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මුල් සිංහල වීඩියෝව සඳහා Play කරන්න
Madhupiṇḍika Sutta: Part 1 | Venerable Thittagalle Anandasiri Thero| Thiththagalle Anandasiri Thero
We have scheduled some discussions towards the end of this month, in October. You can find the locations on Facebook. I will provide a further announcement about this in the next day or two. Those who would like the details can send a message to our WhatsApp number, and we will share them.
Evaṃ me sutaṃ—ekaṃ samayaṃ Bhagavā sakkesu viharati kapilavatthusmiṃ nigrodhārāme. The existing translations of this opening are largely correct. That is because it simply describes the occasion. 'Evaṃ me sutaṃ' means 'Thus have I heard.' At that time, the Blessed One was staying in the land of the Sakyans, near the city of Kapilavatthu, at the Nigrodhārāma, the Banyan Grove Monastery. The points of Dhamma that I am about to explain are from this context. This is the background story.
On that day, in the morning, the Blessed One dressed himself, and taking his bowl and outer robe, he entered Kapilavatthu for alms: Athakho bhagavā pubbaṇhasamayaṃ nivāsetvā pattacīvaramādāya kapilavatthuṃ piṇḍāya pāvisi. He was staying in the Nigrodhārāma in the Sakyan country of Kapilavatthu. So, on that morning, the Buddha robed himself, took his bowl and robe, and went into Kapilavatthu for his alms round. Having walked for alms in Kapilavatthu and finished his meal, he went to the Great Wood to spend the day. That is, he went to spend the day in the forest, which was near the Nigrodhārāma. Having entered the Great Wood, he sat at the foot of a young beluva sapling. (The text I have here doesn’t mention the beluva tree, but that’s not an issue). He was spending the day there.
At that time, Daṇḍapāṇi the Sakyan, while walking and wandering for exercise, also entered the Great Wood. As many people would do to spend time in solitude or for exercise, he went into the Great Wood, away from the city. He went up to the Blessed One, who was seated at the foot of the beluva tree. Having approached, he exchanged courteous and friendly greetings with the Blessed One. After this exchange of pleasantries, he stood to one side, leaning on his staff. Standing there to one side, Daṇḍapāṇi the Sakyan said this to the Blessed One. Upasaṅkamitvā Bhagavatā saddhiṃ sammodi. Sammodanīyaṃ kathaṃ sāraṇīyaṃ vītisāretvā... Now, you see, there is no mention of him paying homage to the Buddha. He just exchanged pleasantries.
So what is this about? This takes place in Kapilavatthu, at the Nigrodhārāma. Kapilavatthu was the homeland of the Buddha's own relatives. The Sakyan clan was the Buddha's clan. And the people of the Sakyan clan were proud and conceited. They were less inclined to bow, pay respect, or show reverence to others. They were a group of people who thought very highly of themselves. Now, as we will see in this sutta, the sermon the Buddha delivers is not one that Daṇḍapāṇi understands. It is like a sermon given from a position of greatness. However, the Buddha was not someone who would show off his own greatness to anyone. The reason he might have taught in this way was to shatter the conceit (māna) of those people. Because they were so proud. Otherwise, he could have delivered the teaching in a way they could understand. This teaching could have been explained very simply. But he doesn't teach it that way, because the Sakyans were people who thought they already knew a great deal. You see, those people, the Brahmins who had studied the Vedas and other texts, largely believed that they were the ones who possessed knowledge. This is why, in many instances, they did not pay much heed even to the Buddha. The Sakyans were the Buddha's own relatives, yet this is how they were. So Daṇḍapāṇi approached the Blessed One and engaged in conversation. After the pleasantries, he stood to one side, leaning on his staff without bowing. Standing there, Daṇḍapāṇi asked the Blessed One, "Kiṃvādī samaṇo, kimakkhāyī?" This, right here, is the most important part of the discourse. What came before was the background story. Even though Daṇḍapāṇi would not understand the answer, he was asking about the Buddha's view. "O ascetic, what is your doctrine? What do you proclaim?" The word here can be translated as 'doctrine' or 'view,' that is not an issue. 'What kind of doctrine do you hold?'
Now, the Buddha had ordained in his youth. Having listened to his teachings, many others had also ordained. There was a fourfold assembly of monks (bhikkhus), nuns (bhikkhunīs), laymen (upāsakas), and laywomen (upāsikās). They were all drawn to him, inspired by something. They were inspired by what he said. And what he said constituted a doctrine, a specific viewpoint. What was it? If you take any religious leader, they are founded upon a particular view. So, this is what he was asking about. That era was a time when people were on a quest for what is wholesome. So, the question asked was not a mundane one like "How do you get food and drink?" as might be asked today. This itself shows the importance given to philosophy. He asks, "What is Your Reverence's view? What is your idea?"
He said, "O ascetic..." notice he did not address him as 'the Buddha.' By this time, many people knew about the Buddha. They knew that there was such a person, with such a vision, such a doctrine. Yet, Daṇḍapāṇi addressed him in the same ordinary way one would speak to any other ascetic: "O ascetic, what is your doctrine? What do you proclaim?" In other words, "What do you teach? What is your view?"
The Buddha replied, "Yathāvādī kho, āvuso, sadevake loke samārake sabrahmake... na kenaci loke viggayha tiṭṭhati." Now, the most important point here is this: "Friend, I hold a doctrine whereby I do not have conflict with anyone in the world, with its gods, its Māras, and its Brahmās." My view does not clash with anyone's view. I dwell without contention (viggayha). Some might interpret this to mean something like, 'I live without getting into arguments.' But that's not what is meant here. Here, 'contention' means I do not clash with anyone. Please take note of this explanation.
"Yathā ca pana kāmehi visaṃyuttaṃ viharantaṃ taṃ brāhmaṇaṃ akathaṃkathiṃ chinnakukkuccaṃ..." Now, with whom would you not get into a conflict? With little children. Little children do not get into conflicts. Likewise, people who know nothing do not get into arguments. But the Buddha’s state of non-contention was not born of ignorance. He knew everything. Yet he had no need to tell anyone, "You are wrong," or "You are right." There was no internal conflict within him that needed to be affirmed or proven. That is what is meant by dwelling without contention (viggayha tiṭṭhati).
This means that he had no conflict with any of the so-called intelligent views that were prevalent in that era—views about existence after death, non-existence, and so on. He had no clash with any of them. However, this lack of conflict was not because he was ignorant. Little children don't get into conflicts, do they? Similarly, those who are ignorant of the facts do not engage in arguments. To show that his state was not due to ignorance, the next part of the teaching is given: "Yathā ca pana kāmehi visaṃyuttaṃ." He dwells detached from sensual pleasures. "...taṃ brāhmaṇaṃ akathaṃkathiṃ chinnakukkuccaṃ bhavābhave vītataṇhaṃ, saññā nānusenti." This section, these very words, are of the utmost importance.
Now, for a conflict (viggayha) to arise in the world, what is required? It requires one to grasp onto something as 'the truth.' For instance, let's say we have something here. I might say, "This is yellow." Someone else might say, "No, this is light yellow." A dispute will only arise if we mentally grasp onto our perception as the absolute truth. The moment you grasp something, you try to assert that it is the truth. Then what happens? When someone else says it is false, a conflict arises right there. Then he will present his reasons, and I will present my reasons. There is no end to it. It is at the point where we grasp something as the absolute truth that this conflict (viggayha), this clash, arises for all of us. If there is no grasping onto something as 'the truth,' if there is no clinging to anything whatsoever, then one has no reason to declare, "This is right, that is wrong." This is why I previously brought up that teaching about 'it exists' and 'it does not exist.' The Kaccānagotta Sutta is relevant here. That is the essence of this point. Only after you have taken hold of a perception, only after you have grasped something as 'existing,' does the discussion of right and wrong even begin. If you do not grasp it in the first place, there is nothing left to talk about. If you do not cling to something as true, do you need to declare external things as false? No.
So, what the Buddha is pointing out here is this: people engage in debates and disputes only because they are clinging to something they have taken to be true. And they are always trying to prove that the point they have grasped is correct. All their mental problems are constructed around that, and they struggle to affirm it. But the Dhamma the Buddha teaches is not like that. He does not point to anything for people to grasp. We cannot point to the Buddha's Dhamma and say, "Here it is." So what does he show? He shows a crossing over. He does not point to a place to take a stand, a place to lodge, or a place to settle. You cannot point to something here and say, "This is definitely it."
But what are people in this world, including the gods, always searching for? They are always grasping onto something and engaging in arguments. And this is what they expect from the Buddha's Dhamma as well. "Ah, now I have found Nibbāna. It is like this." This means they are looking for something to grasp. But the Buddha shows an unestablished state (appatiṭṭhita). It cannot be pointed to. What he teaches is a crossing over. What does he teach? A crossing over, not an attainment for oneself. The Buddha's Dhamma points to a way of crossing over. This is why the Buddha says he remains free from this state of contention (viggayha tiṭṭhati).
The next few words are crucial: "Yathā ca pana kāmehi visaṃyuttaṃ viharantaṃ..." He dwells detached from sensual pleasures. "...taṃ brāhmaṇaṃ..." This Brahmin—referring to the Buddha himself—has no doubts or uncertainties. "...akathaṃkathiṃ chinnakukkuccaṃ." He has cut off all perplexity. He has no doubt. That is the key. Someone who does not know something has doubts. Because he is unable to resolve them, he does not argue. Little children do not argue because they lack knowledge and facts. But the Buddha has no doubts or uncertainties about these matters. Beyond that, he has no perplexity (kukkucca). However, because there is no grasping, no attainment, and no settling for him, no contention arises. If someone doesn't understand during a debate, they can't give a proper answer, can they? An ignorant person doesn't know the facts, so they fall silent. People might then think, "Ah, he is also someone free from arguments," just like little children have no arguments. But the Buddha's freedom from conflict is not due to ignorance. He had studied the Vedas thoroughly, he had learned the facts well, he knew everything. But he was not clinging to any of it.
Next, he says: "...bhavābhave vītataṇhaṃ." He has abandoned craving for existence and non-existence. Yes, existence and non-existence (bhava-vibhava). "Bhavābhave vītataṇhaṃ"—he has no desire, no craving (taṇhā).
And now comes the most profound word, the word that will be elaborated on further. "...saññā nānusenti." One of the deepest words in this teaching is 'saññā nānusenti.' It is with perception (saññā) that... Perceptions do not underlie his consciousness. There is no room for identification, no underlying tendency (anusaya) for it. When we said earlier that we grasp something as 'existing,' an object of identification arises there. If we do not grasp it as 'existing,' there is no room for identification. It is only after we have identified something that we begin to conceptually proliferate about it, to think about it. That is what we take as 'it is.'
So, when the world takes one side and says "it is," what they are grasping is not something that truly exists, but something grasped through perception (saññā), something identified. And it is because they think that this identified object exists that they create arguments, problems, and conflicts. It is over this that they get angry. Right? But the Buddha says, "saññā nānusenti." There is no room for this matter of identification, no underlying tendency for it.
"Evaṃvādī kho ahaṃ, āvuso... evaṃ akkhāyī." "Friend, this is my doctrine. This is what I proclaim," he says. "This is the point I show." "Evaṃvādī kho ahaṃ, āvuso... evaṃ akkhāyī." "This is the kind of teaching I declare to the world. This is my view, my vision." Daṇḍapāṇi had asked what his doctrine was, and this is the Buddha's answer: "This is the doctrine I hold. That is the doctrine I hold. That is the point I have to declare." That is what the Buddha said.
Then, the text says: "...Evaṃ vutte, daṇḍapāṇi sakko sīsaṃ okampetvā jivhaṃ nillāḷetvā..." He shook his head and stuck out his tongue. The existing Sinhala translation of this part is not quite accurate, so please pay close attention to my explanation and adjust your understanding accordingly. It says he furrowed his brow three times, shook his head, and left. He frowned, creating three wrinkles on his forehead, and then, still leaning on his staff, he walked away. Is that clear?
Athakho bhagavā sāyanhasamaye paṭisallānā vuṭṭhito yena nigrodhārāmo tenupasaṅkami. The following incident is a conversation with the monks. The translation of this part in other versions can be disregarded. After arising from his afternoon seclusion, the Blessed One went to the Nigrodhārāma, the Banyan Grove Monastery. Having arrived, the Blessed One addressed the community of monks, saying, "Monks."
He then recounted the morning's events: "This morning, I dressed myself, took my bowl and robe, and went into Kapilavatthu for alms. Having walked for alms in Kapilavatthu and finished my meal, I went to the Great Wood to spend the day. Having entered the Great Wood, I sat down at the foot of a beluva sapling to pass the time. Monks, at that moment, Daṇḍapāṇi the Sakyan, while walking for exercise, also came into the Great Wood. He approached me where I was sitting under the beluva sapling. He exchanged courteous greetings with me. Then, leaning on his staff, he stood to one side. Standing there, monks, Daṇḍapāṇi asked me this: 'O ascetic, what is your doctrine? What view do you hold? What do you proclaim? Kiṃvādī samaṇo, kimakkhāyī?' When Daṇḍapāṇi the Sakyan asked this, I gave him this answer: 'Friend, this is the doctrine I hold.' This is the answer I gave him."
'This is the view I proclaim. It is a doctrine whereby I do not have conflict with anyone in the world, with its gods... na kenaci loke viggayha tiṭṭhati... Yathā ca pana kāmehi visaṃyuttaṃ...' He repeated the same teaching. A doctrine where, in this world with its gods, Māras, and Brahmās, I have no conflict with anyone. The word 'conflict' (viggayha) here means the Buddha has no need to prove anyone wrong or right. The Buddha doesn't need to prove that he himself is right. He has no clash with anyone. Whatever views people may hold, the Buddha remains in a state where it is no problem for him.
And he dwells in this way, yathā ca pana, not out of ignorance. He dwells detached from sensual pleasures, having understood them. "...yathā ca pana kāmehi visaṃyuttaṃ viharantaṃ taṃ brāhmaṇaṃ akathaṃkathiṃ chinnakukkuccaṃ bhavābhave vītataṇhaṃ, saññā nānusenti." This Brahmin knows everything, but is distanced from sensual pleasures. This Brahmin, the Buddha, is without doubt, without perplexity, and without craving for either existence or non-existence. "...saññā nānusenti." What did I say this phrase means? There is no room for perception (saññā). What does that mean? There is no room for perception to take hold, no attainment within perception. This is the phrase that will be explained further on. "Evaṃvādī kho ahaṃ... evaṃ akkhāyī." "I told him that I am one who holds such a view."
"Evaṃ vutte, bhikkhave, daṇḍapāṇi sakko sīsaṃ okampetvā jivhaṃ nillāḷetvā..." "When I had spoken, monks, Daṇḍapāṇi shook his head, stuck out his tongue, furrowed his brow three times, and leaning on his staff, he went away." This means he did not understand a single thing.
Now, if the Buddha had wanted to, he could have explained it much more simply; there are many instances where he did so. But here, he did not elaborate further. The reason for this is conceit (māna). When one is conceited, even upon meeting a Buddha, one fails to receive the very teaching one needs to hear. What happens when one has great pride? He met the Buddha. He asked what the Buddha taught. He did not understand. But if he had admitted, "I don't understand," what would have happened? He would have felt diminished, as if it invalidated all the things he thought he knew and had learned. So, he just made a scornful gesture and left. He could have asked, "I'm sorry, I did not understand." If he had said that, what would have happened? His pride would have diminished. His conceit would have subsided. But the Dhamma cannot take root in a conceited person.
There is another person mentioned elsewhere, named Mahānāma. The Buddha did help him. But that man—I believe he was also a Sakyan—was so proud that if he didn't speak to someone, he wouldn't speak to anyone at all. If he didn't smile at someone, he wouldn't smile at anyone. Such was his arrogance. His very name meant 'Great Name' (Mahā-nāma). Right? Now, this man was just as proud. When the Buddha came to that area, people would go to meet him. Those who wished to pay homage would do so and then speak with him. Those who did not wish to pay homage would speak with him without doing so. Others would simply listen without speaking. The Buddha would visit villages like this, as his fame had spread widely. As I mentioned before, the verse we call the 'Tibiso gāthā' was how people of other faiths described him at that time. It was not a verse spoken by those ignorant of the Buddha. Rather, it expressed the sentiment, "A young man, a king with glossy black hair, has ordained and is teaching such a Dhamma. He has come to our region, so we must go and listen."
Now, this man Mahānāma thinks to himself, "I should also go. But I will only speak if he speaks to me first. Otherwise, I won't give him the time of day." There are people like that even today, aren't there? Full of self-importance. He thinks, "I will only look at him if he looks at me first." But when people approach us, we can often tell just by looking at them what they are like, can't we? Whether they are tense or at ease. And just as he was thinking this, what happened? The Buddha didn't even look at him. He didn't speak to him, didn't acknowledge him. He spoke kindly and had discussions with everyone else. Meanwhile, this man was seething the entire time, thinking, "Look at this! A person of my stature, and he ignores me."
Finally, the discussion was over, and it was time to leave. As the man was turning to go, the Buddha called him by his name. At that, he broke down. Why? Because he had been fuming for hours. If someone important goes somewhere and is ignored, they dwell on it: "He didn't acknowledge me. He didn't smile at me." After that, they hear nothing else from the sermon, do they? Now, some people here might think that way. If someone doesn't talk to them because of a lack of time, or doesn't pay attention, or doesn't smile, they hold onto it. Years later when they meet, someone might say, "This is how you were treated." So, people get caught up in their own minds. People in Sri Lanka are like that; they tend to have a lot of conceit. When they go to different places, they always expect respect, offerings, and to be welcomed with veneration. This is a great obstacle to the Dhamma taking root. Isn't it?
That is what happened to him, to Daṇḍapāṇi the Sakyan. If, at that moment, he had asked about what he didn't understand, what would have happened? He could have clarified it and reached a great understanding. In Mahānāma's case, his conceit was eventually subdued. It was shattered. It is said that after that, he engaged in Dhamma discussions. But there is no mention of Daṇḍapāṇi the Sakyan ever returning. So, even when such a person meets a Buddha, this is the result. This is what happens to people with conceit.
When all that was said and done, the Buddha, who had come from the Great Wood, recounted these events to the monks who were residing at the Nigrodhārāma. Evaṃ vutte, aññataro bhikkhu bhagavantaṃ etadavoca. When he had finished, a certain monk asked him this. Clearly, he too had not understood the teaching. That monk, however, was humble. He had reverence for the Buddha in his mind. He asked, "Venerable Sir, you said you dwell without conflict with anyone in this world... na kenaci loke viggayha tiṭṭhati. How is it that you dwell without clashing with the views held by this world with its gods, Māras, and Brahmās?" That is a crucial question. He hadn't understood the initial explanation.
He then asked further, "Kathaṃ ca pana, bhante, bhagavantaṃ kāmehi visaṃyuttaṃ viharantaṃ... saññā nānusenti?" "And Venerable Sir, how does the Blessed One dwell detached from sensual pleasures, as a Brahmin without doubt or perplexity, having abandoned craving for existence and non-existence, in a state where perceptions do not underlie his consciousness?"
At this, the Buddha began to explain. Now, this next part is also very important. "Yatonidānaṃ, bhikkhu, purisaṃ papañcasaññāsaṅkhā samudācaranti, ettha ce natthi abhinanditabbaṃ, abhivaditabbaṃ, ajjhositabbaṃ..." The words that follow explain this. How does conceptual proliferation (papañca) arise? From a source. Based on a perception (saññā). These concepts samudācaranti—they assail him, they behave in a certain way. "Monk, whatever the source (yatonidānaṃ) from which perceptions and concepts born of conceptual proliferation assail a person..." We create and identify these proliferations based on something, don't we? Whether it is this phone, this glass of water, or anything else. We behave within that framework. Samudācaranti. Now, I will explain these terms—papañca-saññā-saṅkhā—in detail later, but for now, I will give you the simple meaning. 'Conceptual proliferation' means a process is brought to the fore. Perception (saññā) is that which identifies. Formation (saṅkhāra) is the quality of fabricating or designating concepts. For example, 'This is a glass,' or 'There is half a glass of water.' It's a kind of designation. Conceptual proliferation (papañca) is the activity, the thinking process, that elaborates upon this. It brings an emergence, a prolonged mental process, into being.
So, those are the three terms: conceptual proliferation (papañca), perception (saññā), and formation (saṅkhāra). We behave or act within that identified object—that is samudācaranti. It means we keep thinking about it; that is how we act and behave. Any person, at any given moment, is behaving within the realm of conceptual proliferation, perception, and formation. Even this Dhamma discussion is just that: perceptions and concepts born of conceptual proliferation are arising and behaving in the mind. Is that clear?
When you grasp something as 'existing,' what happens on the other side, when it is 'non-existing'? A feeling arises. An identification arises. A feeling of cold arises. A feeling of heat arises. A feeling (vedanā) arises. You behave accordingly. You keep thinking about it. You will understand these three words more as we go on.
Yatonidānaṃ means "from whatever source." That is, based on something. A 'source' (nidāna) can be anything. It could be a tree or any other matter. It is based on a source that perceptions of conceptual proliferation arise for us. It could be one's mother, one's father—anything at all. That is why the text says, yatonidānaṃ purisaṃ... ("whatever source a person takes as a basis...").
Whatever source a person takes as a basis to behave within the realm of conceptual proliferation and perception, to identify and receive things—the Buddha's state is one where there is no joyful welcoming of it.
The monks asked him how he dwells in this way, free from conflict (viggayha tiṭṭhati) with the world of gods, Māras, and Brahmās. He replied that with regard to any source from which these proliferations arise, the monk—meaning the Buddha himself—has no joyful welcoming of them. There is no joyful welcoming of the perceptions and concepts born of conceptual proliferation.
What is it that is not joyfully welcomed? It is not the conceptual proliferation itself that is not welcomed. It is the source, the root of it all, that is not welcomed. There is no delighting in that source (abhinanditabbaṃ), no welcoming of it (abhivaditabbaṃ), and no grasping onto it (ajjhositabbaṃ). Please write this down exactly as I've explained it.
When there is no delighting in, welcoming of, or grasping onto the source, that very moment is:
"...esevanto rāgānusayānaṃ..." — the end of the underlying tendency to lust.
"...esevanto paṭighānusayānaṃ..." — the end of the underlying tendency to aversion.
"...esevanto diṭṭhānusayānaṃ..." — the end of the underlying tendency to views.
"...esevanto vicikicchānusayānaṃ..." — the end of the underlying tendency to doubt.
"...esevanto mānānusayānaṃ..." — the end of the underlying tendency to conceit.
"...esevanto bhavarāgānusayānaṃ..." — the end of the underlying tendency to craving for existence.
"...esevanto avijjānusayānaṃ..." — the end of the underlying tendency to ignorance.
There is no room for foolishness. When is there room for foolishness? It is when one behaves according to conceptual proliferations arising from that source. The Buddha's state is 'there is nothing to be welcomed' (n’atthi abhinanditabbaṃ). If you remove the 'n’atthi,' which means 'there is not,' and you do welcome it, what happens then? Then there is room for lust, not the end of it. There is room for aversion, for getting angry.
It's simple. Why do we get angry about something? Why do we feel passion for something? Because we are clinging to the source of it. When we do that, there is room for views, for opinions. There is room for doubt. We have doubts about some source, don't we? And how do we grasp that source? Through perceptions and concepts born of conceptual proliferation. Then, there is room for craving for existence.
This is where there is room for perception (saññā), as I mentioned earlier. That is why I said it was the most profound word, and this is the explanation of it. It is through perception that all of this is grasped and identified. Then, there is room for existence and for ignorance. What is this foolishness? It is arguing over something you assume to exist. It is craving something you assume to exist. It is over an identified perception—something one has taken to be true through conceptual proliferation—that people get into arguments and disputes. This ignorance is like being pierced by a thorn over and over again. Once you have grasped something as true, you are continually poked and prodded by it. When I explain it this way, people often don't understand. They wonder, "Why did he say it like that?" That's because they are clinging to their own conceptual proliferation.
If I say something one day, someone might recall it the next day and think about it. But my approach is different. The way I live is for me alone. When something is said and done, for me, it is finished right there. It has no relevance to me in the next moment. But ordinary people hold onto it in their minds. They keep thinking about it. This is why the Venerable Sāriputta said, "I am like a bull with broken horns." How does he live? This is not just about walking with one's head bowed. There is no such thing. This is a vision, a way of seeing. It is a crossing over. Is that clear?
Once the Buddha explained this, all the problems of the world are resolved. "...esevanto avijjānusayānaṃ. Etha daṇḍādānasatthādānakalahaviggahavivādatuṃvatuṃvapesuññamusāvādā pāpakā akusalā dhammā aparisesā nirujjhanti." At that very point, what happens? The taking up of rods and weapons, quarrels, conflicts, disputes, slander, and false speech—all these evil, unwholesome states cease without remainder (aparisesā nirujjhanti). Not even a trace is left. They cease completely.
"Idamavoca bhagavā. Idaṃ vatvāna sugato uṭṭhāyāsanā vihāraṃ pāvisi." Thus spoke the Blessed One. Having said this, the Well-Farer rose from his seat and entered his dwelling. This means that after saying these things, he left.
Now, here is a crucial point regarding the translation of this passage. Some translate the ending of the underlying tendencies (anusaya) as a complete cessation of lust, aversion, and so on. That is incorrect. It means there is no longer any room for them. For something to cease, it must first exist. If you grasp something as 'existing,' then it is there. But if you do not grasp it as 'existing' in the first place, is there any room for it? There is no room for lust. But if you do grasp it as 'existing,' then there is room for lust, for aversion, for doubt, for ignorance, for views—for all of it. When you grasp 'it exists,' there is room for feeling, for identification, for everything. But the Buddha's way leaves no room. There is nothing to be ended because it was never initiated in the first place. These are profound matters. Because people don't understand this, they produce flawed translations, and there's little we can do about it. So, remember it this way: what is meant here is that there is no room for these things to arise. You all should understand this clearly now because of the video I showed you. If you do not grasp the hand, is there any pain to be ended? There is nothing to suffer from. There is nothing to identify. There is no room for identification. But if room for identification arises, based on some source, then all these problems—lust and the rest—will be there.
Therefore, you don't need to try to eliminate lust. You don't need to try to eliminate aversion. What you must do is address the source. That is why the Buddha said, "N’atthi abhinanditabbaṃ, n’atthi abhivaditabbaṃ, n’atthi ajjhositabbaṃ." There is no joyful welcoming of it, no delighting in it, no grasping onto it. And because there is no such grasping of the source from which conceptual proliferations assail a person, the Buddha has no problem with the world.
The monks asked, "How do you dwell without conflict in this world? How do you dwell detached from sensual pleasures?" It is by living in this way that he does so.
However, the monks did not understand this explanation either. Daṇḍapāṇi had not understood, and now the monks did not. But this was not a matter of the monks' pride. The Buddha simply rose and left. If there had been an opportunity, they would have asked. But he finished his teaching and promptly departed, perhaps because he had something else to do.
This was not a case of the monks having conceit like Daṇḍapāṇi. If they had been conceited, they would not have approached anyone to find an answer. Their problem now was that they did not understand what the Buddha had taught. Just as you all might not have understood it fully at first. This is where the discourse leads into the Nibbedhika Sutta. If there is time, I will teach the Nibbedhika Sutta as well. It is in the Nibbedhika Sutta that the Buddha explains the results of perception.Here is the translation of the final part of the sermon, maintaining consistency with all previous sections.
It is over an identified perception—something one has taken to be true through conceptual proliferation—that people get into arguments and disputes. This ignorance is like being pierced by a thorn over and over again. Once you have grasped something as true, you are continually poked and prodded by it. When I explain it this way, people often don't understand. They wonder, "Why did he say it like that?" That's because they are clinging to their own conceptual proliferation.
If I say something one day, someone might recall it the next day and think about it. But my approach is different. The way I live is for me alone. When something is said and done, for me, it is finished right there. It has no relevance to me in the next moment. But ordinary people hold onto it in their minds. They keep thinking about it. This is why the Venerable Sāriputta said, "I am like a bull with broken horns." How does he live? This is not just about walking with one's head bowed. There is no such thing. This is a vision, a way of seeing. It is a crossing over. Is that clear?
Once the Buddha explained this, all the problems of the world are resolved. "...esevanto avijjānusayānaṃ. Etha daṇḍādānasatthādānakalahaviggahavivādatuṃvatuṃvapesuññamusāvādā pāpakā akusalā dhammā aparisesā nirujjhanti." At that very point, what happens? The taking up of rods and weapons, quarrels, conflicts, disputes, slander, and false speech—all these evil, unwholesome states cease without remainder (aparisesā nirujjhanti). Not even a trace is left. They cease completely.
"Idamavoca bhagavā. Idaṃ vatvāna sugato uṭṭhāyāsanā vihāraṃ pāvisi." Thus spoke the Blessed One. Having said this, the Well-Farer rose from his seat and entered his dwelling. This means that after saying these things, he left.
Now, here is a crucial point regarding the translation of this passage. Some translate the ending of the underlying tendencies (anusaya) as a complete cessation of lust, aversion, and so on. That is incorrect. It means there is no longer any room for them. For something to cease, it must first exist. If you grasp something as 'existing,' then it is there. But if you do not grasp it as 'existing' in the first place, is there any room for it? There is no room for lust. But if you do grasp it as 'existing,' then there is room for lust, for aversion, for doubt, for ignorance, for views—for all of it. When you grasp 'it exists,' there is room for feeling, for identification, for everything. But the Buddha's way leaves no room. There is nothing to be ended because it was never initiated in the first place. These are profound matters. Because people don't understand this, they produce flawed translations, and there's little we can do about it. So, remember it this way: what is meant here is that there is no room for these things to arise. You all should understand this clearly now because of the video I showed you. If you do not grasp the hand, is there any pain to be ended? There is nothing to suffer from. There is nothing to identify. There is no room for identification. But if room for identification arises, based on some source, then all these problems—lust and the rest—will be there.
Therefore, you don't need to try to eliminate lust. You don't need to try to eliminate aversion. What you must do is address the source. That is why the Buddha said, "N’atthi abhinanditabbaṃ, n’atthi abhivaditabbaṃ, n’atthi ajjhositabbaṃ." There is no joyful welcoming of it, no delighting in it, no grasping onto it. And because there is no such grasping of the source from which conceptual proliferations assail a person, the Buddha has no problem with the world.
The monks asked, "How do you dwell without conflict in this world? How do you dwell detached from sensual pleasures?" It is by living in this way that he does so.
However, the monks did not understand this explanation either. Daṇḍapāṇi had not understood, and now the monks did not. But this was not a matter of the monks' pride. The Buddha simply rose and left. If there had been an opportunity, they would have asked. But he finished his teaching and promptly departed, perhaps because he had something else to do.
This was not a case of the monks having conceit like Daṇḍapāṇi. If they had been conceited, they would not have approached anyone to find an answer. Their problem now was that they did not understand what the Buddha had taught. Just as you all might not have understood it fully at first. This is where the discourse leads into the Nibbedhika Sutta. If there is time, I will teach the Nibbedhika Sutta as well. It is in the Nibbedhika Sutta that the Buddha explains the results of perception. What about perception? Once a perception has been grasped, its results (vipāka) follow. These results are relevant to the next part of the teaching. The Nibbedhika Sutta is also a discourse that should be studied properly. Please look into it, as it explains the remaining part of this teaching that we have been discussing, and you will be able to understand it in a new and deeper way.
So, the monks did not understand. What happened next? "Athakho tesaṃ bhikkhūnaṃ acirapakkantassa bhagavato etadahosi: Idaṃ kho no, āvuso, bhagavā saṃkhittena uddesaṃ uddisitvā... vihāraṃ paviṭṭho..." Soon after the Blessed One had departed, this thought occurred to those monks: "Friends, the Blessed One has risen from his seat and entered his dwelling after giving us this brief teaching without explaining the meaning in detail... How are we to understand this?" How does the Buddha dwell in such a way? So they wondered, "How can we understand the meaning of this?"
Now, why do most people listen to the Dhamma? To get something for themselves. But the purpose of the Dhamma is to understand, to apply wise attention (yoniso manasikāra). And what is the result of that understanding? If you receive an 'attainment,' you have misunderstood. The result is a 'crossing over.' What is there? With the dawning of wisdom, with that insight, what is experienced is a crossing over. There is nothing for that person to get. No attainment comes. No place to lodge is found.
Many people who listen to our sermons feel they have 'found Nibbāna.' They settle on it, they lodge there. They cling to it. If they don't understand this point, that is the end of the road for them. Their path in the Dhamma is finished right there. But for one who gives room to wise attention and wisdom, a crossing over becomes visible. And when one has crossed over, there is nothing that has been received, nothing to stand on, and nothing to lodge in. We are told that even the Buddha has no such place. There is no room even for lust.
When is there room for ignorance? It is when one grasps some source and, through conceptual proliferation, perception, and formation, thinks, "I have attained Nibbāna," and then behaves accordingly. This is not much different from how one thinks about having received some gold or money. That is not a true understanding of the Dhamma. It is not awakening.
So, the monks went to see the Venerable Mahā Kaccāna Thero. He was a disciple whom the Buddha himself had praised as being capable of understanding profound matters. You know this part of the story. Please look up the Nibbedhika Sutta, as it explains in detail the results of perception. That part is also relevant here. The Buddha showed that he does not give room to perception. But we do give room to perception in our minds, don't we? Because there is room, we welcome it; we grasp it. It is from this that all our mental problems begin, for anyone in the world. The rest of the sutta explains what happens when this occurs.
This sutta is not one to be finished after hearing it just once. It is something that requires continuous wise attention, to understand more and more what the Buddha meant, to grasp its meaning word by word. You could spend your entire life exploring the depths of this one sutta. It is further explained through concepts like 'it exists' and 'it does not exist' (sati, asati) and through Dependent Origination (Paṭiccasamuppāda). It contains the method by which any mental problem arises for any person. The Venerable Mahā Kaccāna Thero goes on to explain this. I will explain his discourse tomorrow evening.
The monks' confusion arose because they had not understood. They interpreted the teaching from their own perspective. They think, "I have lust. So what the Buddha is teaching is how to end this lust." But that is not what the Buddha is saying. They think, "I have aversion," and interpret the teaching from that standpoint. But if someone listens to this and takes it as the truth, they will struggle their entire life to end lust, and their life will end before they succeed, because it cannot be done that way. The path is subtle. It must be comprehended through one's own wisdom (paññā). And how does wisdom arise? By hearing the Dhamma, retaining it, reciting it, mentally examining it, and penetrating it with right view. For anyone who follows these five steps, with time, a deeper and deeper understanding will dawn.
Original Source (Video):
Title: මදුපිණ්ඩික සූත්රය පළමු කොටස | පූජ්ය තිත්තගල්ලේ ආනන්දසිරි හිමි | madhupindika sutta
https://youtu.be/CaGC8OdEALY?si=qud-6FZV4yL5n2XA
Disclaimer
The translations shared on this blog are based on Dhamma sermons originally delivered in Sinhalese. They have been translated into English with the help of AI (ChatGPT & Gemini AI), with the intention of making these teachings more accessible to a broader audience.
Please note that while care has been taken to preserve the meaning and spirit of the original sermons, there may be errors or inaccuracies in translation. These translations are offered in good faith, but they may not fully capture the depth or nuance of the original teachings.
This blog does not seek to promote or endorse any specific personal views that may be expressed by the original speaker. The content is shared solely for the purpose of encouraging reflection and deeper understanding of the Dhamma.
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