Toh 75The Noble Mahāyāna Sūtra “The Questions of Gaṅgottarā”

Summary

In The Questions of Gaṅgottarā, a laywoman named
Gaṅgottarā leaves her home in the city of Śrāvastī and visits the Buddha Śākyamuni in
Prince Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍada’s Park. The Buddha asks her from where she has come,
sparking a dialogue on the true nature of things. Among other things, they discuss the
fact that, from the perspective of ultimate truth, all things, including Gaṅgottarā
herself, are like magical creations, and thus no one comes or goes or pursues nirvāṇa.
After their dialogue, the Buddha smiles. When Ānanda asks him why, he explains that a
thousand tathāgatas of the past have already taught this discourse at this same location
to a thousand different laywomen, all named Gaṅgottarā; and that through it they have all
achieved nirvāṇa. The sūtra concludes with a brief explanation of the reasons why the
present laywoman named Gaṅgottarā received this teaching and how it should be remembered
in the future.

Acknowledgements

The initial draft was completed by Sophie McGrath and reviewed by Laura Goetz, who
offered various suggestions. The translation was then revised and edited by David
Fiordalis, who also expanded the introduction and the notes.

The translation was completed under the patronage and supervision of 84000:
Translating the Words of the Buddha. Dawn Collins copyedited the text. Martina Cotter was
in charge of the digital publication process.

Introduction

The Questions of Gaṅgottarā is a short but
sophisticated dialogue that opens with a laywoman named Gaṅgottarā leaving her home in
the city of Śrāvastī and going to visit the Buddha Śākyamuni, who is dwelling nearby
in Prince Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍada’s Park. When she arrives, the Buddha asks her,
“from where have you come?” and this question sparks a dialogue between them on the
true nature of things. They discuss the fact that all things, including Gaṅgottarā
herself, are like magical creations, and thus, from the perspective of ultimate truth,
no one comes or goes or pursues nirvāṇa. They also discuss the implications of this
idea for the ontological status of concepts found in basic Buddhist teaching, such as
the five aggregates, dependent arising, rebirth in hells and heavens, even nirvāṇa
itself. They then discuss some of the related implications for ethical themes, such as
good and bad deeds, virtue, purity and impurity, and the correct practice of the
path.

The sūtra is thus noteworthy not only for its teachings, but also for the fact
that it features a woman as one of its main characters, and a laywoman at that—a
laywoman who has the intellectual aptitude and fortitude to engage in a challenging
philosophical discussion with the Buddha. Peter Skilling, who has also
published a translation of this sūtra into English, compares it with the scene in
The Teaching of Vimalakīrti wherein the goddess who
lives in Vimalakīrti’s house engages Śāriputra in a sophisticated dialogue that is in
some ways comparable to the one in this sūtra. At one point in that
sūtra, however, the goddess magically transforms Śāriputra into a goddess to
demonstrate her point that all things are like magical illusions. There is no such
marvelous demonstration in this sūtra, unless we count the episode at the end wherein
the gods produce divine flowers and sandalwood powders with which to worship the
Buddha. However, that action does not seem intended to emphasize the idea that all
things are like magical illusions. Additionally, the dialogue in the present sūtra is
between the Buddha and a human woman, and the gender roles are the reverse of those
found in The Teaching of Vimalakīrti, with the Buddha
Śākyamuni in the teacher role and the laywoman Gaṅgottarā as the student.

After Gaṅgottarā’s discussion with the Buddha has concluded, he smiles. When
Ānanda asks him why, the Buddha states that a thousand tathāgatas of the past have
already given this same teaching at this same location in the past to a thousand
different laywomen, all named Gaṅgottarā, and that all of these women practiced the
path and achieved parinirvāṇa. Skilling points out the remarkable nature of this
statement, which has the effect of emphasizing not only that many laywomen have
received profound teachings from the Buddha but also that they have achieved nirvāṇa,
the goal of the path.

Although the nirvāṇa that these women achieve is not the “unsurpassable and
perfect awakening” of a buddha, but rather the “remainderless nirvāṇa” of a “worthy
one” (arhat), there is no explicit
claim made in the sūtra that this is somehow a lesser accomplishment. That it will be
Gaṅgottarā’s future achievement is also suggested by the description of the light rays
that issue from the Buddha’s smile, which the canonical version depicts as returning
to disappear into the Buddha’s mouth. In other common descriptions of the Buddha’s
smile, this indicates that the Buddha is giving a prediction of someone’s future
awakening as a disciple (śrāvaka). In this way, the sūtra also combines
two of the circumstances in which the Buddha smiles: he describes something that has
happened in the same location in the past, and he gives a prediction of someone’s
future awakening.

The strength and achievements of the laywoman Gaṅgottarā are also explicitly
emphasized in the sūtra in another way. After the Buddha has smiled and given a brief
explanation of how the sūtra should be remembered in the future, the narrator mentions
a number of monks and nuns as being present in the audience, along with various gods
and divine beings. These gods express wonder at the laywoman Gaṅgottarā of the present
narrative and they praise her for her ability to converse with the Buddha without
becoming weary. They explain this by saying that she has practiced virtue and the holy
life for a long time and served many buddhas in the past, and that this is why she has
now received this teaching. The sūtra concludes with the Buddha confirming what the
gods have said and everyone rejoicing at the Buddha’s words.

There are no known extant Sanskrit witnesses to this sūtra, but translations
of it, ostensibly made from Sanskrit manuscripts, are preserved in the Tibetan Kangyur
and the Chinese Tripiṭaka. In both the Tibetan and Chinese canons, the sūtra is
classified as part of the collection of sūtras known as The Great
Heap of Jewels (Mahāratnakūṭa).
The Chinese translation has been attributed to Bodhiruci, who was active in the early
eighth century and who may have been responsible for compiling the Ratnakūṭa
collection as we know it today. A
translation of the Chinese is also available in English. The colophon to the
canonical Tibetan translation states that the sūtra was translated by Dānaśīla and
Jinamitra, along with Yeshé Dé, all of whom flourished in the late eighth or early
ninth century. Its relatively early date of translation into Tibetan is also supported
by its inclusion in the Denkarma (lhan kar ma), the
catalog of Tibetan translations compiled in the ninth century. It is not
mentioned in the Phangthangma (’phang thang ma).

No citations or references to this sūtra have as yet been discovered in other
canonical works of Buddhist literature, as Skilling has noted. Another complete
Tibetan translation of this sūtra can be found among the Dunhuang manuscripts. A comparison reveals that the Tibetan translation in this Dunhuang
manuscript would seem to be quite closely related to the Chinese translation by
Bodhiruci. In fact, Jonathan Silk has even argued that it was made directly from the
Chinese translation. The precise relationship between all three translations
requires more detailed analysis, but for the purposes of further comparison and the
reader’s edification, we have included translations and transcriptions of many
passages from the Dunhuang manuscript in the notes to our present translation from the
Kangyur.

For the main text of the canonical Tibetan, we have based our translation on
the edition in the Degé Kangyur in consultation with the Pedurma Comparative Edition
(dpe bsdur ma) and the edition in the Stok Palace
Kangyur (stog pho brang).

The Translation

The Noble Mahāyāna Sūtra

The Questions of Gaṅgottarā

Homage to all
buddhas and bodhisattvas!

Thus did I hear at one time. The Blessed One was dwelling in Śrāvastī, in
Prince Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍada’s Park. At that time a laywoman named Gaṅgottarā
was living in the great city of Śrāvastī.

One day, the laywoman Gaṅgottarā left Śrāvastī and went to Prince Jeta’s
Grove, Anāthapiṇḍada’s Park. When she arrived, she bowed
down before the Blessed One with her head at his feet, and then she sat to one
side.

Once she had sat down, the Blessed One asked the laywoman Gaṅgottarā a
question, even though he already knew the answer: “From
where have you just come, Gaṅgottarā?”

“Blessed One,” Gaṅgottarā replied, “if someone were to ask a magically created
being, ‘From where have you just come?’ what would be the answer?”

“Gaṅgottarā,” responded the Blessed One, “a magically created being neither
stands nor sits. It does not lie down. It does not come or go. It does not die. It is
not born. So, how could one declare that it has come from some place?”

“Blessed One, are all things like magical creations?” asked Gaṅgottarā.

“It is so, Gaṅgottarā.”

“Blessed One,” she responded, “if all things are like magical creations, why
do you ask, ‘Laywoman Gaṅgottarā, from where have you just come?’ ”

“Gaṅgottarā,” the Blessed One answered, “since magically created beings do not go to the lower realms, and they do not go to
the higher realms, and they do not go to parinirvāṇa, do you, too, Gaṅgottarā, not go
to the lower realms, or go to the higher realms, or go to parinirvāṇa?”

“Blessed One,” Gaṅgottarā replied, “if I truly saw the laywoman Gaṅgottarā as
being different in nature from a magical creation, then it would not be appropriate
for me to compare myself to a magically created being by saying, ‘The laywoman
Gaṅgottarā does not go to the lower realms, does not go to the higher realms, and does
not go to parinirvāṇa.’ Nevertheless, Blessed One, I do not see myself as being
different in nature from a magical creation. Since I do not see myself in that way, Blessed One, how
can I declare in this way that the laywoman Gaṅgottarā goes to the lower realms, goes
to the higher realms, or goes to parinirvāṇa?

“Even with this being the case, Blessed One, it is in accordance with the
presence of mental straying, mental conceit, mental agitation, and vain imagining that
one thinks the thoughts, ‘I go to the lower realms,’ ‘I go to the higher realms,’ and
‘I go to
parinirvāṇa.’
Blessed One, the state of nirvāṇa is such that it never goes
to the lower realms, it never goes to the higher realms, and it never goes to
parinirvāṇa. The laywoman Gaṅgottarā has a similar state, Blessed One.”

“Gaṅgottarā,” the Blessed One responded, “have you not set out for
parinirvāṇa?”

“Blessed One,” Gaṅgottarā replied, “if someone were to ask what is not born,
‘Have you not set out for parinirvāṇa?’ what would be the answer?”

“Gaṅgottarā,” the Blessed One said, “since the phrase ‘what is not born’ is a
designation for nirvāṇa, what would be the answer?”

“Blessed One,” Gaṅgottarā replied, “are all things the same as nirvāṇa?”

“It is so, Gaṅgottarā,” he said. “All things are the same as nirvāṇa.”

“If all things are the same as nirvāṇa, then why, Blessed One, do you ask,
‘Gaṅgottarā, have you not set out for parinirvāṇa?’ Blessed One, if someone were to
ask a magically created being, ‘Have you not set out for parinirvāṇa?’ what would be
the answer?”

“Gaṅgottarā,” the Blessed One responded, “this question does not have an
objective basis.”

“Do the words that the Blessed One has spoken have some connection to an
objective basis?” asked Gaṅgottarā.

“Gaṅgottarā,” the Blessed One answered, “even though this question does not
have an objective basis, nevertheless, asking it will be of great benefit to the noble
sons and noble daughters who are gathered here in this assembly. Why is this? When the Tathāgata had not awakened directly and
completely even to what is called the true nature of things, Gaṅgottarā, how much less
would there be a thing arising from it that remains in parinirvāṇa?”

“If the Tathāgata had not awakened directly and completely even to what is
called the true nature of things, and even less would there be a thing arising from
it,” she replied, “how did the Blessed One properly plant roots of virtue in order to
achieve awakening?”

“Gaṅgottarā,” the Blessed One responded, “a root of virtue is not something
that has an objective basis. During the time when the Bodhisattva was planting the
roots of virtue, he never let go of inconceivability. During the time when he was not
planting them, he also did not let go of inconceivability.”

“With respect to the inconceivable, Blessed One, why is the inconceivable
called the inconceivable?” asked Gaṅgottarā.

“Gaṅgottarā,” the Blessed One answered, “this teaching is not to be attained
by the mind; it cannot be attained by the mind. Why is this? According to this teaching, when not even
the mind itself has an objective basis, how much less so would the things that arise
from the mind? The mind’s lack of an objective basis, Gaṅgottarā,
is what is called the continuous stream of the inconceivable. That which is the continuous stream of the
inconceivable is not attained. It is not fully realized. It is not known. It is not
something to be experienced directly. It is not something to be attained. It is not
afflicted. It is not purified. Why is this? It is because, Gaṅgottarā, the Tathāgata
knows with certainty that all things are like space. All things, Gaṅgottarā, are
unobstructed, just like space.”

“Blessed One,” Gaṅgottarā asked, “if all things are unobstructed, just like
space, then why does the Blessed One use verbal expressions like ‘form,’ ‘feeling,’
‘conception,’ ‘formation,’ and ‘consciousness,’ as well as verbal expressions like
‘the aggregates,’ ‘the elements,’ and ‘the sense spheres’; ‘dependent arising’; ‘the
intoxicated’ and ‘what is free of intoxication’; ‘the afflicted’ and ‘the purified’;
and ‘saṃsāra’ and ‘nirvāṇa’?”

“Gaṅgottarā,” the Blessed One replied, “just as one uses the expression ‘self’
even though the self has no objective basis at all, in precisely the same way,
Gaṅgottarā, I use the expression ‘form,’ even though form has no objective basis at
all. In the same way, too, I use the expressions ‘feeling,’ ‘conception,’ ‘formation,’
and ‘consciousness,’ even though consciousness has no objective basis at all. I also
use the expressions ‘the aggregates,’ ‘the elements,’ and ‘the sense spheres’;
‘dependent arising’; ‘the intoxicated’ and ‘what is free of intoxication’; ‘the
afflicted’ and ‘the purified’; and ‘saṃsāra’ and ‘nirvāṇa,’ even though nirvāṇa has no
objective basis at all.

“Gaṅgottarā, just as a mirage does not produce water and has no objective
basis at all, in precisely the same way, Gaṅgottarā, I use the expression ‘form,’ even
though form has no objective basis at all. In the same way, too, I use the expressions
‘feeling,’ ‘conception,’ ‘formation,’ and ‘consciousness,’ even though consciousness
has no objective basis at all. I also use the expressions ‘the aggregates,’ ‘the
elements,’ ‘the sense spheres’; ‘dependent arising’; ‘the intoxicated’ and ‘what is
free of intoxication’; ‘the afflicted’ and ‘the purified’; and ‘saṃsāra’ and
‘nirvāṇa,’ even though ultimately not one of these things exists or has any objective
basis.

“One who practices the holy life without holding on to the Dharma as the final
word, Gaṅgottarā, dwells in the practice of the holy life according to the well-stated
Dharma and Discipline.
There are some who
have self-conceit, Gaṅgottarā, who practice the holy life while thinking that their
abiding by it has an objective basis, and I say that their practice of the holy life
is not completely purified. When they hear a profound teaching such as this one on cutting off
the continuous stream, those who do not practice the holy life with complete purity
become terrified, and they do not become free from birth, old age, sickness, death,
sorrow, lamentation, suffering, distress, and conflict; they receive their share of
suffering, I say.

“Whether now or after I have passed away, Gaṅgottarā, there will be those who
teach this kind of profound teaching on cutting off the continuous stream, and
ignorant people will come to conceive the idea that they have the intent to kill them.
Due to their misunderstanding, these ignorant people thus come to generate a homicidal
hatred and go to the lower realms.”

“ ‘Cutting off the continuous stream, cutting off the continuous stream,’ ”
Gaṅgottarā replied. “Blessed One, what is it that you call cutting off the
continuous stream?”

“Gaṅgottarā,” the Blessed One answered, “this teaching does not cut off the
continuous stream; it is not the disintegration of it; it is not the destruction of
it. For this reason, it should be called cutting off the continuous
stream. It should also be called the ultimate
endpoint. It should be called the continuous stream of the
inconceivable.”

Then, at that moment, the Blessed One displayed a smile. Various multicolored
rays of light issued from the Blessed One’s mouth in such a way that blue, yellow,
red, white, rose madder, crystalline, and silvery rays of light spread throughout
endless, limitless world systems, reaching as far as the Brahmā realm, and then they
returned and disappeared into the Blessed One’s mouth.

At that point, the venerable Ānanda draped his upper robe over one shoulder,
knelt on his right knee, and then, joining his palms together in a gesture of respect
toward the Blessed One, he paid homage to the Blessed One and said this: “Blessed One, the
tathāgatas do not display their smile without a reason. What is the cause? What is the
condition? Why have you displayed your smile?”

“Ānanda,” the Blessed One replied, “I have direct knowledge of the fact that, in this very place, one thousand tathāgatas
have taught this formulation of the Dharma, always starting with a single laywoman
whose name was always Gaṅgottarā. All those laywomen went forth and achieved
parinirvāṇa—that is, the state of parinirvāṇa without any remaining aggregates.”

The venerable Ānanda then asked the Blessed One, “What is the name of this
formulation of the Dharma, Blessed One? How should it be remembered?”

“Ānanda,” the Blessed One replied, “you may call this formulation of the
Dharma Stainless. Remember it as the one you may call
Stainless.”

When this Dharma discourse was taught, the minds of seven hundred monks and
four hundred nuns were freed from the intoxicants and did not grasp any more. Then the
gods of the desire realm and the gods of the form realm magically created divine
flowers and sandalwood powder and strewed them over the Blessed One while saying, “It
is marvelous that such a laywoman lives in the city of Śrāvastī! Not only does she
converse with the Tathāgata but also her body does not become weary from it. In the
very same way, this laywoman Gaṅgottarā has served victors of the past, generated
roots of virtue, practiced virtue for a long time, practiced the holy life for a long
time, and venerated many buddhas!”

“So it is, divine ones,” the Blessed One said. “For a long time, she has
served victors of the past, generated roots of virtue, and practiced the holy life.”

After the Blessed One had spoken these words, the laywoman Gaṅgottarā was
delighted, and so was the world with its gods, humans, asuras, and gandharvas, and
they rejoiced at what the Blessed One had said.

Thus concludes “The Chapter of the Questions of
Gaṅgottarā,” the thirty-first of the one hundred thousand chapters of the
formulation of the Dharma known as “The Noble Great Heap of
Jewels.”

Colophon

Translated, edited, corrected according to revised terminology, and finalized
by the Indian preceptors Jinamitra and Dānaśīla, along with the chief editor and
translator Bandé Yeshé Dé and others.

Notes

Bibliography