Gendun Chopel spent almost sixteen months in Sri Lanka in 1940–1941. Despite the extensive knowledge of “Hīnayāna” doctrine that he had gained in Tibet through studying works like the Abhidharmakośa, his time in Sri Lanka was his first encounter with a Buddhist tradition that rejected the Mahāyāna sūtras and the tantras. He found himself in the comfortable position of living and interacting with fellow Buddhists but the uncomfortable position of finding little sympathy for the form of Buddhism he himself practiced. His fascinating description of the Theravāda tradition of Sri Lanka appears here, written in a style reminiscent of participant-observation ethnography.172
IT IS SAID that altogether there are a little more than twenty thousand monks in the entire island. For all of them, there is not even the slightest need to be concerned about alms and shelter. Even in what are considered to be large monasteries, not more than twenty monks reside there. The beds and the provisions for all of them are almost suitable for a king. Furthermore, when a rich person dies, it is a custom to offer his everyday possessions, such as his bed, to the temple. Thus, the monks receive only the best of everyday possessions. However, all of this must be considered as belonging to the saṃgha; as for personal possessions, nothing is allowed other than the necessities and other minor things. For those monks who stay in the temples, the villagers take turns bringing alms. Although the people very much like [the monks] coming for alms, apart from those who live in hermitages, the wandering monks, and the newly ordained monks, the majority do not perform it. Some make a vow to beg for alms for a short time and count this as a form of virtuous practice. This is similar to our attending the regular tea offerings at the great assembly. Because all the old people are familiar with the details of the inappropriate activities, such as cutting down a plant, touching precious material, and eating what is not offered, there is no opportunity [for monks] to do whatever they please.
Some monks have quite large amounts of money that supposedly belongs to the saṃgha, but since they cannot touch any of it, this can lead to laughter. For example, when they count their money, a boy spreads it in front of the monk. The monk holds a long stick in his hand and uses it to turn over [the notes and the coins] and counts the money; whenever the boy makes a mistake in counting, he gets hit on the head with that same stick. Thus, apart from being humorous, this is not something that inspires admiration. However, it is undeniable that this does represent a vinaya regulation. When midday has passed, it is considered a sin to offer food to an image of the Buddha, not to mention to the monks. The afternoon offerings include drinks and butter lamps and so on. Because the Teacher was a fully ordained monk, there are many customs, such as novices not sleeping in his presence, not being touched by women, and so on, which although connected to the dharma in essence, seem somewhat amusing in practice. I cannot write about all of these here.
From time to time, alms would be offered to the saṃgha. A procession of monks, in order of seniority and carrying a stūpa and a palm-leaf book, would proceed. They are received from up to a yojana away, [the laity] spreading a large white cotton cloth under their feet, which is moved [as the monks proceed]. When the monks reach the door of a house, a layman brings a copper container and water and washes the feet of each of the monks. Another person wipes their feet with a cloth. Then they sit on the cushions and the most senior monk makes all the family members repeat after him the refuge formula and the five root precepts. Then the food is brought and all the donors melodiously chant three times, imaṃ bhikkhaṃ bhikkhu saṅghassa dema, “I offer this food to the saṃgha of monks.” Then, while reciting these words, they offer cooked rice and distribute cooked vegetables, then yogurt, sweets, and fruits; finally betel leaf is offered. After the meal is over, the male and female donor together hold a single vase and repeat several times, “By this merit, may all of our relatives enjoy happiness.” Repeating this several times, they would dedicate the merit to a relative who had died. Then, the elder monk, holding a white fan in his hand, would explain [the benefit of] the offering, saying such things as, “This giving, even if not done with deliberate intention for it, is certain to bring about the happiness of gods and humans. However, if it has been dedicated with deliberate intention, it is conceivable that [this act] will become a cause for the attainments and the unsurpassed bliss of nirvāṇa.” He would then read a long list of names of the benefactors of the Buddha himself, such as Nanda, Upananda, Yaśodharā, and Anāthapiṇḍada, apportioning their roots of virtue to everyone. In general, when someone sees these practices for the first time, there is no Buddhist whose mind is not impressed.
When the monks eat food inside the temple, they each sit kneeling on a small stool arranged in rows and then eat [their meal]. This is not very pleasing to our eyes, but in the travel journal of the monk Yijing, who traveled in ancient times, he describes even the monks at Nālandā eating in this manner. The [Chinese] monk states that although in general it is not clear in the vinaya, it is certain that this is the intention of the Blessed One; in the vinaya, it states such things as, “if food falls near your feet.” But if the monks were seated comfortably on the ground there would be no way for it to fall near their feet. Also, there is a statement about monks washing their feet after finishing their meal; if one sits cross-legged on a cushion, what need would there be to wash one’s feet? He presents these two arguments. So great is the monk Yijing’s reverence for the Buddha that he is insistent about even this fine point of religious behavior. Again, the monk says that in the past, we in China also ate sitting on a stool, but later, during the time of the Tang emperor there arose the evil custom of everyone sitting on the ground. In any case, by the time of the Republic of China this good custom of the past had again become widespread; this is something we can see for ourselves. This Yijing is said to be a contemporary of Dharmakīrti, and this story about him came up as an aside.
On the nights such as a full moon, new moon, or eclipse, all the laypeople gather at the monastery and a monk teaches the dharma throughout the night. He is offered the three religious robes and the like as a gift. In brief, all of the things that we have heard from the vinaya scriptures with our ears can be each seen with our eyes in real life when we reach Siṅghala. Once a good monk was walking through the middle of a field, and with an attitude of faith, I bought some fruit and offered it to him. He saw that there were still two pana [coins] in my hand and said, “You can still buy more.” Having bought them, he made me carry them and we went on a little way. He received chickpeas from the farmers and obtained a large amount. Then, as we went, he saw coconut bark and said, “This is good for sweeping.” He made me carry a big bundle on my back, and we returned to the temple. I thought that all these monks live by the same dharma and the same path of [disciplinary] actions, yet when it comes to the way they display their greed, they are similar to that “group of six” in ancient times. Reflecting on this, I felt like laughing while feeling a tinge of sadness.
At each monastery there is a temple where the image of the Teacher resides, one stūpa, one Bodhi tree, one guesthouse used for visitors, a place for teaching the dharma called dharmaśālā, and a large structure called the sīmā or “boundary hall,” with stone markers set in all directions establishing a single boundary. This is where all the vinaya rites, such as the confession and recitation of sūtras, are performed. Laypeople are not allowed to enter, and like our protector temples, this is strictly enforced. The monks have a custom of not bowing to any god or human other than the Buddha and one’s elders; this seems to be exactly what our Chak Lotsāwa saw in Bodh Gayā. No matter how important a layperson may be who is paying his respects [to the monk], there is no custom of even bowing one’s head in response. In the temples, there are three types of images of the Teacher—sitting, standing, and lying down—which represent the four activities. They have a tradition of making Śāriputra white and Maudgalyāyana dark. There are also many images of Dīpaṃkara and so forth, renowned as the twenty[-four] buddhas of the past who were the teachers of the bodhisattva, and also those displaying the postures of the Buddha in the forty-nine [days after his enlightenment]. Perhaps because it is easier to sculpt, in each monastery there is a huge image of the Teacher passing into nirvāṇa. This nirvāṇa image is also very widespread in other countries such as China; it is astonishing that it is never seen in Tibet. It seems that in the depths of our hearts we think the death of the Buddha is a bad omen. The members of the śrāvaka sect have an excellent understanding of the dharma, and because they assert that when one passes into nirvāṇa, one achieves the ultimate state, they take this to be the principal representation [of the Buddha].
The group of sixteen sthaviras (elders) is not known to them. However, among what are known as the eighty principal members of the Buddha’s retinue, the sixteen are included. Among these, in the stories in the sūtras of monks who receive prophecies, one sees such monks as Udāyin, who engenders faith in the laypeople, and Vasumallaputra, who assigns shelters and beds. There is also no custom of drawing the wheel of life [the wheel of rebirth] in the vestibules [of the monastery]; similarly they do not have the monk’s khakkhara staff. They say that there is no sūtra source whatsoever for these two. In some monasteries, there are four protector temples that have Samantabhadra, Avalokiteśvara, Viṣṇu, and Ṣaṇmukha [Skanda]. They call Avalokiteśvara, Nātha, or “protector,” and this is precisely his rank. All four of them are considered to be bodhisattvas and are objects of worship by laypeople and are oath-bound protectors of the monks. However, some five hundred years ago, there were many monks who took Avalokiteśvara to be their meditation deity and there are beautiful hymns of praise to him composed by these monks. There is also a rock carving of Avalokiteśvara at a place known as Wäligama. Adorning the doors of some temples are images of Mṛgāramātā and Anathapiṇḍada; these two are similar to dharma protectors. In particular, Mṛgāramātā, or Viśākhā, is considered to be like a goddess of wealth and a goddess of sons. They make protection amulets from charts inscribed with the Teacher’s birthday, age, astrological sign, and so forth and wear it around their necks.
With regard to the everyday conduct of the monks, they rise early in the morning and, while chewing on a neem stick, they sweep the enclosures around the stūpa and the Bodhi tree with a long-handled broom so they don’t have to bend down. Then, washing their hands and feet, they make prostrations to the Buddha and the stūpa, reciting the relevant stanzas. Then, having bowed down to the abbot and the elders, when they arrive at the kitchen they prepare the morning offering of alms. After they have eaten, they perform their regular chores. When a bell is rung, everyone goes to the well, where they wash their entire body and change their wet clothes. The young ones go to the seashore every day where the laypeople cannot see them and go swimming, run around naked, and so forth, maintaining the lifestyle of the “group of seventeen noble ones.” They return and eat their noon meal. When they have finished eating they return to their beds and take a nap for a little while. This is the custom found in all the hot countries. When noon has passed, they drink a cup of boiled black tea without milk. Even in the winter, they drink tea and those who are hungry eat something that is like molasses.
At dusk, everyone gathers in the temple and recites stanzas. The younger ones confess their violations to the elders. Then, sitting down according to their rank, they remain, or pretend to remain, in samādhi [meditation] for a rather long time. While everyone is absorbed in a state of actual concentration with their eyes closed, the elder begins reciting a sūtra, saying, “Thus did I hear.” At that moment, the others suddenly open their eyes and recite together. They chant in turn the Recollection of the Three Jewels Sūtra (Ratana Sutta), the Dependent Origination Sūtra (Paticcasamuppādavibhaṅga Sutta), the Loving Kindness Sūtra (Mettā Sutta), and so on.
Walking before the stūpa and the Bodhi tree, they also recite a stanza for each. Then, bowing to the elders, they return to their beds. There they remain reading or talking until almost midnight. Then, they wash their feet and go to bed wearing their yellow robes [as a blanket]. During the night, the older monks sometimes wake up with a sense of terror and repeatedly shout in their confusion, “All conditioned things are impermanent, impermanent, impermanent” (sabbe saṅkhārā aniccā aniccā aniccā) or “Caused by ignorance, volitional actions arise,” and so on, disturbing the sleep of everyone around them. Thus, this must be something that can be either inspiring or annoying. Some monks carry rosaries and recite what sound like mantras, but when you listen, they are reciting the above phrases. Some [recite], “The Blessed One, Tathāgata…teacher of gods and humans,” while others repeat the first syllables of these words in their original Indian language. They refer to this as practicing meditation; they do not use the expression “mantra repetition” for this. Even when they see someone holding a rosary, they say that he is performing bhāvanā, practicing meditation. Because there are references [in the texts] to “counting meditation” and “enumerating meditation,” it seems appropriate to use such expressions.
The early rains retreat begins from the sixteenth day of our sixth month and the late [rains retreat] begins from the sixteenth day of the seventh month, thus they remain [in retreat] for three full months. During the early rains retreat there are many benefactors who offer fresh food; there is even a saying about monks getting fat [during this period]. When the ceremony for ending the early rains retreat is concluded, all the people from the surrounding villages gather for kaṭhinadāna, an offering of cloth for robes, and the festival of saffron. For this, all the villagers—men, women, and children—rise around midnight and form a procession, carrying large oil lamps. Above their heads they each carry a container with long bolts of white cotton for making robes, patches of cloth, and rolls of cloth, in accordance with whatever they can afford. With the sound of sādhu and various kinds of music, they circumambulate all the stūpas in the area.
Finally, they come to the temple and make offerings to each of the monks. At the break of dawn, they spread a great bolt of cloth on a large table decorated with flowers and anointed with fragrances. Four monks bring small knives, cords, needles, and so on. Then, a long cord soaked in saffron is held at one end by a monk and at the other end by a donor, with children crowding behind to hold the end of the string, creating a scene similar to a boat being pulled by a rope at the mouth of the Machu River [in Tibet]. Then, as lines are drawn [with the cord], all the laypeople outside say, in unison, “sādhu sādhu” and beat big drums. They play music, sing, and dance, with shouts of “the doctrine of the Teacher endures” and “the ocean of ethical discipline remains undamaged.” Everyone, such as the seminary monks, can recite many mantras from the vinaya. [This ceremony] is more extensive even than the self-empowerment ceremony of the Sarvavid Vairocana [Tantra]. In brief, the obtaining of the robes seems to be the largest ritual of the year for śrāvaka monks. Then, up until noon, everyone takes turns sewing one yellow robe and even dyes it. They offer it to the saṃgha and give it to a monk who needs it. I found this ritual to be most fascinating, so I have written about it in some detail here.
The festival of saffron is in our ninth month, and this month is also called the “month of saffron.” During this month very heavy rains come to this island; it is said that this is due to the power of the positive gods being pleased. The upper robe is about the length of half a roll [of cloth] while the third robe has only five lines of patches. However, saying that there is no contradiction in having up to twenty-five line patches, some wear a ceremonial robe filled with small square patches. The way they wear their robes is quite surprising. Aligning two corners of the robe, they roll these together. The end of the rolled part is then wrapped behind the right shoulder [in fact, the left shoulder] and one end is held by the hand and pulled from under the armpit. By doing so, they have a marvelous way of covering everything from the throat to the end of the lower garment. When you get accustomed to it a little, it is quite pleasing to the eye. In all the ancient Indian sculptures as well as the Chinese style sandalwood buddhas, the monks’ robes are like this. Even the holding of one corner [of the robes] in one hand is found in all of these [sculptures]. I think that this is exactly the posture being referred to in the context of the making of prophecy about the disciples at the conclusion of an empowerment ceremony, where it states that in his right hand Śākyamuni holds the corners of his robes in the shape of the ears of a deer. However, this manner of wearing robes is possible for their robes because they are five cubits in width; because our monks’ robes are too small, this is not possible.
Now, all the monks of this island are exclusively Sthavira Nikāya. Within that, stemming from different ordination lineages, there are three main divisions: the Siyam Nikāya or the “order of the dark blue ones,” the Amarapura Nikāya or the “order of the immortal city,” and the Rāmañña Nikāya or the “order of the joyful.” Although it is mentioned [in some sources] that the Sthaviras have second names like ākara or varma, there does not appear to be any certainty about these names here. As for the name varma, it seems almost nonexistent here. There are many with the name Vanaratna. Among the three, the Siyam Nikāya is the wealthiest and most powerful. They are also the proprietors of the canine tooth of the Teacher and of the Bodhi tree. They only ordain people of high caste. In the past, people of lower castes were also ordained [in this order], but when the king, ministers, and others bowed down to them, they could not bear this and rose from their seats. Thus from that point on it is said that they were prohibited from being ordained [in this lineage]. Like us, they wear the upper robe over one shoulder. They even shave their eyebrows. This is the tradition that takes the rule in the vinaya that one should shave the hair around the mouth to mean to shave the hair on one’s face. The Amarapura wear their upper robe over both shoulders. They have a great many monasteries.
The Rāmañña have the strictest practice of the vinaya. For example, when they perform the ordination ceremony, to [clearly maintain] the boundaries, it must be performed in a boat in the middle of the water. They say that because the ordination lineage of the other two groups is not pure, their ordination is not authentic. They will not recite sūtras or eat food with [the other two orders]. Because of this the other two groups dislike them. However, the laypeople admire them over everyone else. Only those of the lower caste take ordination [in this group]. Since they do not think it proper even to carry an umbrella of cloth, they carry an umbrella made of palm leaves, shaped like an oyster shell. It is they who are supreme in abiding in the ascetic virtues. Among them, the group Kalyāṇavaṃsa, “bone of virtue,” has the strictest practice of all.
In general, all these Siṅghala monks tend to hold only their own system to be supreme. With respect to the systems of others, regardless of how good or bad it may be, they tend to reject it completely without making distinctions. However, there are many who have some interest in the philosophical aspects of Mahāyāna; there were a few who have even memorized the verses of Nāgārjuna’s Madhyamakakārikā. Regarding the other presentations [of the Mahāyāna] related to the aspect of the vast practice, such as the sambhogakāya (enjoyment body), they say that these are explanations copied from the Great Brahman [concept] of the Hindus. On the question of the cessation of the continuum of matter and consciousness in the nirvāṇa without residue, their understanding has something that is both profound and confused. They assert that the statement that a bodhisattva is superior to an arhat is the talk of the Hindu kṣatriyas. Furthermore, there is a lengthy list [they cite] that states that the Mahāsāṃghikas composed the Pile of Jewels Sūtra (Ratnakūṭa) and that the followers of Vajriputra composed the Web of Illusion Tantra (Māyājāla), and so on. Because I do not wish to be forced to antagonize you [my fellow Tibetans], I will not list them here. At the conclusion of that list, the following is written: “Be that as it may, the bare essence of the Sugata’s teaching remains undamaged in the midst of all of these [texts]. In particular, the Tripiṭaka recited by the Haimavata sect, both in terms of word and meaning, is very similar to that spoken from the Buddha’s own mouth.”
The master Bhāvaviveka states that the Haimavata sect split off from the Sthavira Nikāya. Thus, it is certain that their sūtras and the sūtras of the Sthaviras were similar, and this similarity seems to consist of this fact [of shared origin]. Apart from referring to them as the Śrāvaka Nikāya or the Theravāda, that is, Sthaviravāda, if one calls them Hīnayāna (inferior vehicle), they explode, asking, “Who gave that name? In that case you should call the Buddha the inferior teacher.” In particular, they consider the Vajrayāna to be a deplorable thing and condemn it as pañcamakāra, or the “five m’s.” When I tell them that even ordained monks like Butön and Tsong kha pa admired the Mantra[yāna], they will not hear about it. There was a monk who heard the story of Milarepa and felt that he must have been a wonderful lay practitioner and felt strong admiration for him, but when I told him that he too was a practitioner of secret mantra, he got up and left without even listening to the rest of the story. Regarding the explanation that summarizes [tantric practices] into the “five m’s,” I have not seen such an account in our own [Buddhist] tantras, but it certainly appears in the Hindu tantras. For example, in the Kālīvilāsa Tantra one reads, madyaṃ māsaṃ tathā matsyaṃ mudrāṃ maithunameva ca / pañcatattvavihīnaṃ pūjāṃ na phalodbhavaḥ:
Beer, meat, and likewise fish,
Mudrā and sexual union;
Offerings inferior in these five principles,
They shall bear no fruits.
In the Indian language there are five m’s [at the beginning of these words].
Similarly, there are not even stories of the Mahāyāna masters who came to this land in the past, such as Āryadeva, Śāntipa [Ratnākaraśānti], and so on. Hoping to find the direct disciple of Śāntipa whom Buddhaguptanātha said that he met in Kandy in Sri Lanka, I wandered around in that region for more than a fortnight, but no one had even heard of him. At that time, he was said to have been about seven hundred years old; now he would be more than nine hundred years old. Or he must have passed away. Otherwise, I wondered why he would not grant an audience to the one Mahāyāna person who had come from Tibet. Similarly, no one seems to know the place where the sthavira Vajriputra resides, so if someone happens to travel here in the future, please look for him in the region of Mount Masdenatala [?]. As for the lineages of nada [?] and so on, how can they even know about these? Nevertheless, everyone is familiar with the fact that in the past the Mahāyāna did spread here; this is even described at length in their annals. There is also a history of the Bodhi tree composed in the past by a layman named Guruḷugōmī who was a follower of the Mahāyāna. He is also said to have composed some commentaries on Mahāyāna sūtras. I wonder whether this is the same as the commentary on the Karuṇāpuṇḍarīka composed by a Sinhalese layman, one Pṛthivībandhu, included in Butön’s Tengyur catalog; there is no doubt that the name of this layman is definitely Guruḷugōmī as well.
Now, the three Mahāvihāra or the “great monastery,” Jetavana or “conquering grove,” and Abhayagiri or “fearless mountain” were in the past chief among all the religious sites of this island. They were built by the kings Tissa, Mahāsena, and Abhaya, respectively. At the sites of all three, there is a stūpa that resembles a mountain, ruins of the ancient monastery as far as the eye can see, and a small monastery for the caretaker. There is no doubt that these are the principal sites of the three sects, Jetavana, Abhayagiri, and Mahāvihāra, which are counted among the eighteen sects. That all these three were Sthavira is clearly stated by both Padmasambhava and Vinītadeva. The disagreements of these sects with each other and how they engaged in debates are described at length in Sinhalese royal chronicles, and, in particular, it is reputed that the Mahāyāna views and practices of the Abhayagiri were disapproved, as many as three times. In sources such as the Blaze of Reasoning (Tarkajvālā) there are many ways of enumerating [the eighteen sects], yet there is no mention whatsoever of these three. However, I believe that this is due to the fact that those three only came to be known in later times. Furthermore, it is said that among the Sarvāstivāda and so on, there emerged many Mahāyāna paṇḍitas who were well versed in logic. At that time the Sthaviras lacked the confidence to debate with them and were at the same time reluctant to discard the stainless scriptures of the Blessed One. Thus, they abandoned the central land and gathered in the land of Laṅkā. The travel guide of the Chinese monk also mentions, “These days the Sthaviras have departed from the central land.”
With respect to the three piṭakas of the Sthaviras, if one were to measure the volumes, they are about a bit more than one-third of the Tibetan Kangyur [translations of the word of the Buddha]. Within the Tripiṭaka, in the Vinaya, there are the “five sections”: the defeats (pārājika), the downfalls (pācittiya), the large division (mahāvagga), the small division (cūlavagga), and what is referred to as the “surrounding path” (parivāra), as well as the prātimokṣa [vows] of nuns. In the Sūtra Piṭaka, there are five: the Long Discourses (Dīgha Nikāya), the Middle-Length Discourses (Majjhima Nikāya), the Connected Discourses (Saṃyutta Nikāya), the Gradual Discourses (Aṅguttara Nikāya), and the Minor Discourses (Khuddaka Nikāya). In the Long Discourses, there are thirty-four sūtras, such as the Sutta of Brahmā’s Net (Brahmajāla Sutta). Among them [in the Gradual Discourses], there is the Wood Pile Sutta (Dārukkhandha Sutta), which is referred to in the Blaze of Reasoning. In this sūtra, the Teacher sees a burning tree and describes the faults of immorality. As a result, sixty monks violently vomit thick blood and die, sixty more return their precepts, while another sixty attain fruition. There exist [in this sūtra] references to numerous sets of sixty. In the Middle-Length Discourses there are one hundred and five short sūtras [in fact, one hundred fifty-two], and it is considered to be principal among all the sūtras. In the Gradual Discourses, there are 2,308 sūtras. Among the fifteen subdivisions of the Minor Discourses, there is a text that resembles the Udānavarga, and it also contains the Jātakas and so forth.
In the Abhidharma, from among the seven books, there is the Collection of Dharmas (Dhammasaṅgaṇi), the Analysis (Vibhaṅga), the Points of Discussion (Kathāvatthu), the Analysis of the Person (Puggalapaññatti), the Discourse on the Elements (Dhātukathā), the Divisible Pairs (Yamaka), and the Thorough Engagement (Paṭṭhāna). Now, the seven books of the Kashmiri Vaibhāṣikas are the Entry into Wisdom (Jñānaprasthāna), the Enumeration of Transmigrators (Saṅgītiparyāya), and so on. Thus, they have different names; whether the actual texts are the same or not I do not know. The seven books of the Kashmiris are said to be extant in Chinese translation. They assert that these seven books are the words of the Teacher and that they were spoken to an audience of celestial beings. They also make these the primary focus of their study. It is said that in the past their study flourished particularly in the country of Burma. They divide the sūtras into two parts, a section spoken from the mouth of the Teacher himself and another section understood to be the speech of the compilers, called aṭṭhakathā, thus making a very clear distinction. In our sūtras, these two parts remain undifferentiated. In texts like the vinaya, if a comprehensive comparison was to be made of the stories in theirs and those in ours—such as [determining] what is unclear in one and clear in the other, where they converge or where they completely diverge—there might be many surprises. For example, in the context of the infraction pertaining to handling wool it is clearly stated in our vinaya that the group of six went to Nepal. In their scripture, however, it only states that they went to a country in the north. Similarly, [their scripture] speaks of two Udāyī: red Udāyī who engaged in deeds that lead to inferior states and black Udāyī [Kāludāyī] who later attain arhatship. This is not evident in our scripture, and there is a discrepancy.
[Their scripture] states that Virūḍhaka held a grudge against Mahānāma for washing his house after his visit so he killed the Śākyas, and, dragged away by the waves of the ocean, he [Virūḍhaka] went to hell. This [story] is also a little different. Similarly, they say that [the Buddha] thought that if Nanda took Sundarī as his wife, his good fortune [for nirvāṇa] would come to an end, so he had him ordained on the very day of the wedding. This is not found in our [version]. The story, passed from one hand to another, is applied to places where people gather. I don’t think that the story of Yaśodharā being ordained and becoming an arhat exists in our account either. I think that in the Lotus Sūtra (Saddharmapuṇḍarīka Sūtra) there might be some mention of Yaśodharā being a fully ordained nun. Please look.
There is also a very sad story of how Ānanda was banished. It is said that when he went to Jetavana, the monks who were staying there would not speak to him or recite sūtras with him. So he went off to one end [of the monastery] and set up a place to sit and sleep. Staying there, every morning he would go to the Teacher’s empty perfumed chamber and prepare the water, tooth stick, and so forth, as he had done when [the Buddha] was alive. Taking a branch from the Bodhi tree, he planted it at the door of the perfumed chamber. Later, this became the tree called Ānandabodhi, to which the wandering monks would come to pay homage. Such accounts are mentioned. The monk Xuanzang states that he saw this tree.
There is a story of how the parents of Śyāmakā, fearing the plague, broke through the wall and escaped and died on the road, and how, as Śyāmakā was wandering, she was adopted as a daughter of Himavat. [Also] there is the story that Udayana and Vāsavadattā173 were separated by a curtain. She called him a repulsive name, and when she made a mistake while he was teaching her [the charm] to tame [elephants], Udayana called her “big mouth.” Angry, she ripped open the curtain, and then lived in a bird’s nest. There is also a story of how Anupamā verbally attacked the Teacher using ten harsh names, such as “donkey monk.” [These stories] are not found in our [scriptures]. In the Sūtra of the Wise and the Foolish (Damamūkanidāna Sūtra), there is the story of the sufferings experienced by Utpalavarṇā, but they connect it to the haggard Gautamī. Because it is found in the same manner in our own Bhikṣuṇīvibhaṅga, it seems that in some cases, such as this one, the names are exchanged. There is the story of how haggard Gautamī, carrying the corpse of her dead child, urgently implored the Buddha, “Gautama, since your power is great, please bring him back to life,” and how, the Teacher, knowing that the time was appropriate, replied, “Bring me a handful of white mustard seeds from a house where no one has died.” Although she went all around Śrāvastī, she did not find one. Thus, saying that death is certain for all, she attained the fruition [of enlightenment].
Abhaya took ordination and became known as Vimalakīrti. His mother, Āmrapālī,174 heard him reciting the sūtras and she also became ordained. Because of her beauty, the monks became distracted. Ānanda taught them the dharma. [This story] as well as a verse uttered by Āmrapālī is in the Therīgāthā. I do not think these [stories] are familiar to us either.
There is also a story of the birth of a second prince Abhaya, from the union of a prostitute named Padmāvatī in Ujjayinī175 and Bimbisāra. [There is also the following story.] The people of Rājagṛha were jealous of Āmrapālī’s beauty and put a beautiful woman named Sālavatī to replace her. She gave birth to a boy named Jīvaka Kumāra and a girl named Śrīmā,176 and everyone was captivated by Sālavatī. When she died, the Buddha said that her body should be left alone. After a few days, seeing it decomposing and infested with worms, many attained the fruition. I think there is a similar story in our Pile of Jewels [Sūtra]. It is said that the people of Rājagṛha respected Kāśyapa greatly. Thus, a woman first offered alms to the Teacher by mistake, then snatched it back from the Teacher’s hands and offered it to Kāśyapa. Because of that, Kāśyapa always stayed behind in the monastery and did not go into town.
In general, because all the stories in the Hīnayāna [scriptures] are narrated in an ordinary way, when the deeds of the Buddha are recounted, they are always quite moving. The majority of what appears in the Mahāyāna sūtras is excessively elaborate. Thus, apart from the extremely wise and the extremely stupid, it is difficult for them to appeal to the minds of all common people. I will not write about the disparities in the life of the Teacher [between the Pāli and the Mahāyāna sūtras]. Similarly, their sūtras use so many amazing analogies that it can be very confusing. For example, there was once a man who, having heard that Gautama did not react to either praise or blame, went before the Teacher and spoke abusively until he was exhausted. Then, the Teacher asked, “If a recipient does not take possession of a gift, then whose property does that gift become?” The person thought about this and replied, “It then becomes the property of the person who gave it.” “In that case,” the Buddha responded, “I have not taken possession of the harsh words you just uttered, thus they are yours now.”
Similarly, once someone called Mālunkyaputta posed [to the Buddha] such undetermined questions as whether saṃsāra has a beginning and end, saying that if these were not decided he would return to being a layman. The Teacher responded, “If a person were struck without warning by a poisonous arrow from somewhere in a great forest, he must immediately extract the arrow and tend to the wound. Instead, if he analyzes, wondering ‘who shot the arrow; what is it made from?’ and so forth, he will die. In the same way, with respect to conditioned suffering and the method to overcome it, if you do not cultivate introspective awareness, but analyze whether [saṃsāra] has a beginning and end, this would be a waste of one’s life.” There are many accounts like this. I don’t know whether or not you want to listen to them. It would be quite difficult to ask you to do so, so I shall stop here.
You might wonder what kind of language all these scriptures, such as the Sthavira sūtras, are in. They are in Prakrit, an ancient language of Magadha. They call it Pāli, which means “established everyday use.” The Pāli language is a form of Sanskrit, but because the sounds have become softer, most of the r sounds are lost. Also, letters that are difficult to pronounce like kṣa are read as kha and so on. A very clear example of this language is found in the first section of the great commentary Stainless Light (Vimalaprabhā), where one reads, “Now, stated in the Magadha language of the Tripiṭaka of the śrāvakas, it is thus: iti pi so bhagavā arahaṃ sammāsaṃbuddho vijjācaraṇasampanno sugato lokavidū anuttaro [purisadammasārathī satthā devamanussānaṃ buddho bhagavāti]. It is thus: ‘He is the Blessed One, the completely and perfectly awakened one, reasoned, reverent, the Sugata, the knower of the world, and unsurpassed.’ ” Please look at this [passage] there. The Sthaviras maintain that this was the common language of all the people of Magadha in the central land when the Buddha was alive.
Regarding how long the teaching will remain, they maintain that it will be for five thousand years. Now, up to this Wood Monkey Year of the sixteenth rabjung cycle [1944], it has been two thousand four hundred and eighty-six years since the Teacher passed away. The year of the nirvāṇa is the Fire Snake Year according to the Chinese calendar. In general, that it had been over two thousand three hundred years since the Buddha’s passing is well established by statements in the travel account of the Yavana [Greek] minister Megasthenes, who arrived in central India during the period of King Aśoka’s [grand]father, Candragupta, where he wrote about seeing ordained Buddhist monks. That it is not more than two thousand five hundred years can be discerned from the fact that in many scriptures, such as the White Lotus of Compassion (Karuṇāpuṇḍarīka), [the Buddha] says, “One hundred years after my passing, Aśoka will appear.” Even at the latest, it is certain that Aśoka appeared within three hundred years after the Teacher’s passing. This chronology, therefore, has great significance. In general, the śrāvaka sects of the past were renowned for counting each month and each day since the Teacher’s passing. However, on this issue, some great Tibetan scholars of the past disparaged them, asserting that the alms-begging śrāvaka monks confused the date of the birth of the Buddha and the creation of the Mahābodhi image at Bodh Gayā and calculated the year of the Buddha’s birth on that erroneous basis. In their own system, these Tibetans add around a thousand more years.