Buddha and Saṃsāra

In the Buddhist tradition the notion of saṃsāra or more literally “to flow together” is the notion that all beings go through an infinite series of births and deaths.

Those who believe in rebirth will usually point to passages in the Pali Canon which show the Buddha promulgating the notion of saṃsāra. They use such passages to buttress their position that not only did the Buddha did believe in rebirth but made it a central feature of his teachings.

In the Samyutta Nikaya there is a whole chapter titled “Without Discoverable Beginning” (Anamataggasamyutta) that addresses the nature of saṃsāra.

The first sutta in the chapter, Grass and Sticks sutta, begins with a description of the beginningless nature of saṃsāra (translation by Bhikkhu Bodhi):

Bhikkhus, this saṃsāra is without discoverable beginning. A first point is not discerned of beings roaming and wandering on (saṃsarataṃ) hindered by ignorance and fettered by craving. Suppose, bhikkhus, a man would cut up whatever grass, sticks, branches, and foliage there are in Jambudipa and collect them together in a single heap. Having done so, he would put them down, saying [for each one]: “This is my mother, this my mother’s mother." The sequence of that man’s mothers and grandmothers would not come to an end, yet the grass, wood, branches, and foliage in this Jambudipa would be used up and exhausted. For what reason? Because, bhikkhus, this saṃsāra is without discoverable beginning.

Of interest in this passage is that the Buddha is describing saṃsāra through the chain of one’s ancestors. There is no mention of rebirth at all, and the key idea expressed is the unimaginable amount of time human beings have been born and suffered over countless generations.

What is odd about this entire passages is the description of saṃsāra not through successive lives but through successive generations. But if the Buddha did firmly believe in rebirth and this was indeed a central teaching, why did he not discuss former lives?

The sutta goes on and concludes:

For such a long time, bhikkhus, you have experienced suffering, anguish, and disaster, and swelled the cemetery. It is enough to experience revulsion towards all formations, enough to become dispassionate towards them, enough to be liberated from them.

So even though in the preceding passage there was no mention of rebirth, this one does appear to do so. The Buddha is clearly telling the monks that they have suffered for a long time and “swelled the cemetery.”

With this concluding passage to the sutta, it does appear that this is a good example to support the thesis that the Buddha did believe in rebirth. But are we missing something?

If we examine the key concluding sentence of the last passage in Pali, we have this:

evaṃ dīgharattaṃ vo, bhikkhave, dukkhaṃ paccanubhūtaṃ tibbaṃ paccanubhūtaṃ byasanaṃ paccanubhūtaṃ, kaṭasī vaḍḍhitā

Now when we compare this stock passage to the fourth sutta of the same chapter, Ganges Sutta, we find this sentence again but with one crucial difference that changes everything:

evaṃ dīgharattaṃ kho, brāhmaṇa, dukkhaṃ paccanubhūtaṃ tibbaṃ paccanubhūtaṃ byasanaṃ paccanubhūtaṃ, kaṭasī vaḍḍhitā

It may be a little difficult to spot but there are two differences here. The first difference is simply the substitution of the vocative plural bhikkave (“O, bhikkus”) with the vocative brāhmaṇa (O, Brahmin). The second crucial difference is the third word vo in the first and kho in the second.

This seems very minor but it is not.

The word vo is an enclitic plural pronoun of you (tumha), which can be in the accusative, instrumental, dative or even genitive which can mean: of you; by you; to you. In the translation above, it is translated more like the in the nominative case (subject of the sentence) by just saying “you”.

Kho, is a different word altogether that according to the Pali Text Dictionary is “an enclitic particle of affirmation & emphasis: indeed, really, surely.” In the context of the sutta which is describing very long periods of time, the use of such a particle of emphasis makes perfect sense.

The second passage with kho is translated by the Pali Text Society as (Bhikkhu Bodhi skips translating this part and refers to the first sutta in the chapter):

Thus many a day, Brahmin, has ill been suffered, has pain been suffered, has disaster been suffered, has the charnel ground been growing.

While the Pali Text Society’s translation does not really do justice in conveying the kho particle (“for a very long time” is better), it is sufficient to see how all of a sudden the passage has no hint of rebirth; there is simply the observation that suffering and ill have been suffered by many over long periods of time.

Now if we take this second stock passage with kho and use it in the first sutta, things make more logical sense. Now we have a second passage without rebirth following the initial passage which does not mention it at all.

This observation leads me to contend that the Grass and Sticks sutta originally did have kho as still preserved in Ganges Sutta rather than the grammatically odd vo.

Most likely when literal rebirth became more prominent chanting monks mistakenly changed the very similar sounding word kho into vo.

If I am correct, what we may have here is the Buddha’s actual notion of saṃsāra. Instead of saṃsāra consisting of never-ending cycle of rebirths of an individual over innumerable lifetimes, saṃsāra is instead the never-ending cycle of successive generations of family units over time.

The idea of successive generations is a much more personal one that has a lot more emotional weight. Many of us can recall our mother and father, and most our grandparents and some even our great-grand parents. We can recall how they went through life and eventually died without having really found peace which was no different than their parents and their parent’s parents and so on.

And the really poignant point is that here we are as a living embodiment of that entire family line where we can choose to go ahead to either carry on the trend or deciding to break it.

Instead of a metaphysical description of the cycles of rebirth, the Grass and Sticks sutta is in fact a very down to earth admonition for us to escape what all those before us could not do.

Jhanas Solved? Part V

In part IV, I related that the essential theme of jhānas is the gradual relinquishment or letting go. The whole purpose of the jhānas is to let go so deeply that the mind reaches a state that is more ready and receptive of gaining a transformational insight.

The final stock passage following the four jhānas describes this receptive state of mind:

[T]he mind was thus concentrated, purified, bright, unblemished, rid of defilement, pliant, malleable, steady, & attained to imperturbability.

The idea of a “concentrated” mind being in a state that is “malleable” and thus capable of achieving insight is expressed by the Buddha in the simile of purifying gold:

Just as if a goldsmith or goldsmith's apprentice were to set up a smelter. Having set up the smelter, he would fire the receptacle. Having fired the receptacle, he would take hold of some gold with his tongs and place it in the receptacle. Periodically he would blow on it, periodically sprinkle it with water, periodically examine it closely. If he were solely to blow on it, it is possible that the gold would burn up. If he were solely to sprinkle it with water, it is possible that the gold would grow cold. If he were solely to examine it closely, it is possible that the gold would not come to full perfection. But when he periodically blows on it, periodically sprinkles it with water, periodically examines it closely, the gold becomes pliant, malleable, & luminous. It is not brittle, and is ready to be worked.

This simile compares the concentrated meditator who purifies his mind to a gold smith that purifies gold. Like a gold smith removes all the impurities of the gold, the medidator does so likewise by removing or burning away all mental obstacles or defilements. Once this purification has occurred, the gold like the meditator’s mind becomes “malleable” and “pliant”, the consequence of which it is “ready to be worked.”

The notion of the mind “ready to be worked” indicates a mind that is more under control and more easily used in the sense of easier to cognize without distractions or distortions.

It is important to point out that there is no indication in these passages that the mind is in a suppressed or non-functioning state. As pointed out, the notion of the mind being workable suggests that there the mind is actually in a better functioning state than it normally is and thus actually more receptive and alert to mental activity. This is borne out by the fact that the fourth jhāna description, which directly precedes the the passage of a concentrated mind, describes the mind in a state of “purity of equanimity & mindfulness.”

Given what has been said so far, what is the insight that is usually portrayed in the Pali Canon on reaching such a state? While there are many passages and the details differ, the common theme through all of them is an insight into impermanence.

One such example is in the Anguttara Nikaya where the Buddha addresses one of his chief disciples Moggallāna on various techniques on how to obtain a concentrated mind. At the end of the sutta the Buddha relates (A IV 84-85, translation by Sarah Shaw):

[H]e knows each [mental] state, knowing each state he understands each state. Understanding each state, whatever the feeling he is experiencing, whether pleasant, painful or neither, he abides with regard to those feelings observing impermanence, observing dispassion, observing cessation. When, with regard to those feelings, he abides observing impermanence, abides observing dispassion, abides observing cessation, seeing them a something to be renounced, he does not adhere to anything in the world. Without attaching to things, he does not crave them and without craving he attains, for himself, nibbāna.

As this passage indicates, the attainment of nibbāna, is achieved through an insight that is gained through mindful observation of the experience of one’s current mental states. By gaining an experiential realization of the impermanence of all of one’s mental states this leads to “dispassion” to such states, which in turn leads to the “cessation” of the states which leaves one without craving and thus attains nibbāna.

What is important to emphasize is that the experience of nibbāna is the result of an optimally functioning mind that is observing, judging and capable of eliciting conclusions. The mindfulness or observations that take place is not some abstract state without any objects, but is a state that takes the raw experiential data as objects.

While it is difficult to explicitly describe the actual content of the liberating insight, it appears from this passage that the individual comes to the conclusion that no matter what one experiences it will always pass and thus it is a futile task to crave for those states to be any different than they are or imbue them with anything other than the present experience presents itself.

From the realization of seeing such states as impersonal, inevitable, fleeting processes, there is no longer any incentive to try hold on to them or give undue credence or emphasis. This “dispassion” for such states ultimately involves a letting go of craving which always seeks to permanently change things to one’s bidding. This letting go is thus the end of craving and the subsequent experience of nibbāna.

References

Shaw, Sarah 2006. Buddhist Meditation: An anthology of texts from the Pali Canon. New York, Routledge.

Jhanas Solved? Part IV

In part III, the second jhāna was described as an ecstatic experience of quelled thoughts with a movement of the mind into oneness.

In this part, the third and fourth jhānas will be discussed and analyzed within the context of the jhānas as a whole. From this discussion, I will argue that the jhānas are facets of one meditative process rather than a sequence of distinct stages and the purpose of the jhānas is a succesive activity of relinquishment.

In the Maha-Saccaka Sutta, the Buddha describes the third jhāna:

With the fading of rapture I remained equanimous, mindful, & alert, and sensed pleasure with the body. I entered & remained in the third jhana.

In the third jhāna, the “rapture” experienced in the second jhāna fades and in its place is a frame of mind that is “equanimous, mindful (sato) & alert (sampajano)” with pleasure still remaining.

The Buddha goes on to describe the fourth jhāna:

But the pleasant feeling that arose in this way did not invade my mind or remain. With the abandoning of pleasure & pain . . . I entered & remained in the fourth jhana: purity of equanimity & mindfulness, neither pleasure nor pain.

Here in the final fourth jhāna, pleasure (sukha) is now abandoned and we are left with mindfulness and equanimity (upekkha-sati) as in the third jhāna but now purified (parisuddhim) in relation to the third.

Having expounded the stock passages of the third and fourth jhāna it is essential at this point to look at these specific jhānas alongside the first two jhānas within the context of the Maha-Saccaka Sutta. In the sutta the Buddha is talking to a Jain ascetic about the severe acetic strivings he performed that left him almost dead from starvation without being any closer to enlightenment.

The Buddha relates in this sutta that the turning point came in his quest for awakening when he recalled having a blissful experience as a boy relaxing under a Rose Apple tree. This remembrance sparked the insight that the relentless striving and pushing of the body and mind to the extreme was not the way, but rather an opposite type activity was required; an activity characterized by relinquishment, pleasure and relaxation.

And this is the essence of the jhanas: an activity that allows for relinquishment to take place in a successive manner.

The first jhāna begins with the relinquishment of external disturbances or “seclusion” which leads to a blissful feeling. The second jhāna continues with the relinquishment of internal disturbances in terms of thoughts and evaluations resulting in an ultimate absorption in ecstasy. The third jhāna continues with the relinquishment or “fading” of this ecstasy or “rapture” with only pleasure remaining. And even this pleasure relinquished or “abandon[ed]” in the final fourth jhāna.

From this perspective, we can now see more clearly that the jhānas are a single successive process of letting go rather than independent, compartmentalized stages which scholastic numbering provides the illusion for.

Also from this perspective we can a better idea of what the third and fourth jhānas consist of which is simply the relinquishment of the qualities gained by the first two jhāna with the exception of the new development of mindfulness (sati) and equanimity (upekkha) which will be explored later.

In conclusion, the Buddha is telling the Jain ascetic in Maha-Saccaka Sutta that the path to enlightenment is not by controlling and dominating the body to one’s will, but it is rather the relinquishment of all striving that respects the body and welcomes blameless inner pleasure.

But what exactly was it that after the Buddha reached the fourth jhāna that led him to enlightenment? Well, that is in the next post.

Jhanas Solved? Part III

In part II, I discussed the first jhāna and the argued that it was unlikely that the Buddha as a young boy experienced the first jhāna as described in the stock passage in the Pali Canon. While it is quite possible that the young Gautama did experience a happy state by withdrawing from the frivolities around him, it is dubious he did so by meditating cross-legged and entering some absorbed state as the text implicitly conveys.

Moving on to explicating the second jhāna, we fortunately find more textual information to draw upon.

In the Maha-Saccaka Sutta, the Buddha describes the second jhāna:

With the stilling of directed thoughts & evaluations, I entered & remained in the second jhāna: rapture & pleasure born of concentration, unification of awareness free from directed thought & evaluation — internal assurance.

Of interest in this passage is the continuation of pleasure and rapture from the first jhāna but with the explicit absence of “thought & evaluation” and the new key element of “unification of awareness” (cetaso ekodi-bhavam).

But what is this “unification of awareness”? Looking at the Pali derivation of ekodi-bhavam, the word ekodi is composed of eka, meaning one or single, and udi, meaning arising or movement. Thus ekodi can be understood as movement to oneness or singleness. With the accusative of bhava, bhavam, which means “being” and the genitive singular ceta or mind, we can understand the phrase cetaso ekodi-bhavam as a mind of moving into a state of oneness.

Given this new understanding, we can tentatively describe the second jhāna as a meditative experience of bliss characterized by a lack of thought and a unification of the mind into a state oneness.

While this description appears to be fairly detailed, it is still, however, rather abstract and begs some further questions as what exactly is this “rapture & pleasure” and what does this “movement of mind into oneness” really describing?

One way to help remove this ambiguity is to examine the testimony of those who have avowedly experienced such states. Being unable, of course, to be able to verify such private, personal experiences, we should take them with a degree of skepticism but not to the point of refusing to lend the descriptions any credence when there is a strong semblance between the descriptions and the key Pali passages.

In Ajahn Brahmavamso’s book, aptly titled The Jhānas, we are provided a detailed description of what the experience of jhāna is like:

When the breath disappears and delight fills the mind, the nimitta usually appears. Nimitta, in the context used here, refers to the beautiful "lights" that appear in the mind. . . .

ENTERING JHANA

When the nimitta is radiant and stable, then its energy builds up moment by moment. . . . If one can maintain the one-pointedness here by keeping one's focus on the very center of the nimitta, the power will reach a critical level. One will feel as if the knower is being drawn into the nimitta, that one is falling into the most glorious bliss. Alternatively, one may feel that the nimitta approaches until it envelops the knower, swallowing one up in cosmic ecstasy. One is entering Jhana. . . .

NO THOUGHT, NO DECISION-MAKING, NO PERCEPTION OF TIME

From the moment of entering a Jhana, one will have no control. One will be unable to give orders as one normally does.

Of interest in these snippets is the mentioning of “falling into” and “envelop[ing] the knower” which seems quite similar to the translation I offered of cetaso ekodi-bhavam as moving into a state of oneness.

Another similarity is the mentioning "NO THOUGHT" and "NO DESCISION-MAKING" which is clearly similar to the “stilling of directed thoughts” as described in the stock passage of the second jhāna.

While we have these two concrete similarities with the stock passage, we encounter the quite obvious difference of the nimitta or “lights” as mentioned by Brahmavamso. As indicated in the section of his book quoted above, the nimitta is described as acting as a gateway or launching point into jhāna.

If this passage is to be interpreted as being congruent with the early Pali passages, it is important to find corresponding Pali passages that also mention this light or nimitta as acting as a threshold for entering jhāna.

In the Upakkilesa Sutta the sutta begins with Anuruddha expressing difficulty in obtaining jhāna (translation by Bhikkhu Bodhi):

‘Venerable sir, as we abide here diligent, ardent, and resolute, we perceive both light and a vision of forms. Soon afterwards the light and the vision of forms disappear, but we have not discovered the cause for that.’

Note Anuruddha here experiences light (obhāsa) and vision of forms (dassanam ruanam) which is quite similar to the qualities of the nimitta that Ajahn Brahmavamso describes as "beautiful 'lights'."

But is this a nimmita? In the next passage the Buddha confirms that these lights are indeed a nimmita when he replies to Anuruddha by saying, “Nimittam pativvijjhitabbam”, which can literally be translated as Bhikkhu Bodhi notes, “You should penetrate that sign.” While this has often been translated as “understanding” that sign, if we take the more literal interpretation of “penetrating” the sign then it appears we have another similarity with Ajahn Brahmvamaso’s description of “being drawn into the nimitta” or “envelop[ing] the knower” and also the element in the stock passage cetaso ekodi-bhavam that I translate as moving into a state of oneness.

These similarities are suggestive that Ajahn Brahmvamaso could be accurately describing the state of jhāna as expounded in the Pali texts. If this is indeed the case, it behooves us to examine his descriptions of the other elements of jhāna.

Of course, one of the most important elements of jhāna is this “rapture & pleasure” which Ajahn Brahmavamso describes as a feeling of “cosmic ecstasy” or “great bliss.” If this is indeed the case, then this “rapture & pleasure” appears to be of a stronger nature than the “rapture & pleasure” in the first jhāna, which from my discussion in part II, is more of a gentle, relaxing nature.

From this discussion, it can be summarized that the second jhāna is a meditative experience of ecstasy where thoughts come to a conclusion and the mind is absorbed into a light.

Having elucidated the second jhāna, what about the third and fourth jhānas?

That is for part IV.

Jhanas Solved? Part II

In part I, I ventured my thesis that the jhānas have been traditionally misunderstood as discreet meditative processes rather than one meditative process with multiple stages. I also presented the idea that there is in actual fact just three jhānas or three aspects of one process rather than four distinct jhānas as traditionally regarded.

My main argument for this interpretation is located in the Maha-Saccaka Sutta which has been identified by scholars as containing some very ancient biographical passages of the Buddha.

In the sutta, the Buddha describes his difficulty in obtaining enlightenment to a Jain ascetic. The Buddha tells the Jain that after realizing the futility of his ascetic practices of starving his body, he recalls a time as a young child:

'I recall once, when my father the Sakyan was working, and I was sitting in the cool shade of a rose-apple tree, then — quite secluded from sensuality, secluded from unskillful mental qualities — I entered & remained in the first jhana: rapture & pleasure born from seclusion, accompanied by directed thought & evaluation.

In this passage the Buddha relates his experience of a young boy obtaining the first jhāna. The key to this passage is the description of the young-boy-Buddha experiencing such a pleasurable state by being “quite secluded from sensuality.” Instead of finding pleasure by engaging in the many distractions and activities that would have interested a boy of that age, the young Buddha-to-be finds pleasure by being secluded from them.

It is important to note that this passage does not convey at all the notion that the young Buddha-to-be entered into a type of concentrated mental absorption that shut out the world. On the contrary, the passage conveys a feeling of effortless relaxation and relinquishment that does not hint of the idea of losing all contact of the world.

While it may sound like the first jhāna is not a super special state that even a young boy could experience, traditionally the first jhāna has been seen as something only a practiced meditation virtuoso can obtain and appears to have some support from the suttas for it (Upakkilesa Sutta).

If the traditional interpretation is correct, then how can we explain the fact that the young Buddha experienced such a meditative state without obviously any meditative experience?

This conundrum indicates that there is something possibly wrong with the text or least the interpretation of it. Examining more closely the passage of the Buddha experiencing the first jhāna as a young boy, we find some things that do raise some doubts as to the entire passage’s authenticity.

The first thing to notice about the passage is the inclusion of the stock description, “I entered & remained in the first jhāna: rapture & pleasure born from seclusion, accompanied by directed thought & evaluation.” It seems somewhat surprising that the Buddha would clearly recall experiencing “directed thought and evaluation” during such a pleasurable state as indicated in the stock description of the first jhāna. Usually with highly charged pleasurable experiences one only remembers the pleasurable aspects of it and not other things like “directed thought and evaluation” which seems rather periphery and just too technical.

Another thing that is a little suspicious about the boy Buddha-to-be obtaining the first jhāna, is that it almost presupposes that he was sitting cross-legged in a firm meditative posture as is mentioned in many passages connected with the stock jhāna formulas. But this seems a little farfetched as he is just a young boy who most likely never formally meditated before in his life and had no motivation to do so. The young boy Buddha most likely sat under the rose apple tree not to meditate as a yogi but to rest and relax from the activities around him.

What also suggests to me that the stock first jhāna passage was not originally a part of the passage in question is a subtle shift in meaning when this stock passage is removed:

I recall once, when my father the Sakyan was working, and I was sitting in the cool shade of a rose-apple tree, then — quite secluded from sensuality, secluded from unskillful mental qualities — I [experienced] pleasure born from seclusion. 'Could that be the path to Awakening?'

Then following on that memory came the realization: 'That is the path to Awakening.' I thought: 'So why am I afraid of that pleasure that has nothing to do with sensuality, nothing to do with unskillful mental qualities?'

By dropping the stock formula and substituting “rapture & pleasure” with pleasure (which agrees better with later sentence of being “afraid of pleasure”) a different emphasis occurs. Instead of emphasizing the attainment of a meditative state, the emphasis shifts to a recollection of the types of qualities perceived to be necessary to reach enlightenment. This I contend is what prompted the Buddha to engage in a practice that would cultivate such qualities of gentle relaxation and mental withdrawal. And that practice was, of course, meditation or jhāna.

The Buddha thus went ahead and began to cultivate those states that offered an experience of joy which turned out to be the first jhāna.

It is likely that the pleasurable feeling in the first jhāna was something quite similar to the relaxing, blissful feeling of disengaging the senses the Buddha as a young boy experienced, but arrived at through the formalized skill of meditation.

If this is the case, then the element of “directed thought & evaluation” in the stock jhāna passage is possibly describing the skill of a meditator who is gauging the level of absorption and the level of activity of the mind.

And all this “evaluation” is used to know and direct the mind to the great bliss of what is now known as the second jhāna which will be the subject of part III.

Jhanas Solved? Part I

The Pali word jhāna is often encountered in the suttas within the context of the four jhānas or mental techniques the Buddha used as a vehicle for awakening.

The word jhāna has been frequently translated in English as “absorption” which connotes a technical mental technique that is extremely focused.

The word jhāna is based on the Sanskrit word dhyana that contains the root dhi meaning to “reflect, conceive and ponder over”. Surprisingly, this definition appears closer to the English word “meditation” than the traditional idea of "absorption".

Interestingly, there are instances in the the Pali Canon that support the idea of jhāna as a general form of meditation. There are multiple passages in the canon where the Buddha says, “jhayatha bhikkhave” (here), which translates much more intelligibly as “monks, meditate” instead of “monks, attain absorption.”

Even so, the overwhelming occurrence of the word jhāna in the suttas is used in a more technical sense of a specific form of meditation. The almost exclusivity of jhāna in the technical sense is somewhat of an illusion. Due to a small set of stock passages related to the four jhānas being repeated throughout the Pali Canon, the reader is left with the impression that jhāna has primarily a technical meaning that is often associated with absorption.

Not surprisingly, the Buddhist tradition has focused a lot of attention on the technical meaning of jhāna: its characteristics, how it is attained, the benefit and so on.

Historically, the attainment of jhānas has become increasingly difficult to obtain as time has passed since the Buddha’s death. Today, most of the Theravada orthodoxy proclaims that the attainment of the first jhāna, let alone other higher jhānas, can only be gained with difficulty by experienced meditators.

Whatever is the truth of the difficulty of obtaining jhānas, the Buddhist tradition, for the most part, has universally agreed that the jhānas are a series of discreet mental processes that progress in order from a lower jhāna to a higher one.

This assumption seems a very reasonable one given the fact that the jhānas are number from one to four and are always described in the same order. However, as I will try to show, this numbering may have been simply a helpful memorization device rather than a means of communicating four quite distinct processes.

I will argue in the following posts by examining key suttas of the Pali Canon and contemporary descriptions of personal experiences of jhāna that what is labeled as the four jhānas is actually a description of one meditative process that has four different stages.

Dog Duty Ascetic and Rebirth -- Part II

In part I, I looked at the Kukkuravatika Sutta, or the Dog Duty Ascetic sutta, to see if it did the support the argument that the Buddha believed in literal rebirth.

By examining the context of the sutta, I pointed out that the Buddha was most likely using skillful means to communicate with the two ascetics by telling them that if they continued to mimic animal behavior they would be born as that animal and not as a god.

His use of skillful means is further illustrated in the later part of the sutta when he gives a short discourse on the four types of kammas after being begged by one of the tearful ascetics who has just come to the realization of the utter uselessness of their animal acts.

The Buddha first elaborates dark kamma which is then followed by bright kamma:

Here someone produces a (kammic) bodily process not (bound up) with affliction, he produces a (kammic) verbal process not (bound up) with affliction, he produces a (kammic) mental process not (bound up) with affliction. By doing so, he reappears in a world without affliction. When that happens, unafflicting contacts touch him. Being touched by these, he feels unafflicting feelings entirely pleasant as in the case of the Subhakinha, the gods of Refulgent Glory.

The Buddha explains that the result of bright kamma is the arising (upapajjati) in an unafflictive “world” (loka) where one experiences, “unafflicting feelings entirely pleasant as in the case of the Subhakinha, the gods of Refulgent Glory.” This is Vedic language. The phrase about arising in a “world” is a Vedic term, which besides denoting a metaphorical space, also has a psychological meaning. In the final sentence of the passage, the Buddha invokes the Vedic folk god Subhakinha.

What is interesting is that the Buddha does not say that one will become that god through such actions, but only that one can experience such feelings worthy of that god.

The Buddha here is essentially telling the ascetics how to obtain their original goal of companionship with god but in a different way. The Buddha is saying that one who is able to experience the same state that a god would experience is to effectively be that god; to enter the state of being of that god is to be it.

By the Buddha giving a psychological dimension to a metaphysical belief system, the Buddha opens up a new perspective and hope for the distraught men. The one ascetic is weeping because he is convinced by the Buddha that he has wasted enormous time in his beastly practices. By offering them a way they can taste their original goal by experiencing it in this life, he turns their despair into happiness by pointing them on a more productive path.

Conclusion

The further elucidation of this sutta should help convince those that claim this sutta clearly shows the Buddha’s belief in rebirth is not the only interpretation. Like in many of the suttas in the Pali Canon, the Buddha uses skillful means to communicate with the various different peoples he meets. This is just one more interesting example of this trend where the Buddha takes on his interlocutor’s language and view point in order to lead them to a different understanding of the world.

Dog Duty Ascetic and Rebirth -- Part I

Many who argue that the Buddha believed in literal rebirth often refer to the interesting Kukkuravatika Sutta, or the Dog Duty Ascetic sutta, to support their claim.

Even a casual glance of the sutta does appear to lend support to their position that the Buddha not only taught but believed in rebirth. The sutta in question relates the Buddha in conversation with two rather bizarre characters, one of which acts like a bull and the other a dog. The two men ask the Buddha what is the result of acting like such animals and the Buddha reluctantly tells them they will both either enter the “animal womb” or niraya (hell).

If we take the sutta at face value it appears to be straight forward with no real room to interpret it in another fashion. However, before making too hasty a conclusion let us try to better understand the context of the sutta by examining these two characters and at least attempt to understand the motivation behind their actions which may bring some insight as to why the Buddha responded as he did.

Doing some research into the ancient Indian texts that were known during the Buddha’s time presents us with evidence that such behavior was indeed present and even sanctioned by the influential and widespread Vedic religious thought. One particular example can be found in the Jaiminiya Brahmana 2.113 and the Taittiriya-Brahmana 2.7.6 which describes such actions as behaving as a bull and even committing incest with one’s own mother as part of the Gosava rite or “vow of the bull.” The Taittiriya-Brahmana explains that such a rite should be consummated if one wants to obtain svarajya or the power of sovereignty or independent dominion (Narayan Jha, 46). It appears that there was belief that by imitating a bull or some other animal one could somehow gain and transfer its power from the animal realm to the human one. This type of primitive belief is very reminiscent of shamanistic beliefs systems shared in many small scale societies.

Why specifically the bull was one of the animals chosen to imitate is not altogether clear, but it is interesting to note that in the Vedas the bull is seen as self-ruling and powerful and often associated with one of the most powerful of the ruling gods: Brahma (Kr Singh, 245).

Another possible reason for such behavior is these ascetics are belaboring under the commonly held ascetic view of the time that by engaging in severe hardships one would later experience pleasant existences due to the equalizing force in the universe. The basic idea of suffering now so as to experience happiness later permeated much of ascetic thought during the Buddha’s time (Gombrich, 37).

In the sutta, the two ascetics never announce their motivation directly, but the Buddha does when he explains to them the result of their practices:

Here, Seniya, someone develops the ox duty fully and unstintingly, he develops the ox habit fully and unstintingly, he develops the ox mind fully and unstintingly, he develops the ox behavior fully and unstintingly. Having done that, on the dissolution of the body, after death, he reappears in the company of oxen. But if his view is such as this: 'By this virtue or duty or asceticism or religious like I shall become a (great) god or some (lesser) god,' that is wrong view in his case.

The Buddha replies in the exact same fashion for the dog ascetic, and we are left to believe that the two characters acted in such a manner in order to arise in a heavenly world as a god or some other higher being.

Maybe the ox performer believed he would become a powerful god like Brahma and the dog ascetic as Sarama -- a high level heavenly dog of Vedic mythology.

Regardless of the exact reasons, both men seem to believe that if they keep with their present course of action they will achieve a better existence as framed within the folds of Vedic belief system.

Now of crucial interest is how the Buddha responds to the question as to what is their final path (abhisamparāya). The Buddha replies that they will either appear in the company or in the companionship (sahavyatā) with the animal imitated or a downward-path (niraya). The fact that the Buddha uses the word companionship, or sahavyatā, is important.

In the Upanishads the ultimate soteriological goal is the union or companionship with Brahma. By the Buddha mentioning companionship with dogs or oxen seems to me to almost poking fun.

The important thing to understand is that the Buddha is using Vedic language to communicate in terms the ascetics are familiar and immersed in. By the Buddha telling the two men that at best they will end up in an oxen or doggy world, he is not just teasing them but pointing out the damage of such beliefs within the fold of the Buddha’s idea of kamma.

By indicating they will end up with animals if they act animals; he is telling them that the results of actions are commensurate with the action itself; by acting like a dog, you becomes a dog and not a god. I also think the Buddha is effectively denying the ascetic belief that by suffering now bliss will be followed later. He is instead saying the opposite is true: by inflicting hardships now will only lead to hardships later.

Understandably the two ascetics are incredibly distraught with the Buddha’s answer and the ox ascetic bursts into tears. In between his weeping, he asks the Buddha a better way to act so he can abandon his ox laden ways.

The Buddha’s answer is very interesting and is the subject of Part II.

References

Gombrich, Richard F. 1996. How Buddhism Began: The Conditioned Genesis of the Early Teachings. London, Althlone Press.

Kr Singh, Nagendra. 1997. Vedic Mythology. New Delhi, A.P.H Publishing Corporation.

Narayan Jha, Dwijendra. 2002. The Myth of the Holy Cow. New Delhi, Verso.

Tull, Herman W. 1989. The Vedic Origins of Karma. Albany, State University of New York Press.

Tathāgata Substituted for Self -- Part III

In part 2 , I provided convincing evidence that the Tathāgata pericope (the Tathāgata exists after death, does not exist after death, both does & does not exist after death) originally had the word “self” instead of the word Tathāgata which the suttas currently contain.

At the end of the essay I raised the important questions of why the systemizers changed it the pericope in the first place and why they chose to replace the word “self” explicitly with Tathāgata.

While any such answers may indeed be speculation, I do believe there are motifs in some of the suttas which hint at a reasonable explanation.

In the Bhikkhu Sutta, the Buddha declares, “Monk, whatever one stays obsessed with, that's what one is measured by.” The Buddha goes on in the sutta to elaborate the meaning of this statement by saying:

If one doesn't stay obsessed with form, monk, that's not what one is measured by. Whatever one isn't measured by, that's not how one is classified.

If one doesn't stay obsessed with feeling...

If one doesn't stay obsessed with perception...

If one doesn't stay obsessed with fabrications...

If one doesn't stay obsessed with consciousness, that's not what one is measured by.

Whatever one isn't measured by, that's not how one is classified.

In this very profound sutta the Buddha declares that we can only measure or classify “what one is” when we obsess over the five aggregates (form, feeling, perception, fabrications and consciousness) or elements of our experience and provide it with a conceptual identify we label as “me”.

Conversely, when we do not obsess or crave over the five aggregates of experience, we no longer participate in the creation of a notion of a being and thus there is no longer anything to measure or classify against.

This for the Buddha is what it means to become enlightened and make an end of suffering. It is important to understand that the Buddha is referring to going beyond the classification of a notion of me and not a particular attribute attributed to an enlightened being.

However, this has traditionally been interpreted in such a sense, contributing to one important piece of doctrinal misunderstanding that helps explain why “self” was changed to Tathāgata.

Another sutta which relates the same notion of the illusion of being is in the Aggi-Vacchagotta Sutta where the wanderer Vacchagotta asks a series of metaphysical questions that the Buddha refuses to answer. In exasperation, Vacchagotta asks the Buddha whether he has, “any position at all?"

The Buddha answers by saying, "A 'position,' Vaccha, is something that a Tathagata has done away with. I say, a Tathagata — with the ending, fading out, cessation, renunciation, & relinquishment of all construings, all excogitations, all I-making & mine-making & obsession with conceit — is, through lack of clinging/sustenance, released."

Vacchagotta persists by asking, “But, Master Gotama, the monk whose mind is thus released: Where does he reappear?"

The Buddha replies that any notion of reappearing, appearing, appearing and not reappearing and so on do not apply. At this point Vacchagotta exclaims he is “confused” and has “no clarity.” The Buddha councils him and tells him it is not surprising he is confused given that such an understanding is “subtle, to-be-experienced by the wise.”

The Buddha then questions Vacchagotta on what happens to a fire that runs out of fuel:

And suppose someone were to ask you, Vaccha, 'This fire burning in front of you, dependent on what is it burning?' Thus asked, how would you reply?

...I would reply, 'This fire burning in front of me is burning dependent on grass & timber as its sustenance.'

If the fire burning in front of you were to go out, would you know that, 'This fire burning in front of me has gone out'?

...yes...

And suppose someone were to ask you, 'This fire that has gone out in front of you, in which direction from here has it gone? East? West? North? Or south?' Thus asked, how would you reply?

That doesn't apply, Master Gotama. Any fire burning dependent on a sustenance of grass and timber, being unnourished — from having consumed that sustenance and not being offered any other — is classified simply as 'out' (unbound).

Even so, Vaccha, any physical form by which one describing the Tathagata would describe him: That the Tathagata has abandoned, its root destroyed, made like a palmyra stump, deprived of the conditions of development, not destined for future arising. Freed from the classification of form, Vaccha, the Tathagata is deep, boundless, hard to fathom, like the sea. 'Reappears' doesn't apply. 'Does not reappear' doesn't apply. 'Both does & does not reappear' doesn't apply. 'Neither reappears nor does not reappear' doesn't apply.

The Buddha repeats the last passage for the rest of aggregates (feeling, perceptions, fabrications and consciousness) the sutta ends with Vacchagotta becoming a convert.

The key part of the sutta is the fire simile where the sustenance of a fire is metaphorically associated with the five aggregates. The fire is dependent on grass and timber just like the notion of a being, being dependent on the five aggregates. When the fire goes out due to lack of sustenance, like the notion of being going out due to the experience of the aggregates being abandoned, it is no longer meaningful to ask where the fire has gone in the way as it is to ask where the notion of being has gone.

This is expressing in essence what the first sutta did but in a different manner. Both indicate that something can only persist dependent on the input of something else; and this something else can be relinquished. But most importantly the main point is the same: there is no classification or measurement of something that can no longer be experienced.

And this is the key because when there is no fire or no obsession over being, there is no longer the experience of suffering.

Unfortunately, this particular sutta has been understood too literally to indicate two things: there is no rebirth for an enlightened being as there is no substrate left for it to occur and the status of an enlightened being after death is unknown. To interpret the text in this fashion is to ascribe the Buddha with a position which goes clearly against what the Buddha said earlier as having “no position.” The point is that whether there is rebirth, no rebirth, known or unknown status is not the question for such questions do not apply. As such questions no longer make sense, there is no position that can be taken even if one wanted to. This is the reason the Buddha stated he has no position.

The crux of the traditional misunderstanding centers on seeing the notion of being as an actual existing entity rather than a psychological projection. Understanding the text from a psychological perspective is clearly indicated by the Buddha who describes an enlightened being earlier in the sutta as one who has relinquished the psychological process of, "all I-making & mine making."

To be fair, to read the text from an ontological perspective is not helped by the fact that the Buddha meets Vacchagota half way when he persists in trying to explicitly get an answer to a question of the ontological status of a being after death. Through his skillful means, the Buddha takes on Vacchagota's ontological thinking and goes ahead and posits a thing, in this case a fire, in order to make the point that such questions of continuation do not make sense.

Having examined two suttas we now have two fairly clear motifs of the traditional misunderstanding derived from them: the indescribability of an enlightened being and the unknown status of an enlightened being after death.

Keeping these two motifs in mind, we can now gain a glimpse as to why “self” was substituted with Tathāgata.

The systemizers were most likely puzzled when they discovered in the suttas the Buddha refusing to directly answer whether the self exists or does not exist after death. At this point in history, the idea of karma and rebirth was firmly established and they saw no reason why the Buddha did not reply by saying the self in a way does exist after death by the means of rebirth.

For the compilers, the Buddha’s refusal to answer whether the self exists after death only made sense for enlightened beings and not for beings in general that the “self” in the pericope seemed to indicate. In their minds, when the Buddha refused to declare the status of the self after death, the Buddha must have understood this question as referring to enlightened beings as this is the only reason they could see for the Buddha’s silence. As enlightened beings were seen as being “unfathomable” and beyond any notions after death, it made sense for the Buddha to remain silent for the question could not be answered.

Thinking that they were clarifying the true meaning, they thus changed the pericope to refer to the Tathāgata instead of the self.

Tathāgata Substituted for Self? -- Part II

In Part I, I argued that there was something suspicious about the stock phrase or periscope that asks these various questions on the state of a Tathāgata after death.

As I pointed out, the Tathāgata after death pericope or stock passage is found throughout the Pali Canon suggesting this was a hot topic of debate amongst the many spiritual seekers of the day. Yet, when we look at the famous Brahmajala Sutta attributed with capturing all the speculative views of the time, we do not find a view questioning the state of a Tathāgata after death. It seems amazing that the religious seekers of the day were only concerned on the issue of life after death for a specialized being rather than beings in general. These observations led me to postulate that the Tathāgata pericope originally mentioned the self and not a Tathāgata.

If my supposition that the “self” was substituted with Tathāgata is true, can we find such evidence in the suttas?

One sutta that appears to lend credence to my supposition is the Sariputta-Kotthita Sutta. The sutta begins with the the young Sariputta asking the venerable Kothita on the status of the Tathāgata after death. Kothita replies that the “Blessed one has not declared” the status of the Tathāgata after death. Sariputta then aks, “what is the cause, what is the reason, why that has not been declared by the Blessed One?" Kotthita responds by enumerating over each of the four aggregates (form, feeling, perception, fabrications and consciousness) using the same refrain in each aggregate finally ending with consciousness:

For one who loves consciousness, who is fond of consciousness, who cherishes consciousness, who does not know or see, as it actually is present, the cessation of consciousness, there occurs the thought, 'The Tathagata exists after death' or 'The Tathagata does not exist after death' or 'The Tathagata both exists and does not exist after death' or 'The Tathagata neither exists nor does not exist after death.'

It seems hard to believe, which this passage seems to suggest, is that a person who “loves consciousness” (or any of the aggregates mentioned prior) would naturally obsess on the state of an enlightened being after death. An argument can be made that almost everyone in the world loves any of the aggregates (body, feelings, consciousness and so on) yet the vast majority of the people do not dwell on the questions of the afterlife of an enlightened being. For many, the very concept of an enlightened being does not even exist!

However, if Tathāgata is substituted with “self” then the passage makes perfect sense. A person who loves the aggregates, which gives the impression of a being existing over time, will naturally entertain such questions of the afterlife. It is only when we have personal notions of me or mine does the question of the continuation of the that very me or the self become a concern.

Throughout human history in all cultures ancient to modern, the question of life after death has always being raised. It is a question fundamental to human existence. As such, it seems far more probable that a person would naturally question the continuation of the “self” rather than a special rarified being.

This sutta is by all means not an isolated case where the word “self” seems to fit better than Tathāgata. In the Anguttara Nikaya, we find the Avyakata Sutta offering a similar example. In this sutta, a monk asks the Buddha why an Arahant or enlightened one does not possess any uncertainty over various “undeclared issues.” The Buddha responds by saying:

Because of the cessation of views, monk, uncertainty doesn't arise in an instructed disciple of the noble ones over the undeclared issues. The view-standpoint, 'The Tathagata exists after death,' the view-standpoint, 'The Tathagata doesn't exist after death,' the view-standpoint, 'The Tathagata both does and doesn't exist after death,' the view-standpoint, 'The Tathagata neither does nor doesn't exist after death'

The Buddha continues to say that the average person suffers namely because he still harbors such views:

For him that view grows. He is not freed from birth, aging, & death; from sorrows, lamentations, pains, distresses, and despairs. He is not freed, I tell you, from suffering & stress.

So according to the Buddha, a normal person suffers due to “that view [which] grows” which is, of course, the view of the Tathāgata after death. If we take this seriously, then it appears the reason for suffering in the world is because everyone dwells on the view of the state of an enlightened being after death. Obviously this is plainly ridiculous.

If the Tathāgata is replaced with the “self” then the passage becomes a lot more intelligible. People suffer because of a tendency in human beings to personalize events a person experiences; they form views that center on the assumption that the events somehow were directed at or happen to a projection of the me or I.

Interestingly, the commentaries noted that the Tathāgata should be understood as “satto” or a general being. Obviously, they also saw difficulties with the use of Tathāgata.

My final example comes from the Anuradha Sutta. The sutta begins with a group of religious wanders questioning the Buddhist monk Anuradho on how the Tathāgata describes another enlightened being:

Friend Anuradha, the Tathagata — the supreme man, the superlative man, attainer of the superlative attainment — being described, is described with [one of] these four positions: The Tathagata exists after death, does not exist after death, both does & does not exist after death, neither exists nor does not exist after death.

Oddly instead of these religious wanders enquiring on the theme of life after death of a general being, they seem concerned about an enlightened being only.

It is of interest to note in Bhikkhu Bodhi’s faithful translation of this same sutta, he translates instead of "the Tathagata . . . being described" as “Tathagata describes a Tathagata.” This rather cumbersome grammatically correct translation is an immediate flag that maybe the text has been touched.

The sutta continues with Anuradha incorrectly answering the wanderers who leav him and he goes to the Buddha to ask what he should have said. After admonishing the monk the Buddha begins questioning Anuradha, in a now familiar fashion, on whether he sees the five attributes (form, feeling, perception, fabrications and consciousness) as self. Anuradha replies in the negative in each case, and the Buddha continues:

"And is that which is inconstant easeful or stressful?"

"Stressful, lord."

"And is it proper to regard what is inconstant, stressful, subject to change as: 'This is mine. This is my self. This is what I am'?"

"No, lord."

"What do you think, Anuradha: Do you regard form as the Tathagata?"

"No, lord."

"Do you regard feeling as the Tathagata?"

"No, lord."

"Do you regard perception as the Tathagata?"

"No, lord."

"Do you regard fabrications as the Tathagata?"

"No, lord."

"Do you regard consciousness as the Tathagata?"

"No, lord."

Strangely enough, right after asking the question whether it is, “proper to regard . . . This is my self,” the Buddha immediately questions Anuradha not on the “self” but on a Tathāgata. It is fairly obvious here that the Tathāgata does not fit the context of the passage and it most likely contained the "self" instead of the Tathāgata.

It is important to note that in many different suttas where the aggregates are discussed usually a comparison is made with the self or anatta or not-self. The famous Pañcavaggi Sutta is just one example where the Buddha exhorts his listeners to see form, feeling, perception, thought-fabrications and consciousness as anatta or not-self.

As with the Avyakata Sutta the commentaries of the Anuradha Sutta again suggest “being” or satta for the Tathāgata (see the note to Maurice Walsh’s translation of this sutta).

There are more examples which provide further evidence, but for now I will leave these examples aside as some more important questions arise. If we can accept that the periscope did get changed, why did it occur and if restored to its original state how does it change the usual traditional meaning? This I hope to answer in part III.

Tathāgata Substituted for Self? Part I

The Buddha is portrayed in the Pali Canon as eschewing metaphysical discussions. One such metaphysical question the Buddha refused to answer was the question on the state of a tathāgata after death. The following stock phrase or pericope is used in many suttas:

Does the Tathāgata exist after death?
Does the Tathāgata not exist after death?
Does the Tathāgata both exist and not exist after death?
Does the Tathāgata a neither exist nor not exist after death?

The word tathāgata is an epithet for the Buddha. Its most common usage is by the Buddha who uses the word to refer to himself in third person. Its exact meaning has been debated by scholars, but there is general agreement that the word is used to designate an enlightened or awakened being.

Curiously, there is no evidence to suggest that the word tathāgata was wildly used by non-Buddhist groups during the Buddha’s time. The word tathāgata is hardly found at all in the non-Buddhist Indian literature, and in the few places in the Jain sutras where it is used to explicitly refer to an enlightened being, the Prakrit word tahāgaya is used instead which may not even originate from the same etymological root.

Another interesting fact is that none of the speculative views concerning the tathāgata after death is mentioning among the 62 wrong views in the Brahmajāla Sutta. These 62 wrong views are portrayed in the sutta as being an exhaustive categorization of all speculative views during the Buddha’s time.

To be fair, there is one instance of the tathāgata after death pericope in the Brahmajāla Sutta, but the usage is not tallied as one of the 62 wrong views but instead is used in an off-hand way to illustrative how the eel-wigglers respond to such metaphysical questions. In the Chinese version of the Brahmajāla Sutta the pericope is not present at all.

While there is no doubt that the Brahmajāla Sutta has been formulized and obtained various accretions, the antiquity of the sutta is well attested by the fact of it being mentioned in the first Buddhist council and being separately translated into Chinese prior to the creation of the Chinese Dirgha Agama. It being placed first in the Pali Canon is further testament to its high reputation among the early Buddhists (Pande 81).

While the Brahmajāla Sutta does not mention as one of its wrong views the tathāgata’s state after death, it does, however, enumerate a total of 24 different views on the subject of life after death (16 for some sort of continuation after death with 8 views denying any continuation). This high number (around a quarter) of views in regards to the question of life after death indicates that this was an important and often discussed religious issue in the Buddha’s time.

This is not really surprising given that all the religious traditions in the world have at some point debated such questions and India was no exception in this regard.

But if the issue of life after death was such a hot issue of debate during the Buddha’s day, why do we find the stock passage of what happens to an enlightened being after death instead of what happens to an individual (regardless of spiritual attainment) after death like the views expressed in the Brahmajāla Sutta?

It just seems incredulous that all the religious seekers of the day were only concerned about a subset of a select few beings (enlightened ones) rather than the general set of human beings.

One possible solution to these difficulties is that the suttas originally did contain passages on life after death of a being in general but was systematically changed later to an enlightened being.

At first glance this may seem a rather remote and dubious proposition, but I will show in following essays that there is strong evidence that this indeed occur.

References

Pande, Govind Chandra. Fourth Revised Edition, 1995. Studies in the Origins of Buddhism. (Delhi, Motilal Banarsidass : 2006).

Intrusive Interpolations in the Potthapada Sutta -- Part II

In part 1, I argued that there were interpolations made to the Potthapada Sutta as the result of systemization. In this second part, I will continue to build upon my argument by demonstrating that the concluding sections of the sutta exhibit the same problems of interpolations which result in obscuring the main purport of the text.

In the second half of the sutta the Buddha talks about the realities of the perceived self or atta-patilabha to a wanderer named Potthapada.

After the Buddha describes to Potthapada the wanderer that his soteriological goal is to abandon the acquired self, he asks Potthapada a series of questions:

Suppose they were to ask you: 'Did you exist in the past? Did you not not exist? Will you exist in the future? Will you not not exist? Do you exist now? Do you not not exist?' Thus asked, how would you answer?

Potthapada replies that he would say, “I existed in the past. I did not not exist. I will exist in the future. I will not not exist. I exist now. I do not not exist.”

Here the Buddha is asking a direct question on Potthapada’s perceived existence over time. There is no talk of past lives, and when the Buddha is asking Potthapada whether he “exist[ed] in the past,” it can only be construed that the Buddha is inquiring into the life that Potthapada can perceive here and now.

Hearing the wanderer’s answers, the Buddha continues:

Suppose, Citta, they were to ask you: 'Whatever your past acquisition of a self: Is that alone your true acquisition of self, while the future & present ones are null & void? Whatever your future acquisition of a self: Is that alone your true acquisition of a self, while the past & present ones are null & void? Whatever your present acquisition of a self: Is that alone your true acquisition of a self, while the past & future ones are null & void?' Thus asked, how would you answer?

...Thus asked, lord, I would answer: 'Whatever my past acquisition of a self: on that occasion, that alone was my true acquisition of a self, while future & present ones were null & void. Whatever my future acquisition of a self: on that occasion, that alone will be my true acquisition of a self, while the past & present ones will be null & void. Whatever my present acquisition of a self: on that occasion, that alone is my true acquisition of a self, while the past & future ones are null & void.'

It is important to note here that the only difference between this question and the previous one is the Buddha's elaboration of the "I" into the “true acquisition of a self.” The Buddha is doing this in an effort to help Potthapada to draw a connection between the "I" and the "acquired self" in order to shift the understanding of the “I” from a presupposed thing to an acquired concept.

The key here is that these passages have nothing to do with establishing the reality of an ontological self. On the contrary, the passages seem to move in the opposite direction by implying that the “I” is not something someone has but mentally acquires.

In an abrupt shift, the sutta continues with Buddha expounding an ontological view of the self that startlingly resembles the Upanishad's:

In the same way, Citta, when there is a gross acquisition of a self... it's classified just as a gross acquisition of a self. When there is a mind-made acquisition of a self... When there is a formless acquisition of a self, it's not classified either as a gross acquisition of a self or as a mind-made acquisition of a self. It's classified just as a formless acquisition of a self.

Just as when milk comes from a cow, curds from milk, butter from curds, ghee from butter, and the skimmings of ghee from ghee. When there is milk, it's not classified as curds, butter, ghee, or skimmings of ghee. It's classified just as milk. When there are curds... When there is butter... When there is ghee... When there are the skimmings of ghee, they're not classified as milk, curds, butter, or ghee. They're classified just as the skimmings of ghee.

The passage appears to convey the idea that once you have acquired one of the three selfs, for example, the gross self of the body, that acquired self will persist as long as one can maintain it. Once that particular self changes to another type, for example, a gross self changing into a formless self (presumably after death), nothing is left behind from what it was before. While the self’s overall form may change, like milk changing into butter, the underlying essence that keeps the self together still persists (butter is still milk but simply has a different appearance and consistency).

What is amazing about this passage is that the Buddha seems to be conveying a Vedic view of the self which blatantly contradicts the Buddha’s notion of anatta or not-self.

Interestingly the sutta continues with the Buddha concluding, “Citta, these are the world's designations, the world's expressions, the world's ways of speaking, the world's descriptions, with which the Tathagata expresses himself but without grasping to them.”

Even though in the very last passage the Buddha is depicted as presenting a Vedic notion of the self, we are summarily reminded that the Buddha’s mentioning of the self is just a worldly expression that is used to express an idea and by no means used to designate an actual underlying reality.

What is going on here?

Before answering this question, it is important to reexamine the milk simile which seems to be the core element of the Buddha’s argument. The first thing that is interesting about this simile is that it refers to a total of five different states (milk, curds, butter, ghee, skimmings of ghee) yet there are only three different types of acquired selfs (gross, mind and formless). The second issue with the simile is that there is a fundamental difference between milk transition states and self transition states. In the case of milk, once a state has transitioned into another state there can be no reversal to the previous one, for example, ghee cannot be turned back into butter. However, with the three different kinds of self, this is not the case. It is quite easy to see, for example, the gross self transitioning into a mind made self which can transition back to the gross self.

What is suspicious about the Buddha alluding to the gross self, mind-made self and the formless self as being merely “world’s expressions” or conventional forms of speech is that no one in ancient India referred to themselves via these three different types of selves as if they were common expressions that everyone immediately knew what one was referring to.

The central problem behind all these interpretive issues stems from the idea of an ontological notion of the self as a “thing” that is acquired. If we can for the moment understand the self as a conventional conceptual entity a person is attributed with or acquires, and look at these passages from this perspective, we find that all the issues raised suddenly dissipate.

For example, if we look at the milk simile and understand the various different maturation stages of milk as being analogous to the different maturation stages of individual (baby, boy/girl, adolescent, man/woman, old man/old woman) everything makes sense. Like milk that transitions irreversibly from one stage to the next so does an individual.

What more, the usage of the terms baby, boy, adolescent, man and so on are conventional terms unlike the three selfs.

Understanding the simile in this way makes the central point a lot more transparent. The chief idea being is that the various stages are just expressions that capture a particular stage of a process that is continually changing through time. The fact that we use such terms does in no way indicate an underlying essential entity. What one may mistake as a concrete permanent entity is simply a process of change that we habitually abstract and reify an ontological concept out of.

Conclusion

The Potthapada Sutta is a profound sutta which demonstrates the Buddha’s view on the self. Through interpolations linked with scholarly systemization, the central purport of the sutta has unfortunately been obscured. By interpreting the key passages from the perspective of the conceptual self in this life instead of three types of selves in subsequent future lives, it becomes clear that the Buddha is expounding the notion of anatta and not an explanation of the continuity of a life through rebirth as the common traditional interpretations have posited.

Intrusive Interpolations In the Potthapada Sutta -- Part I

The Potthapada Sutta from the Digha Nikaya is an interesting one. The sutta contains two conversations between the Buddha and the wanderer Potthapada on two separate occasions. The first conversation begins with Potthapada asking the Buddha on what is the “ultimate cessation of perception” followed by further questioning by Potthapada on various speculative questions on the nature of the soul, whether it exists after death and so on. The Buddha declines to answer these last series of questions positing that he does so because it is not conducive towards enlightenment. The first conversation ends with the Buddha leaving and Potthapada’s admitting that he doesn’t fully understand why the Buddha declined to the answer the speculative questions asked of him.

A couple of days later, Potthapada seeks out the Buddha and asks him to clarify why the Buddha did not answer the speculative questions previously asked. The Buddha goes on to repeat that such questions he declares as uncertain because they are not conducive towards enlightenment.

The Buddha goes on to say that there are ascetics who proclaim that, "After death, the self is exclusively happy and free from disease” and when questioned on this statement, none of them could offer a means to achieve this end and none of them could say they experienced what they proclaimed. In a famous simile the Buddha says:

Potthapada, it's as if a man were to say, 'I'm in love with the most beautiful woman in this country,' and other people were to say to him, 'Well, my good man, this most beautiful woman in this country with whom you are in love: do you know if she's of the warrior caste, the priestly caste, the merchant caste, or the laborer caste?' and, when asked this, he would say, 'No.' Then they would say to him, 'Well then, do you know her name or clan name? Whether she's tall, short, or of medium height? Whether she's dark, fair, or ruddy-skinned? Do you know what village or town or city she's from?' When asked this, he would say, 'No.' Then they would say to him, 'So you've never known or seen the woman you're in love with?' When asked this, he would say, 'Yes.'

The Buddha provides another simile and continues by saying, “Potthapada, there are these three acquisitions of a self (atta-patilabha): the gross acquisition of a self, the mind-made acquisition of a self, and the formless acquisition of a self.”

What is interesting about this passage is that the self is listed as possessing three different categories or types. This list oriented analytical style appears to be a scholastic elaboration performed by the systemizers hinting at the passage possibly being inauthentic.

Another interesting feature of this passage is the usage of the Pali compound word atta-patilabha which is translated, in this passage at least, as “acquisition of a self.” In the Pali English Dictionary the verb, paṭilabhati is defined as to obtain, receive and is derived from the verb root labh- (to get) with the prefix pati- (on to, at). From this, we get a sense of the word atta-patilabha as an acquired or obtained self.

I think the Buddha specifically used such a term to indicate that our notion of self is not intrinsic to man (remember the Buddha’s anatta or not-self) but something that is necessarily constructed or “acquired” through convention, beliefs and so on. The Buddha’s emphasis by using the word atta-paṭilabha seems to center here on human psychology instead of ontology as the list of three different kinds of selves seems to suggest.

If we take this list of different acquired selves and broach the question of how one may acquire such selves we soon run into difficulties. For example, how can one who already has a gross self (as defined by the Buddha in the next couple of sentences as the four great elements or the body) acquire another gross self if he or she already has one? Of course, one can say you can "acquire" a gross self by being reborn, but why use the word paṭilabha (acquired) in the first place? Why not just say there are three types of selves (gross, mind-made and formless) and leave it at that?

Following this rather problematic passage, the Buddha continues on to say:

I teach the Dhamma for the abandoning of the gross acquisition of a self, such that, when you practice it, defiling mental qualities will be abandoned, bright mental qualities will grow, and you will enter & remain in the culmination & abundance of discernment, having known & realized it for yourself in the here & now.

It appears fairly clear that the Buddha is saying that one can get rid of the “gross acquisition of a self” by “abandoning . . . defiling mental qualities.” At first glance it seems reasonable. But when you reread the statement it almost sounds like with the abandonment of defiling mental qualities the body itself become abandoned which seems to suggest it disappears or immediately breaks down.

If instead we substitute the “gross” acquisition of a self with just the “acquired self”, which I indicated is a purely mental construct, then this passage makes a lot more sense. As our sense of who and what we are is based on our mental apparatus, it seems logical that when we can abandon the “mental qualities” emanating from this mental apparatus the whole notion of a self is necessarily abandoned as well.

In part II, I will continue my analysis of the sutta and show that one of most famous similes in the Pali canon has been obscured further suggesting that this sutta has suffered from interpolations.

Pericope Problems in the Mahakammavibhanga Sutta - Part 2

In part 1, I examined the Mahakammavibhanga Sutta pointing out some evidence for interpolations and argued that that the same conclusion could still be made, and even clarified, if the interpolations were removed.

My strongest argument for the text being tampered with is located in the concluding passages where the Buddha spells out the main point to be drawn from the sutta:

As to the person here who kills living beings . . . and on the dissolution of the body, after death, reappears in a state of deprivation . . . even in hell: either earlier he did an evil action to be felt as painful, or later he did an evil action to be felt as painful. . . .

As to the person here who kills living beings . . . and on the dissolution of the body, after death, reappears in a happy destination . . . in the heavenly world: either earlier he did a good action to be felt as pleasant, or later he did an action to be felt as pleasant . . .

As to the person here who abstains from living beings . . . and on the dissolution of the body, after death, reappears in a happy destination . . . in the heavenly world: either earlier he did a good action to be felt as pleasant, or later he did an action to be felt as pleasant . . .

As to the person here who abstains from living beings . . . and on the dissolution of the body, after death, reappears in a state of deprivation . . . even in hell: either earlier he did an evil action to be felt as painful, or later he did an evil action to be felt as painful.

The difficulty with these passages lies with the mixing of psychological processes with metaphysical ones. The juxtaposition of two distinctly disparate processes together in an effort to suggest they are somehow related leaves a rather contrived feeling; it almost seems that the author is trying to force two things together that simply do not belong together.

It is essential to note that at the beginning of the sutta the Buddha gave a brief, concise exposition on kamma conveying that the fruits of an intentional action lead to either pleasant, unpleasant, or neither pleasant or unpleasant feelings. The passages quoted above appear to be a continuation of this initial mentioning, but the link between the two is not as clear with the various metaphysical pericopes or stock passages interspersed amongst the core textual element of kamma and the resultant feeling.

If we take these concluding passages at face value the basic import seems to be that any intentional action which produces a certain feeling will lead to a particular post mortem existence. For example, if we commit “an evil action to be felt as painful”, we will end up in hell.

But this is problematic. What happens to one who commits an evil action to be felt as pleasurable and not painful (for example, putting cocaine in someone’s drink)? Do we still go to hell or do we go to heaven? In a similar case, what happens if we commit a good action to be felt as painful (violently pushing a person aside so they do not get hit by a moving vehicle), does that mean we will end up in hell?

Another issue is the fact that a person will commit thousands if not hundreds of thousands of intentional actions over the course of a lifetime that could be described as causing pleasurable or painful feelings. So which of these actions determine our post mortem destiny? All of them? Only the worst ones? The actions that have the most prevalence? Do we go to hell or heaven equal to number of times we experience pleasant or unpleasant feelings? Or do we only go once? But which one, heaven or hell, or both?

As argued in part one, we can go ahead and remove these stock passages (and add a few logical substitutions based on the Buddha’s first succinct exposition of kamma in the intial part of the sutta) and still reach the same overall conclusion of the text:

As to the person who did an evil action and feels pain: either earlier he did an evil action to be felt as painful, or later he did an evil action to be felt as painful. . . .

As to the person here who did an evil action and feels pleasure: either earlier he did a good action to be felt as pleasant, or later he did a good action to be felt as pleasant . . .

As to the person here who did a good action and feels pleasure: either earlier he did a good action to be felt as pleasant . . .

As to the person here who did a good action and feels pleasure: either earlier he did an evil action to be felt as painful, or later he did an evil action to be felt as painful.

Notice that this constructed passage is now a lot clearer and also follows logically from the Buddha’s initial exposition that solely described a psychological process. The difficulties I described above are for a large part now gone.

Conclusion

The Buddha took the Vedic notion of kamma and gave it a psychological and ethical dimension to it. This was a revolutionary innovation which was more subtle than the prevailing notions of karma at the time.

The Mahakammavibhanga Sutta is a sutta that I believe originally delved deeper into the psychological aspect of kamma and not the cosmological aspect in an effort to remind the reader to be careful about drawing conclusions about kamma and thus moral causality when examining instances where one lacks the capability of obtaining all the necessary information. While the cosmological aspect per se does not detract from this conclusion, it obscures rather than clarifies.

Pericope Problems in the Mahakammavibhanga Sutta - Part 1

The second part of the excellent article, “Kamma in Context: The Mahakammavibhangasutta and the Culakammavibhangasutta”, comments on the philosophical imports of the Mahakammavibhangasutta.

The first part of the sutta begins the Buddha admonishing a monk for not properly answering a wandering ascetic who enquires into the different kinds of feelings one experiences for an intentional act of body, speech or mind:

This misguided man Samiddhi would have answered the wanderer rightly when asked about the three kinds of feelings 'Friend, Potaliputta, having done an intentional kamma by way of body, speech and mind [whose result is] to be felt as pleasant, one feels pleasure. Having done an intentional action by way of body, speech or mind [whose result is] to be felt as painful, one feels pain. Having done an intentional action by way of body, speech or mind [whose result is] to be felt as neither-pain-nor-pleasure, one feels neither-pain-nor-pleasure.'

This short and concise statement is revealing of the Buddha’s notion of kamma. For one thing, this statement indicates the importance the Buddha places on the psychological aspect of karma. Here he mentions how particular feelings result from certain intentional actions or kamma. It is important to note that there is no mention of future rebirths or any other metaphysical notions associated with cosmology.

Then an odd shift occurs and the Buddha starts his analysis of the “great exposition of action” by outlining four types of people who end up in heaven and hell: (1) Those who live unethical lives are born in hellish destinations (2) those who live unethical lives are reborn in heavenly destinations (3) those who live ethical lives are reborn in heavenly destinations (4) those who live ethical lives are reborn in hellish destinations.

He then goes on to relate how various religious men arrive at different ethical conclusions based on the perceived fate of people after death: (1) There are evil actions with negative results (2) There are no evil actions that have negative results (3) There are good actions that results in positive results (4) There are no good actions that result in positive results.

Interestingly, the Buddha mentions that one of the primary methods used to reach such conclusions is based on supernormal powers:

By means of ardor, endeavor, devotion, diligence and right attention, some recluse or brahmin attains such concentration of mind that, when his mind is concentrated, he sees with the divine eye, which is purified and surpasses the human, he sees . . .

What is interesting about this particular means of gaining knowledge is the primacy it is given in the text. While there does appear to be some evidence that there were other teachers in ancient India who did make various claims based on supra-normal insight, such insights are always associated with arguing for moral causality and never against it.

But this is exactly what we have:

By means of ardor . . . some recluse or brahmin . . . sees with the divine eye . . . sees that person here who abstains from killing living beings . . . after death, he reappears in the state of deprivation, in an unhappy destination, even in hell. He says thus: ‘Indeed, there are no good actions; there is no result of good conduct.’

The only religious school of the Buddha’s time who appeared to deny the result of moral conduct came from the Lokayata school. However, this school had a very materialistic view of the world and considered that the only valid means of knowledge was from the five senses. They would have probably denied the possibility of any such knowledge gained from the “divine eye.”

This red flag alerts us that this part of the text may not be original. Besides changing tone from a psychological one to a cosmological one, the definite scholastic systemization, that cannot be denied, all point to the fact of a possible later addition.

The article mentioned above does not even notice these difficulties and continues to take the sutta at face value which only makes author's main argument more difficult to make.

The main conclusion he comes to is based on the last series of passages in the text. In these passages the Buddha concludes that there is indeed moral causation and further elucidates the functioning of kamma:

As to the person here who kills living beings. . . and holds wrong view, and on the dissolution of the body, after death, reappears in a state of deprivation . . . even in hell: either earlier he did an evil action to be felt as painful, or later he did an evil action to be felt as painful, or at the time of death he acquired and undertook wrong view. . . . And since he here killed living beings . . . and held wrong view, he will experience the result of that either here and now, or in his next rebirth, or in some subsequent existence.

This passage is then repeated three times with the permutations of evil/good actions leading to heaven/hell.

The author then summarizes the meaning of this passage by noting, "This is the key message: do not be fooled by your own (limited) knowledge of events; do not let that undermine trust in the metaphysical principle, which is continually at work, although sometimes (perhaps often) not apparent."

In the basic outline of his conclusion, I agree with him. However, if he is referring to the “metaphysical principle” in terms of the cosmological kamma/rebirth passages then I disagree. In the next part, I will provide further evidence of rebirth interpolations and the show that the text makes the same important point in an even clearer fashion without them.