their own kingdoms, where they raised stupas and made further offerings to them.

The brahmin, having requested and received from the Malla people the very vessel that had measured out the relics, and having further requested from the seven kings an eighth portion for himself, carried it back and raised his own shrine, called the Stupa of the Golden Vessel.

The people of Kuśinagara, meanwhile, gathered up the remaining ash and cinders, and raised a shrine of their own, called the Stupa of the Ashes and Cinders.

In this way, eight kings raised eight stupas, together with the Stupa of the Golden Vessel and the Stupa of the Ashes and Cinders — and so it was that, throughout Jambudvīpa, ten stupas were raised for the very first time.

The men and women of every kingdom, carrying jeweled canopies of flowers, made offerings at these stupas, adorning them until they shone like mountains of gold, with every kind of music sounding, and praises sung on, day and night without end.

At that time, the five hundred arahants, having lost forever the shade and shelter of their great teacher, felt lost and had nothing left to rely upon, and returned to Vulture Peak.

Gathering together at Indra's own cave there, they undertook to compile the scriptures into a fixed collection; and all of them together urged the elder Ānanda, saying: "You have heard everything the Tathāgata ever taught, from beginning to end, both great and small in detail — you, Vaidehī-putra, ought now to recite it all for the whole assembly."

Ānanda, ascending the lion's seat before the whole assembly, recited it exactly as the Buddha himself had spoken it, declaring at the start of each: "Thus have I heard."

The whole assembly wept together at this, moved by the very sound of "thus have I heard," recited exactly as the Dharma itself required, in its proper time, its proper place, and by the proper person.

Following his recitation, it was set down in writing, and thus was the collection of the scriptures at last completed; and those who applied themselves diligently, through skillful effort, to studying it have all already attained nirvāṇa, are attaining it now, or will attain it in the future — for nirvāṇa remains exactly the same regardless.

In time, King Aśoka arose in the world — one who could bring sorrow to the powerful and yet remove sorrow from the humble, like the very aśoka tree, whose name means "sorrowless."

This king, ruling over Jambudvīpa, held a heart forever free of sorrow himself, holding deep faith in the true Dharma — and it was for this reason that he was called "the Sorrowless King."

A descendant of the Maurya lineage, born already possessed of a righteous nature, he brought aid to the whole world, and, among his many deeds, raised stupas and shrines everywhere — originally named "Aśoka the Fierce," he came to be known instead as "Aśoka of the Dharma."

He opened the seven kings' own stupas to retrieve the relics within them, and, distributing them anew, raised in a single day eighty-four thousand stupas throughout the land.

Only the eighth stupa, in the village of the Mallas, guarded by a spirit-dragon, could not be opened, and the king was unable to obtain its relics.

Yet though he could not obtain these particular relics, knowing that the Buddha's own remains were there, protected and honored by a spirit-dragon, his own faith and reverence only grew the deeper for it.

Though this king ruled over his own kingdom, he had already attained the first of the noble fruits himself, and was able to cause the whole world, in every direction, to make offering at the Tathāgata's own stupas — so that beings of the past, the future, and the present alike all attained liberation through it.

Whether the Tathāgata still lived in the world, or had already entered nirvāṇa leaving only his relics behind, those who paid him reverent homage and made offering to him received an equal measure of merit in either case.

And for those of clear wisdom and a mind set on what is highest, who examine deeply the Tathāgata's own virtues, cherishing the path itself as they make their offerings, the merit gained is greater still.

The Buddha attained the most honored and excellent Dharma, and is fit to receive every kind of offering; having reached the place beyond death itself, those with faith in him find their own peace as well — and it is for this reason that every god and every human being ought forever to make offering to him.

Foremost in great compassion, penetrating the ultimate truth entirely, delivering every sentient being — who could hear of this and remain unmoved?

Of all the suffering in this world, none surpasses the suffering of birth, old age, sickness, and death; and of all these, the suffering of death is the greatest, feared even by the gods themselves.

He who has forever departed from both these kinds of suffering — how could one possibly fail to make offering to him?

To receive no further existence is itself the highest bliss this world can know; while the suffering of further birth is itself the greatest suffering this world can know, beyond all comparison — and the Buddha attained freedom from the suffering of birth, and the very bliss of receiving no further existence, and showed this openly and fully to the whole world — how, then, could one possibly fail to make offering to him?

I have praised this most honored of sages, and all that he did, from beginning to end — not to display any knowledge or insight of my own, nor to seek any fame or gain for myself, but only in accordance with what the Buddha's own scriptures themselves teach, that I might, through this, bring benefit to all the world.