賢愚經

Chapter Eighteen: The Merit of Going Forth

Thus have I heard: Once the Buddha was dwelling in the kingdom of Magadha, at Rajagriha, in the Kalanda Bamboo Grove.

During this Dharma discourse, the Buddha spoke about the merit of going forth. He said:

“If anyone permits his sons or daughters, male or female servants, or other people to go forth, or himself goes forth, that merit is truly boundless. Compared with the merit of giving, even if one enjoyed blessings for ten lifetimes in the human and heavenly realms, it would still not equal the merit of enabling one person to go forth or of going forth oneself.

“Why is this so? The reward of giving is limited, whereas the merit of going forth is limitless and therefore cannot be equaled. Neither the merit of observing the precepts, nor the merit of sages possessing the five supernormal powers, nor even the utmost merit attainable in the Brahma heaven can compare with the merit of going forth in the Buddha-Dharma. Moreover, one who goes forth may attain the path of nirvana; therefore, the merit cannot be fully expressed or discussed.

“Suppose someone were to build a stupa of the seven precious substances, reaching as high as the Trayastrimsha heaven. Even that merit would not equal the merit of enabling another to go forth, for a stupa of the seven precious substances may one day be destroyed by wicked and ignorant people.

“For those seeking a wholesome Dharma, nothing surpasses the Buddha-Dharma. It is also like restoring sight to one hundred people who were blind in both eyes, or rescuing one hundred people condemned to have their eyes gouged out through the power of a mighty protector. Although the merit of those two acts of rescue is great, it does not equal the merit of enabling one person to go forth.

“The virtue of going forth is sublime. Restoring sight to those people benefits them for only one lifetime, and in time that sight will also perish.

“Those who enable others to go forth, or who themselves go forth, will, after attaining the fruit of bodhi, use the teachings of the Buddha to guide sentient beings. They will obtain the eye of wisdom, which remains imperishable throughout thousands upon thousands of kalpas, for the eye of wisdom can never be destroyed.

“Those who enjoy blessings in the human and heavenly realms merely indulge themselves and become intoxicated with sensual desire. They lack the eye of wisdom with which to discern that such things are false and unreal, that they are a deep pit of fire scorching ignorant and craving people, and that they are a concealed trap leading people toward rebirth in the evil destinies.

“The Dharma of going forth destroys the hosts of Mara, benefits the supramundane lineage of the Buddha-Dharma, nurtures wholesome qualities, removes the defilements of wrongdoing, increases merit and goodness, and leads to Buddhahood.”

The Buddha said:

“The merit of going forth is as high as Mount Sumeru, as deep as the ocean, and as vast as space.

“Whoever obstructs a person who has resolved to go forth will incur the offense of falling into a dark hell and being without eyes. Just as the waters of every great and small river, channel, creek, spring, and pond all flow into the ocean, so too will the karmic retribution of that person’s offenses converge upon him. The evil amassed upon his person will be like Mount Sumeru consumed and destroyed by the conflagration at the end of a kalpa. He will enter a fiery hell and be burned for an immeasurable time. It is also like comparing the poison Kalulouheni with a medicinal stone: the corresponding results of good and evil are likewise distinct.

“The merit of enabling another to go forth, or of going forth oneself, is as vast as the blue sky and as deep as the ocean. Those who go forth take the scriptures as water with which to wash away the impurities of karma and the fetters. They eliminate the suffering of birth, old age, sickness, and death, and establish the cause of the path to nirvana. They take the precepts as their feet and ascend the pure and adorned ground. They take the Vinaya as their eyes, discerning the good and evil of the world, and travel the Noble Eightfold Path to the city of nirvana. Because of these benefits, one should enable others to go forth or should oneself go forth.”

At that time there was an elder named Shilibidi—translated into Chinese as “Increase of Merit”—who was already one hundred years old. When he heard people recounting the sublime merit of going forth, he thought to himself:

“I am now old and feeble, yet the merit and virtue of going forth to cultivate the path within the Buddha-Dharma are immense. If I do not go forth, would that not be a great waste?”

Having thought this, he summoned his wife and children and said:

“You and the children may remain at home and attend to your affairs. I wish to go forth and cultivate the path. Are you willing to let me do so?”

The old man’s wife and children all disliked him because he merely consumed their provisions, could no longer perform any work, and was often irritable. They therefore rejoiced and replied:

“Yes, indeed! May you go at once. The sooner you leave, even by a single moment, the better that moment will be for us!”

He set out and asked the way to the Bamboo Grove where the Blessed One was dwelling. Unfortunately, when he arrived, the Buddha was away. He entered and asked the bhikshus:

“Venerable Ones, in which chamber is the Buddha dwelling? Please show me.”

“The Blessed One has gone elsewhere to teach and is not here.”

“Venerable Ones, since the Buddha is absent, who is his foremost disciple?”

They all pointed toward Venerable Shariputra. The old man hobbled over with the aid of his staff, laid it upon the ground, joined his palms, bowed, and said:

“Most Venerable One, I have come here with wholehearted sincerity and reverence to request permission to go forth and study the path. I humbly implore you, in your compassion, to accept me. I would be immeasurably grateful.”

Venerable Shariputra looked him over and thought:

“This man is old and feeble. Of the three tasks—studying, practicing seated meditation, and assisting the Sangha—he cannot perform even one. His cultivation would be of no benefit.”

Having thought this, he replied:

“You are already far too old and weak. You cannot go forth.”

The old man then went to Venerable Mahakashyapa, Venerable Upali, Venerable Anuruddha, and finally to five hundred arhats. They all asked him:

“Have you already made this request to anyone?”

He told each of them:

“First I sought the Blessed One, but he was not at the monastery. I then appealed to Venerable Shariputra, but he said that I was far too old and feeble to go forth.”

They all replied:

“Venerable Shariputra is foremost in wisdom, yet even he did not dare accept you into the order of those who have gone forth. We likewise cannot do so. It is like a skilled physician who knows that a patient cannot be cured; all other physicians can only fold their arms, for how could they possibly cure him? How could they possibly deliver him?”

Perhaps the signs of the old man’s impending death had already appeared, and for this reason Venerable Shariputra would not ordain him; all the other bhikshus likewise refused.

Unable to obtain permission to go forth, Shilibidi went outside the gate of the Bamboo Grove. Weeping alone, he murmured:

“Since I was born as a human being, I have never committed any grave offense. Why, then, am I alone denied permission to go forth? Upali was a man of lowly caste; Nidhi was a hired night-soil carrier; Angulimala murdered many people; and Dasaki was a wicked bandit, yet all of them were permitted to go forth. What offense have I committed that I am not allowed to go forth?”

As he lamented alone, the Buddha suddenly appeared before him. He beheld dazzling radiance and a dignified countenance resembling that of Lord Shakra in the palace of the Trayastrimsha heaven.

The Buddha asked:

“Shilibidi, why are you weeping?”

Overwhelmed with joy, he immediately bowed his head at the Buddha’s feet and, weeping, said:

“Revered Blessed One! Among sentient beings there are murderers, bandits, liars, slanderers, and people of lowly station, yet all of them have been permitted to go forth. I have examined my life: since being born as a human being, I have now lived for one hundred years without ever committing any evil deed, yet the bhikshus will not accept me and allow me to go forth! Revered Blessed One, at home my wife and children despise me. I came here to take refuge beneath the shade of your compassion, but you were not at the monastery, and the bhikshus refused me because I was too old. Returning home would now be miserable, so I wish to end my life here.”

The Buddha asked:

“Who said that one person may go forth but another may not because he is old?”

“Revered Blessed One, it was your foremost disciple, Shariputra.”

The Buddha comforted him, saying:

“Do not grieve any longer. I shall permit you to go forth and cultivate. Shariputra is not one who diligently practiced difficult deeds throughout three great asamkhyeya kalpas and cultivated merit for one hundred kalpas.

He is not one who, lifetime after lifetime, diligently performed exceedingly difficult deeds such as cutting off his head, gouging out his eyes, splitting his bones to extract marrow and brain, cutting off his flesh and draining his blood, flaying his skin, breaking the bones of his limbs, and cutting off his nose as gifts. He is not one who sacrificed himself to save a starving tigress, leapt into a deep pit of fire, drove one thousand nails into his body to hear the Dharma, or bored one thousand holes into his body to burn lamps.

He is not one who gave away kingdoms, cities, wives, children, servants, elephants, horses, and the seven precious substances. He is not one who, during the first asamkhyeya kalpa, made offerings to eighty-eight thousand Buddhas, and during the last asamkhyeya kalpa made offerings to a hundred thousand kotis of Buddhas, going forth and fully observing the precepts.

“Shariputra has no sovereignty over the Dharma by which he may say, ‘This person may go forth, but that person may not.’ I alone possess sovereignty over the Dharma. Riding the vehicle of the six paramitas, wearing the armor of patience, and seated upon the vajra throne beneath the bodhi tree, I subdued Mara and became the unsurpassed Dharma King. None is equal to me. Set your mind at ease and follow me back to the monastery. I shall permit you to go forth.”

After the Blessed One had comforted him, the old man’s affliction vanished, and his heart became joyful and light. He followed the Buddha back.

When they reached the monastery, the Buddha summoned Mahamaudgalyayana and entrusted the old man to him, charging him with teaching, guiding, shaving, and ordaining him.

With his eye of wisdom, the Buddha perceived which sentient beings had affinities with which teachers, and only those teachers could deliver them. Thus, those with affinities with the Buddha were delivered by the Buddha and could not be delivered by another. Those with affinities with another teacher were delivered by that teacher and could not be delivered by the Buddha. Those with affinities with Venerable Shariputra were delivered by Shariputra; how could Venerable Maudgalyayana, Venerable Kashyapa, Venerable Aniruddha, Venerable Kimbila, or any of the shravakas deliver them when they had no affinity with those venerable ones? In brief, one can deliver those who have affinities with oneself; those without such affinities cannot be delivered by oneself.

Venerable Maudgalyayana obeyed the Buddha and accepted responsibility for the old man, but thought to himself:

“This old man is advanced in years and feeble. Of the three tasks—reciting scriptures, practicing seated meditation, and assisting the Sangha—he cannot accomplish even one. Yet the Buddha has entrusted him to me; how could I dare disobey his command?”

Several days later, he shaved the old man’s head, brought him to the ordination platform, and conferred upon him the full precepts.

Although the old man was aged, in past lives he had planted wholesome roots in the Buddha-Dharma and had cultivated the merits, virtues, and Dharma methods of Buddhism. Therefore, although he went forth late in this life, his keen intelligence enabled him to learn and understand very quickly.

From the time his head was shaved and he went forth as a shramana, he diligently practiced day and night. He clearly understood all he heard, and before long he awakened.

Nevertheless, because he was old and weak, he did not fully observe the proper deportment and courtesies due to senior monks. The younger bhikshus saw his coarse behavior and lack of monastic decorum, and sometimes admonished or rebuked him. He, however, became proud and arrogant, relying upon his advanced age and broad learning, and refused to attend upon them respectfully. Seeing them behave toward him in this way, he thought:

“When I was a householder, my wife and children despised and tormented me. I went forth hoping to find a place of peace and happiness, away from the hostile eyes of worldly entanglement. Who would have imagined that I would instead be scorned by young bhikshus? I do not know what offense I committed to deserve this. They have merely added to my afflictions. It would be better to end my life and be finished with everything.”

He then went into a forest where there was a deep and swiftly flowing river. He removed his kashaya robe and hung it upon a tree branch. Kneeling upright with palms joined, he faced the robe and, weeping, made this vow:

“I shall relinquish my life here, but I shall not abandon the Buddha, Dharma, or Sangha. I offer this robe to the bhikshus who purely observe the precepts and diligently cultivate. By relinquishing this body, may I be born into a wealthy and joyful family whose members live harmoniously and do not obstruct any wholesome Dharma I wish to practice. May I encounter the Three Jewels, go forth and cultivate the path, meet an enlightened teacher and virtuous friends who explain the profound and wondrous principles to me, and successfully cultivate the path of liberation and peace.”

He then leapt into the river.

At that time, Venerable Maudgalyayana was in the Bamboo Grove. With his divine eye, he looked to see what his elderly disciple was doing and suddenly saw him leap into the river. Using his supernormal power, he pulled him onto the bank, flew to where he was, and asked:

“Dharma son, what are you doing?”

Shilibidi looked up and saw his teacher. He was deeply ashamed and did not know what words to use in answering him. He thought:

“I must not lie to my teacher, or in life after life I shall incur the retribution of having no tongue. Moreover, my teacher possesses supernormal powers and knows things beforehand; even if I lie, he will know. In this world, wise and intelligent people who are honest and upright are revered even by the devas. If a wise person is deceitful at heart, he may still serve as a teacher and receive people’s offerings. One who lacks wisdom but is upright may be unable to help others, yet has at least saved himself. But one who is both foolish and deceitful is scorned and reviled as base; whatever he says, people regard him as a fraud and do not trust him. Thus, lying to my teacher would certainly bring me no good.”

He said:

“Teacher, I had become weary of worldly entanglements and went forth in search of peace and happiness. Instead of finding happiness, however, I found only many afflictions. Therefore, I wished to end my life here. Please forgive my offense.”

Venerable Maudgalyayana thought:

“If I do not use a frightening expedient with this old man, his going forth will bear no fruit.”

Having thought this, he said:

“Dharma son, grasp the corner of my kashaya robe firmly. When we fly into the sky, maintain right mindfulness and do not allow your thoughts to become confused.”

“Yes, teacher. I shall obey your instruction.”

The old man carefully grasped his robe, and the venerable one soared into the sky like a fierce gust of wind. The disciple clung to his robe like dust swept up by a gale, or like a wisp of cotton drifting through space. In a single instant they reached the great ocean.

Venerable Maudgalyayana descended to the shore, and teacher and disciple walked along the beach. They encountered the newly dead body of a young woman lying exposed beneath the sun. Swarms of flies covered it. They saw a worm crawl out and then enter a nostril, later emerge through both eyes, pass from the eyes into the ears, and continue in this manner. It was dreadful to behold. The venerable one stopped and practiced contemplation; after completing it, he continued onward.

“Venerable Master, why did this young woman die here? And why does that worm crawl in and out of her body in this way?”

“I shall explain it to you shortly.”

After they had walked several miles, they saw a woman carrying a bronze cauldron to the seashore. She filled it with water, kindled a fire, and boiled the water furiously. She removed her clothes and leapt into the cauldron. Her hair fell out, her limbs disintegrated, and her bones and flesh were torn apart as her entire body was boiled to a pulp. The water boiled so violently that her bones and flesh were cast outside the cauldron. A gust of wind then caused her skin and flesh to rejoin, restoring her former human form. The woman repeatedly tore flesh from her own body, placed it in her mouth, and ate it as though it were delicious.

The elderly disciple was terrified and asked:

“Venerable Master, what offense did this woman commit to suffer in this way? Please explain it clearly to me.”

“Wait a little. I shall explain it to you shortly.”

After they had walked several more miles, they saw a huge tree completely covered with worms. Worms were burrowing into every part of it, even its branches and leaves. They also heard cries of anguish so tremendous that the earth seemed to quake, like the cries in hell. Terrified, the disciple asked:

“Venerable Master, who is crying out, and for what reason?”

“Wait a little. I shall explain it later.”

Teacher and disciple continued onward. Before long, they saw a great mountain upon which countless sharp knives and swords stood with their points directed toward the sky, as densely arrayed as rows of trees. They also saw a man rolling from the summit to the foot of the mountain. The knives and swords pierced and mangled his body, and blood flowed everywhere in a horrifying spectacle. Whenever a knife or sword was knocked over, the man raised it upright again, climbed back to the summit, and rolled down once more. He continued in this way without cease.

Terrified, the disciple asked:

“Venerable Master, why does this man suffer in this way?”

“Wait. I shall tell you when the time comes.”

Beyond that mountain, they saw a huge man surrounded by the forms of the heads of terrifying beasts. They also saw evil ghosts and spirits holding bows or crossbows. Each arrow had three barbs and a sharp iron point coated with poison and blazing red. Competing with one another, they shot at the man until his body was burned black and gray, while he cried out miserably.

Terrified, the disciple asked:

“Venerable Master, what offense did this man commit to suffer like this?”

“Wait. I shall tell you later.”

After they had walked several more miles, teacher and disciple saw a great mountain composed entirely of bones, without any soil or rock. It was seven hundred yojanas high and obscured the light of the sun, making that region of the sea utterly dark. They climbed the mountain and strolled leisurely along its slope.

Shilibidi thought, “If I ask now about the things we have just seen, perhaps my teacher will explain them.” He then asked:

“Venerable Master, please recount those matters and explain them clearly to me.”

“Dharma son, listen carefully. I shall clearly explain the causes of everything we have just seen.”

“Yes, I shall listen attentively.”

“The first was the dead woman lying on the seashore. She was the wife of a merchant named Satbac from the kingdom of Shravasti. She was beautiful, and her husband loved her dearly. When Satbac set out to trade, his love for his wife was so great that he took her with him. Together with five hundred merchants, they sailed upon the sea.

“The woman frequently adorned herself with powder, rouge, hairpins, and combs. She continually looked at and caressed herself, and when she saw her beautiful face in a mirror, she became proud and increasingly attached to her own beauty.

“While their ship was sailing, they encountered a giant turtle. It struck the ship, broke open its hull, and sank it to the bottom of the sea. Everyone died. The sea does not retain corpses, so yakshas and rakshasas stirred up waves and winds that cast the bodies onto the shore.

“Sentient beings are reborn according to the objects of their attachment and recollection at the moment of death. Because this woman loved and cherished the beauty of her own face, she was reborn as a worm so that she might continue looking at it. Therefore, the worm continually wanders out through the mouth, enters the nose, passes into the ears, and crawls into the eyes, unable to gain release.

“If someone asks, ‘If beings are born wherever their minds are attached and defiled by craving, who would love hell and wish to enter it to suffer?’ one should answer as follows:

“Those who during life steal the property of the Three Jewels or of their parents, or who commit murder, incur extremely grave offenses and must fall into a fiery hell. Such a person first contracts an illness of cold wind that torments body and mind. Because his body is cold, his diseased mind constantly thinks of warmth and longs to find a place where there is fire. If he dies while absorbed in that thought, his consciousness leaves the body and, following the object of his recollection, inevitably falls into a fiery hell.

“Those who steal lamps offered before the Buddha or other sacred objects; steal from the Sangha lamps, torches, firewood, or grass; destroy the Sangha’s dwellings or lecture halls; strip clothes from people in the freezing winter; abuse their power in cold weather by punishing people through pouring water over their heads until they freeze to death; or rob people and strip away their clothing will, as karmic retribution, fall into the freezing hells.

“Such people first contract a feverish illness that makes their bodies intensely hot. They constantly think of coolness, and if they die while absorbed in this thought, their consciousness leaves the body and immediately falls into a cold hell, such as the Utpala, Padma, Kumuda, and Pundarika hells. In these freezing hells, offenders endure piercing cold. Their bodies dry up like roasted beans, their brains and marrow become like roasted rice, the bones of their skulls shatter into hundreds of thousands of fragments, and the bones of their bodies splinter like sharpened arrows.

“Those who are stingy and greedy, seize the possessions of others, cause others to starve to death, or eat and drink at improper times will fall into the realm of hungry ghosts. Such a person first contracts an illness of the vital energies: his belly swells, and he cannot digest food or drink. The physician examines him and coaxes him with various foods, saying, ‘This is delicious, this is sweet, and this is sour; it will aid your digestion. Try to eat, and your illness will be cured.’ The patient becomes angry and says, ‘I am disgusted! I am afraid! If only my eyes never had to see these foods again!’ If he dies while absorbed in that thought, his consciousness leaves the body and, following his state of mind, falls among the hungry ghosts.

“There are also foolish people who do not believe in the Three Jewels, who slander or disparage them, and who do not follow the proper way of human life. Fathers and daughters, mothers and sons, brothers, sisters, and relatives engage indiscriminately in sexual misconduct; or they are unfilial and do not believe in offenses, merit, and the like.

“When ill, such a person lies curled up like a dog and cannot straighten his body. This results from the force of his karma. He has no wish to hear wholesome words. Knowing that he is about to die, his parents, siblings, and relatives urge him:

“‘Shall we recite sutras for you? Shall we take refuge in the Buddha on your behalf? You should reverently contemplate an image of the Buddha, and we should invite members of the Sangha to teach the Dharma for you. Strive to recollect the Buddha so that your offenses may be removed and you may gain abundant merit. Shall we give these possessions away to seek blessings for you?’

“Although they advise him in this way, his mind remains joyless. Instead, he angrily and maliciously says, ‘I vow never to hear such words. None of those things exists for me. There is no merit whatsoever. Death is the end of everything.’

“When that person dies and his consciousness leaves the body, he falls into the animal realm, for animals lack culture and morality and do not honor parents, siblings, or relatives. This rebirth is likewise brought about by his own thoughts.

“If someone delights in cultivating goodness, plants the causes for human rebirth, and observes the five precepts, illness will not torment his body and mind at death, nor will his thoughts become confused. Knowing that he is about to die, his relatives ask:

“‘Would you like to hear the sutras and the Dharma? Would you like to contemplate an image of the Buddha? Would you like to meet members of the Sangha and hear them teach the Dharma? Would you like to receive vegetarian food and undertake the precepts? Would you like to make offerings to the Three Jewels?’

“The patient replies, ‘Excellent! I greatly wish to do so!’

“They then continue:

“‘By reciting sutras and contemplating an image of the Buddha, you will attain the path to Buddhahood. By making offerings and printing Dharma scriptures, you will be born everywhere with lofty and brilliant wisdom and will thoroughly understand the characteristics of all dharmas. By making offerings to the Sangha, you will be born everywhere wealthy, honored, and happy, with everything you desire.’

“After hearing this, the patient joyfully makes a vow:

“‘Wherever I may be born, may I encounter the Three Jewels, hear the Dharma, and awaken to the path.’

“After death, that person is reborn as a human being.

“If someone plants the causes of the ten wholesome deeds in order to seek rebirth in heaven, purely observes the precepts, practices generosity, delights in hearing sutras and the Dharma, and diligently cultivates the ten deeds—not killing, not stealing, not engaging in sexual misconduct, not lying, not speaking divisively, not speaking harshly, not becoming angry, and not being deluded—then at the end of his life he will be peaceful and lie upon his back. He will see the form of the Buddha and hear heavenly music. His countenance will be serene and joyful, and he will raise his hands upward. When he breathes his last, his consciousness will ascend to heaven.

“This wife of Satbac was attached to her own beauty. Therefore, at death she was reborn as a worm dwelling in her own corpse. After relinquishing the body of that worm, she will fall into hell and endure immeasurable suffering.”

“Venerable Master, why does the young woman eat her own flesh? Please explain the cause clearly to me.”

“This woman lived in the kingdom of Shravasti and was the maidservant of an upasika. The upasika vowed to make offerings to a bhikshu who purely observed the precepts throughout a ninety-day rains retreat. She built a separate dwelling for him and every day prepared delicious, fragrant, and pure food. At mealtime, she ordered the maidservant to present the food to the bhikshu. The servant, however, ate all the delicious dishes herself and offered him only the inferior leftovers.

“After some time, the upasika saw that the maidservant had grown plump and beautiful, and asked:

“‘Have you been secretly eating my teacher’s food? Why have you become so plump lately?’

“‘No, mistress. I too believe in offenses and merit; I am not a person of wrong views. How could I dare eat before the teacher? Only after he has eaten, if anything remains, do I dare eat it! I swear that if I have eaten before the teacher, then life after life may I be forced to eat my own flesh.’

“Dharma son, you should know that the maidservant had indeed secretly eaten the bhikshu’s food. She then denied it and made that oath, and therefore now undergoes the retribution of eating her own flesh. What you see today is only the corresponding retribution that appears like a flower before the fruit. Later she will fall into hell, where she will receive the actual fruit of her deed and endure endless, indescribable suffering.”

“Venerable Master, what causes the huge tree covered with burrowing worms and those terrible cries?”

“That was a bhikshu named Lailicha, who was responsible for the permanent property of the Sangha. He took the Sangha’s permanent property, fruits, food, and drink, and gave them to his siblings, relatives, and laypeople. After death, those people fell into a great hell and became the worms that burrow into and consume the tree. The tree itself is that bhikshu, Lailicha.”

“Venerable Master, what offense did the man who was shot, whose entire body burned while he cried out, commit?”

“During his life, that man was a hunter who killed many kinds of birds and beasts. Because of that offense, after death he fell into hell and now endures this painful retribution. No one knows when he will be released.”

“Venerable Master, what offense did the man rolling down from the mountaintop, his body drenched in blood, commit? Please explain it clearly to me.”

“That man lived in Rajagriha and was a great general who led the vanguard and slaughtered the people without mercy. Therefore, he now receives this retribution. Later he will fall into the great hells and endure excruciating suffering for an immeasurable time.”

“Venerable Master, what is this mountain of bones?”

“This mountain of bones is the skeleton of a Makara fish. That fish was your own former body. Because you are still an ordinary being, confused by the separation between one set of skandhas and the next, you do not recognize it.”

When Shilibidi heard this, his heart trembled. In fear, he said:

“Venerable Master, my mind remains dark and ignorant. I humbly implore you to explain what offense caused me to take birth as a fish.”

“Dharma son, you should know that the cycle of birth and death has no shore or limit, yet the karmic results of good and evil never go astray, and no one can escape them. Whatever karma one creates, one must receive its result.

“In a past life there was a king in Jambudvipa named Dharmalabdhivardhana—translated into Chinese as ‘Increase of Dharma.’ He diligently practiced generosity, observed the precepts, listened to the scriptures, possessed a compassionate heart, and was not violent or cruel. He never harmed the life of any creature and was worthy of being called a virtuous king. He governed his people according to the true Dharma.

“After he had reigned for twenty years, he was once at leisure, amusing himself with games of chance. At that time, someone committed murder, and a judge came and reported:

“‘Your Majesty, outside the city there is a man who has committed the heinous crime of murder. Please instruct your servant how he should be punished.’

“The king was absorbed in his game and did not carefully consider the matter. He replied:

“‘Punish him according to the law of the kingdom.’

“According to the law of the kingdom, anyone who killed another was sentenced to death. In compliance with the law, they took the offender away and beheaded him.

“After the game ended, the king asked his ministers:

“‘Where is that offender now? I shall judge his case.’

“‘In accordance with the law of the kingdom, the offender has already been executed.’

“When the king heard this, he was startled and terrified. He fell to the ground, and only after his attendants had supported him for a long time did he regain consciousness. Deeply distressed, he said:

“‘The palace women, elephants, and horses will all remain here, while I alone must enter hell and endure suffering. Before I became king, someone else ruled this palace. Not long after I die, another will likewise govern it. As king I have caused a person to be killed; thus, I have become a butcher king. I do not know where this deed will lead me throughout life after life and kalpa after kalpa. I am resolved to be king no longer. From this day forward, I entrust the government to you. Remain and care for the affairs of the kingdom, while I enter the mountains to cultivate the path and seek liberation.’

“After some time, that king died and was reborn as a Makara fish in the great ocean, with a body seven hundred yojanas long.

“The kings and great ministers who succeeded him relied upon their power to oppress the people and commit cruel deeds, separating wives from husbands and children from fathers and exploiting the common people. After death, they were all reborn as Makara fish. Tiny creatures lived beneath their scales and gnawed at their flesh, causing pain like iron hooks tearing into their bodies. When bitten, they rubbed themselves against crystal mountains and crushed the creatures to death, causing blood to redden the sea for one hundred miles. Because of that offense, when those fish died, they fell into hell.

“Each time such a fish slept, it slept for one hundred years. When it awoke, it was so hungry and had so little food that it opened its mouth, drawing in seawater, ships, shrimp, and fish.

“On one occasion, as it opened its mouth, a ship carrying five hundred merchants was caught in the powerful current and swept directly toward the fish’s mouth. Everyone was horrified and terrified. They wailed and cried out. Some recollected the Buddha, some recited sutras, some called upon heaven, some prayed to the earth, and some invoked spirits. Others called out to their parents, wives, and children, lamenting, ‘Today is our final moment, and we must bid farewell to the human world! Alas! Never again shall we see our families!’

“As the ship approached the fish’s mouth, their terror intensified, and many loudly recited, ‘Namo Buddha.’

“When the Makara fish heard them recollecting the Buddha, compassion arose within it, and it closed its mouth. The water ceased flowing, the ship became stable, and everyone escaped death within the fish’s jaws.

“Because it had closed its mouth, however, the fish starved to death, and its consciousness was reborn in Rajagriha. After the fish died, yakshas and rakshasas cast its body upon the seashore. Exposed to wind and rain over many days and months, its skin and flesh decayed, leaving this pile of bones.

“Listen carefully: King Dharmalabdhivardhana of that time is none other than you, Shilibidi. Because of the offense of taking human life, you fell into the body of a Makara fish in this ocean. Now that you have obtained a human body, why do you not become weary of birth and death and calmly cultivate the path of liberation? Why do you still wish to die here? If you die, you will fall into hell, and then escape will be difficult.”

After hearing his master’s explanation, Shilibidi clearly recognized his former body. Examining himself, he developed fear of birth and death and recollected the methods of cultivation. He focused his mind and contemplated the pile of fish bones that had been his former body. He penetrated the truth of impermanence and became disenchanted with birth and death. At that very moment, he exhausted all outflows and attained the fruit of arhatship.

Venerable Maudgalyayana joyfully said:

“Dharma son, the task you had to accomplish has been completed. You need no longer rely upon my power. Use your own supernormal powers to travel.”

Having spoken, he rose into the sky like a phoenix taking flight. Shilibidi flew behind him, like a young bird following its mother. In a short while they reached the Bamboo Grove and slowly descended into the monastery.

The young bhikshus did not yet know that Shilibidi had attained the path, so they continued to look down upon him and sometimes even scolded him. Because he had attained the path and his mind was subdued, he remained peaceful and joyful and said nothing in response.

Seeing this, the Buddha wished to restrain the conceit of the young bhikshus and reveal the virtue of the elderly monk. He therefore said before the great assembly:

“Shilibidi, did you go to the ocean today and return?”

“Yes, revered Blessed One, I did.”

“What did you see at the ocean? Tell me.”

Shilibidi respectfully related all the events described above to the Buddha.

The Buddha said:

“Excellent! Having seen the truth in this way today, from now on you will surely be liberated from the suffering of birth and death, realize the path of nirvana, and become worthy to receive the offerings of humans and devas. You have fully accomplished the work of a bhikshu.”

When the young bhikshus heard the Buddha’s words, they became anxious and afraid. Regretfully, they thought:

“This old man is truly a wise and virtuous person. We understood nothing. Until now we have been proud and arrogant and have offended a worthy one. That offense is not slight. We should first confess and repent before him.”

The young bhikshus all rose, approached Shilibidi, prostrated with all five limbs touching the ground, and said:

“Venerable One, when wholesome qualities arise in a person, compassion arises with them. Previously, we acted wrongly toward you. We humbly implore you, in your compassion, to forgive us, so that we may receive the benefit of your virtue.”

“I have goodwill toward everyone. Your repentance is fully accepted. Excellent! Excellent!”

Seeing that the young bhikshus still felt fearful, Shilibidi taught them the Dharma of escaping birth and death. From then onward, the bhikshus diligently advanced in cultivation. Before long, they eliminated the outflows and attained arhatship. Because of these events, Shilibidi’s renown spread throughout Rajagriha.

How extraordinary! An old man who did not go forth until the age of one hundred nevertheless succeeded in attaining the fruit and teaching the profound Dharma. Such a thing had never before been seen.

From that time onward, many people in the city permitted their sons, daughters, male servants, and female servants to go forth, while others themselves went forth.

The merit of going forth is immeasurable and boundless. Shilibidi did not go forth to cultivate until he was one hundred years old, yet he still attained the fruit of the path and accomplished immense merit and virtue. Why, then, should those who have grown old not go forth to cultivate the path, diligently and vigorously practicing in pursuit of such boundless karmic blessings?