Sex, Marriage and Family in World Religions (71 page)

The bodhisattva answered: “For unsurpassed complete enlightenment.”

The king said: “Sir, when you attain unsurpassed complete enlightenment, then please turn your thoughts to me.”

“I will do so,” the bodhisattva replied, and he departed from Ra¯jagr.ha.

Not far from there, near Vulture’s Peak, there was a hermitage of ascetics, and that is where the bodhisattva now went. He stayed there and meditated, engag-ing in those ascetics’ practices. If they stood on one foot for a portion of the day, the bodhisattva did so for two portions. If they engaged in the painful practice of sitting between four fires with the sun shining overhead for one portion of the day, the bodhisattva did so for two. In this way they were amazed, and began to call him the great quester. . . .

The bodhisattva asked them: “Sirs, what is the purpose of your practice?”

And some said, “We want to gain the status of the god Indra”; and others said, “We want to gain the status of Brahma¯”; and still others said, “We want to gain the status of Ma¯ra.”

And the bodhisattva thought, “Indeed, these ascetics are caught in a whirl-pool, practicing a wrong path.”

So, finding that path inadequate, he went to the hermitage of A¯ra¯d.a Ka¯la¯ma. . . . He asked A¯ra¯d.a what sorts of dharmas he had realized.

“O, Gautama,” answered A¯ra¯d.a, “every thing up to the stage of nothingness.”

The bodhisattva then declared: “The faith of A¯ra¯d.a Ka¯la¯ma is also my faith.

The determination, the mindfulness, the concentration, the wisdom of A¯ra¯d.a Ka¯la¯ma are also my determination, mindfulness, concentration, and wisdom.

The dharmas that A¯ra¯d.a Ka¯la¯ma has realized, up to the stage of nothingness, I will realize.” . . .

[The bodhisattva then followed and completed all of a¯ra¯da’s practices, but he was not fulfilled by them.] “This path,” he declared, “is not adequate for knowledge, not adequate for seeing, not adequate for unsurpassed total enlightenment.”

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And having thus determined A¯a¯ra¯d.a’s path to be insufficient, the bodhisattva went to Udraka Ra¯maputra. . . . He asked Udraka what sorts of dharmas he had realized.

“O, Gautama,” Udraka replied, “everything up to the stage of neither perception nor nonperception.”

The bodhisattva then declared: “The faith of Udraka Ra¯maputra is also my faith. The determination, mindfulness, concentration, and wisdom of Udraka Ra¯maputra are also my determination, mindfulness, concentration and wisdom.

The dharmas that Udraka Ra¯maputra has realized, up to the stage of neither perception nor nonperception, I will realize.” . . .

[The bodhisattva then followed and completed all of Udraka’s practices, but he was not fulfilled by them either.] “This path too,” he declared, “is not adequate for knowledge, not adequate for seeing, not adequate for unsurpassed total enlightenment.”

And having thus determined that path to be insufficient, the bodhisattva went on.

Now King Súddhodana, overcome by sorrow for his son, constantly sent out messengers to search for the bodhisattva. In this way, he learned that the bodhisattva had left Udraka Ra¯maputra, departed Ra¯jagrha, and was wandering around without any attendants. Having heard that, he sent three hundred servants to attend to him. And in the same royal city, the Sá¯kya Suprabuddha, Queen Ma¯ya¯’s father, heard the same news, and he sent two hundred servants.

So the bodhisattva, surrounded by five hundred attendants, wandered in the forest of asceticism.

Soon, he reflected: “Dwelling in crowds is no good for discipline in ascetic practices and is antithetical to the search for the deathless state. Therefore I will retain five servants only and send the others away.” So he kept two from the maternal side and three from the paternal side, and they attended to his needs.

Now, with his entourage of five attendants, he went on a journey to the south of Gaya¯, to Urubilva¯, the village of Sena¯pati. There he found a lovely spot, a grove of trees near the Nairan˜jana¯ River. . . . And he sat himself firmly down at the base of a tree, clenched his teeth, placed the tip of his tongue on his palate, and grabbed, gathered, and pressed hard his thoughts with his mind. . . . [And he began to fast] As he gradually took smaller and smaller amounts of food, his backbone became like a string of beads, and his buttocks became like the foot of a camel. Taking hold of his body from the front, he found he held it at the back. Taking hold of it from the back, he found he held it in front. He rubbed and stroked his body with his hands, and where he did so his hairs readily fell off. [ . . . ]

In the meantime, King Súddhodana heard that the bodhisattva was practic-336

ing austerities, and he sent 250 spies to report on his activities. And Suprabuddha as well sent 250 spies. And they, every day, sent various reports back to Kapilavastu: “The bodhisattva is carrying out such and such an austerity.” “He is eating a meal of one sesame seed, one grain of rice, one jujube, one pulse pod, one bean . . . ” “He is sleeping on darbha grass.”

Learning all this, King Súddhodana became very worried about his son, and, his eyes clouded with tears, his heart and mind in torment, he suffered himself and began to make his own bed on darbha grass.

And the bodhisattva’s wife, Princess Yasódhara¯, . . . learning the news about her husband, was overcome with sorrow for him, and, her face wet with tears, her ornaments and garlands cast aside, despondent, she too undertook austerities. She too began to eat meals of one sesame seed, one grain of rice, one jujube, one pulse pod, one bean, and she slept on a bed of straw. As a result, the child in her womb wasted away.

King Súddhodana heard of her condition and reflected: “If Yasódhara¯ continues every day to receive news of the bodhisattva, and thereby to be stricken with sorrow for her husband, and to persist miserably in her asceticism, she will not be able to bear this fetus, and it will perish.”

Therefore he undertook measures to ensure that no more news of the bodhisattva be told to Yasódhara¯. . . . The spies were instructed to communicate any information about the bodhisattva only to Súddhodana. And keeping what he heard secret, and hiding his own distress from Yasódhara¯, he deceived the whole harem, and Yasódhara¯ regained her health. . . .

Meanwhile, the bodhisattva, who was practicing bodily austerities, thought: “No one engaged in the discipline of great ascetic striving has ever transcended suffering; therefore this path as well is not adequate for knowledge, not adequate for seeing, not adequate for unsurpassed total enlightenment.” And he began to relax his strenuousness; and his body, which had been suppressed, became calm, . . . and his mind, which had been repressed, became one-pointed.

And he reflected: “What is the way that is adequate for knowledge, for seeing, for unsurpassed total enlightenment?” Then it occurred to him: “I remember when, as a boy, I sat down in the shade of the jambu tree while attending a festival at the place of my father Súddhodana; at that time, I attained a trance state that was free from sensual desires, free from sinful and demeritorious things, thoughtful, reflective, arising from discrimination, and blissful. That must be the way, that must be the path that is adequate for knowledge, for seeing, for unsurpassed total enlightenment. . . . ”

So the bodhisattva began to take substantial food, porridge and gruel, and he rubbed his limbs with ghee and oil, and he took a warm bath. . . . And gradually he regained his bodily strength, his vigor and energy, and, in time, he went to the village of Sena¯yani. There, lived a villager named Sena. He had two daughters, Nanda¯ and Nandabala¯. They had heard that the bodhisattva was the prince of the Sá¯kyas, who had been born in the foothills of the Hima¯layas
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on the banks of the Bha¯gı¯ratha River, not far from the hermitage of the sage Kapila, and that brahmin soothsayers had predicted he would become a cakravartin king. . . . So they prepared for him, in a crystal bowl, some sweetened milk-rice condensed sixteen times. . . .

Then the bodhisattva consumed the milk-rice, and, after washing the bowl, he threw it into the Nairan˜jana¯ River. There the na¯gas took hold of it. But the gods are aware of what happens down below, and Indra, king of the gods, took on the form of a garuda bird, stirred up the waters of the Nairanjana¯, terrified the nagas, took away the bowl, and instituted a Festival of the Bowl among the gods in his heaven.

Then the bodhisattva asked Nanda¯ and Nandabala¯: “What did you seek by virtue of your gift?”

They replied: “Blessed One, as a result of the merit of our gift and of our resolution, we would like to have you, the Prince of the Sá¯kyas, as our husband . . . you who, the soothsayers predicted, would become a cakravartin king.”

The bodhisattva replied: “This is not possible; I am one who has wandered forth and have no desire for sensual pleasures.”

They said: “Blessed One, if that is the case, let the meritorious fruit of this act of giving be your highest enlightenment.” [ . . . ]

Then, having received some grass from the grass-cutter Svastika, the bodhisattva approached the foot of the Bodhi Tree, by the road pointed out to him by the gods. Getting there, he prepared a broad, nicely arranged, firmly established seat of grass. . . . And mounting this adamantine throne, he sat down with his legs crossed like a sleeping snake-king’s coils. Holding his body upright and fixing his mind in front of him, he resolved: “I will not uncross my legs until the destruction of defilements has been attained.” [ . . . ]

And in the first watch of the night, he inclined his mind toward achieving firsthand knowledge of the field of supernatural powers, . . . and he set himself to the task of remembering, in a firsthand way, his former births. . . . He recalled his many various previous existences: one birth, two, three, four, . . . ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, a thousand, . . . many thousands, . . . many hundreds of thousands. . . .

And in the second watch of the night, he inclined his mind to achieving firsthand knowledge of the transmigration of beings from one existence to another. With his pure divine eye transcending human sight, he saw beings dying and being reborn, of good caste and bad, low and high, in good rebirths, in unfortunate ones. . . . They were wandering in samsa¯ra according to the evil inclinations of their sensual desires, birth, and ignorance. . . .

Then in the third watch of the night, he declared his intention to achieve direct perception of the destruction of evil inclinations, and disciplining himself 338

and persevering, he meditated on the dharmas that are conducive to enlightenment. . . . And he truly realized: “This is the Noble Truth of Suffering; this is the Origination of Suffering; this is the Cessation of Suffering; this is the Noble Truth of the Way leading to the Cessation of Suffering.” Knowing that and seeing that, he was then released from thoughts inclined to sensual desire, he was released from thoughts inclined to rebirth, he was released from thoughts inclined to ignorance. And released, he had a realization of his liberation: “Destroyed is my birth; consumed is my striving; done is what had to be done; I will not be born into another existence!” Thus the Blessed One attained to the highest enlightenment. . . .

¯ h u l a

When the Buddha attained highest enlightenment, Ma¯ra, . . . the evil-minded One, was angry. Making himself invisible, he spitefully had his godlings an-nounce to the city of Kapilavastu: “The bodhisattva Sá¯kyamuni, after practicing austerities and mounting the adamantine throne, has died on his seat of grass.”

Hearing this, King Súddhodana, together with his harem, the princes, and his ministers, was stricken with great sorrow, as was the whole population of Kapilavastu. And . . . Yasódhara¯, remembering the qualities of her husband, fainted and fell on the ground. Recovering her senses when some water was sprinkled on her face, she lamented incessantly, her face ever filled with tears, her words choked with sobs, the women of the harem trying to console her.

Soon, however, seeing that her behavior was in response to a deception, some divinities who had faith in the Buddha declared, “The bodhisattva is not dead, but he has attained highest knowledge.”

Hearing this, King Súddhodana, together with his entourage and the population of Kapilavastu, was transported with great joy.

Now when the Blessed One attained highest knowledge, Yasódhara¯ gave birth to a son. . . . And King Súddhodana, seeing this good fortune, was pleased, happy, delighted, filled with highest joy. He arranged for a great celebration in the city of Kapilavastu. . . . And because, at the time of the boy’s birth, Ra¯hu had caused an eclipse of the moon, the bodhisattva’s son was given the name Ra¯hula.

[Translated in Strong,
Experience of Buddhism,
pp. 10–18]

CONFUSION OVER THE BUDDHA

AS A FERTILITY GOD

In the famous story of Suja¯ta¯, supposedly the first female to convert to Buddhism, the linkage between the Buddha’s spiritual success is again linked to family concerns, and fertility in particular. On the night of his enlightenment, Suja¯ta¯ offers him a bowl of rice-milk and it is due to this rich meal that the
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Buddha is able to achieve enlightenment. However, around this simple act the story develops several layers of complexity. First, Suja¯ta¯ is said to make her offering to the Buddha through misrecognizing him as a tree-spirit whom she thinks responsible for granting her the birth of her son, Yasa. This error in no way ruins her offering, either for her own karmic account, or for the Buddha’s enlightenment that follows. In fact, this erroneous offering opens the door to another cycle of action that more closely links the Buddha’s enlightenment to Suja¯ta¯’s family since, once Yasa has grown up, he, just as the Buddha supposedly had done, one day finds his harem disgusting and leaves. Thus the son that Suja¯ta¯ “mistakenly” thanked the Buddha for turns out to behave just like the Buddha. And, since the story offers no explanation for this odd parallel, one might be tempted to read Yasa’s action as proof that in some way the Buddha’s identity was passed on to him because of his mother’s gift to the Buddha. However one chooses to read that section of the narrative, the connection between this family and the Buddha are more amply developed when Yasa’s father comes to the Buddha to find out what happened to his son—presumably a point of conflict that the story wants to negotiate—and the Buddha magically hides Yasa while he gives the father a dharma lesson. This lesson results in both Yasa and his father awakening to the status of arhants, free forever from samsara. However, the story is not over until Yasa, as a monk, returns one day to beg from his homestead only to use the opportunity to preach dharma to his mother who, too, achieves arhant status.