How Human Was the Buddha?
Notwithstanding the alleged aiding and abetting of execution by thunderbolt, the Buddha was a gentle man. He liked quiet environments. He knocked on doors before entering, or coughed to alert people to his presence. He spoke only supportively, or reservedly, or didn’t speak at all, if it didn’t benefit a person. He made it an offense for bhikkhus to frighten other monks with stories of ghosts. He did not force his teaching on others. But, he was strict with monks who trained under his discipline. He had no compunction over dismissing 500 undisciplined novices, or straightening out bhikkhus who harboured pernicious views.
The Buddha was not attached to anything, or anyone (SN III 22:3, SNI 4:24). We must not take this to mean he was indifferent to another’s sufferings, despite appearances. On the death of Sāriputta, Ānanda became distressed.
Why, Ānanda, when Sāriputta attained final Nibbāna, did he take away your aggregate of virtue … concentration … wisdom … liberation … knowledge … vision of liberation? …
But have I not already declared, Ānanda, that we must be parted, separated, and severed from all who are dear and agreeable to us? …
Therefore, Ānanda, dwell with yourselves as your own island, with yourselves as your refuge, with no other refuges, dwell with the Dhamma as your island, with the Dhamma as your refuge, with no other refuges.
SN V 47:13.
Not long after Sāriputta had died, Moggallana also died. The Buddha lauded their services and expressed his amazement at how all Buddhas of the past and future have had, and will have, two chief disciples, and, how these disciples always act in accordance with the Tathagata, comply with admonishments, and are dear and agreeable. Despite this glowing testimony, the Buddha said he felt no lamentation, and no sorrow at their passing.
It is wonderful, bhikkhus, on the part of the disciples, it is amazing on the part of the disciples, that they will act in accordance with the Teacher’s instructions and comply with his admonitions, that they will be dear and agreeable to the four assemblies, that they will be revered and esteemed by them. It is wonderful, bhikkhus, on the part of the Tathagata, it is amazing on the part of the Tathagata, that when such a pair of disciples has attained final Nibbāna, there is no sorrow or lamentation in the Tathagata.
SN V 47:14
Even though the Buddha had reasons for not lamenting anyone’s demise, they do not amount to a precedent to practice indifference towards others. An indispensible ingredient for a successful renunciant life, like the urban life, is love and kindness. Ānanda once asked the Buddha, “Venerable sir, this is half of the holy life, that is, good friendship, good companionship, good comradeship. Not so, Ānanda! Not so, Ānanda! This is the entire holy life (SN V 2:2).”
The Buddha’s reason d’être was to minister to those who could hear, and he did so out of compassion (MN127:22-24). We know he felt satisfaction when a student applied himself, and understood the teaching. When the student wouldn’t, or couldn’t hear, he felt no disappointment (MN137). This gives us a very rare and intimate insight into how the Buddha evaluated, and marshalled his feelings, and thoughts. He actually allowed himself to delight in certain sensations, which is nothing other than knowingly incurring kamma!
But, why skirt with any feelings at all, why not just teach? Because life is indivisible from feelings. Even Buddha’s need feelings to function. We have no motivation without feelings.
In the latter months of his life, the Buddha kept himself alive simply out of compassion for others (DN16:3.35). Despite being motivated by these desires, he was able to detach from them at will. He knew his fire was almost out, and the little kindling he put on it was solely out of compassion. It was not until he had taught all he could, and there was an ample supply of arahants to continue the teaching, that he threw the off-switch. He knew that within a short time, even his kamma based on compassion would atrophy and there would be nothing to bind him to existence.
He informed Ānanda of his imminent Parinibbāna who, somewhat predictably, didn’t take it well. “But, Ānanda, what does the order expect of me? I have taught the Dhamma, Ānanda, making no inner and outer [not exclusively*] … Ānanda, I am now old, worn out (2.25).”
And so, with no more regard for himself than for his chief assistants, Siddhatta Gotama, the Historical Buddha, permanently unbound.
Omniscience
The Buddha is described in the discourses as being omniscient, but we must not take this to mean he was a jukebox for any question that could be put to him. The teaching of the siṃsapā leaves tells us he restricted what he knew to knowledge directly serving unbinding.
Sandaka the wanderer asked Ānanda about an arahant’s omniscience. Even though Ānanda was not an arahant himself, he answered confidently.
Sandaka Sutta Comparison
| Wisdom Publication | Pāli Text Society |
|---|---|
| But, Master Ānanda, when a bhikkhu is an arahant with taints destroy … is his knowledge and vision that his taints are destroyed continuously and uninterruptedly present to him whether he is walking or standing or sleeping or awake? As to that, Sandaka, I shall give you a simile, for some wise men here understand the meaning of the statement by means of a simile. Suppose a man’s hands and feet were cut off. Whether he is walking or standing or sleeping or awake, his hands and feet are continuously and uninterruptedly cut off, but he would know this only when he reviews the fact. So too Sandaka, when a bhikkhu is an Arahant with taints destroyed … his knowledge and vision that his taints are destroyed is not continuously and uninterruptedly present to him whether he is walking or standing or sleeping or awake; rather, he knows ‘My taints are destroyed’ only when he reviews this fact. Sandaka sutta MN76:52 |
Sandaka, it is like a man whose hands and feet have been cut off; whether he is walking or standing still or asleep or awake, constantly and perpetually are his hands and feet as though cut off; and more over while he is reflecting on it he knows: ’My hands and feet are cut off.’ Even so Sandka, whatever monk is a perfected one, the cankers destroyed, who has lived the life, done what has to be done, laid down the burden, attained his own goal, the fetters of becoming utterly destroyed, freed by perfect and profound knowledge, for him whether he is walking or standing still or asleep or awake, the cankers are as though destroyed; and moreover while he is reflecting on it, he knows: ’My cankers are destroyed.’ MN76 |
So the arahant is just like anyone else, in that, unless he looks, he doesn’t know. He does not exist in some ineffable bubble of joy. Contrary to some translations, an arahant has NOT destroyed suffering. An arahant still feels hungry, sleepy, sexual … etc. But unlike ordinary beings, he is able to recognise these phenomena. Whilst respecting them for the purpose of living a sustainable life, he is never overpowered by them. He maintains intimate control of the effect his imaginative faculties have on consciousness. He does not indulge in delight, even though it may be there for the indulging. Similarly, the arahant deals with discomfort (dukha). This is the practice of vipassanā. It prepares the meditator for descent into voidness; the arahant’s refuge. The Buddha described this as the bliss of renunciation, although we should be careful of how we think of this (MN59:16). The bliss of renunciation is respite by true-nothingness.
There was an occasion when King Pasenadi of Kosala was attending to some business in Ujañña, and he took the opportunity to visit the Buddha. He sought verification on something he had heard being passed off as the Buddha’s teaching on omniscience. The King had heard, ‘There is no recluse or Brahmin who is omniscient and all seeing, who can claim to have complete knowledge and vision; that is not possible (MN90:5)’. The Buddha told the King that he had been listening to a misrepresentation, and put the record straight. ‘There is no recluse or Brahmin who knows all, who sees all simultaneously; that is not possible.’ The king was pleased: ‘what the blessed one has said appears reasonable, what the blessed one has said appears to be supported by reason’ (8).
The Buddha’s words are here taken to mean no one knows it all, and, all of what one does know, cannot be cognised simultaneously.
The wanderer Vacchagotta challenged the Buddha directly, on the same points of being all knowing and all seeing, and whether it was continuous.
Vacchagotta Comparison
| Wisdom Publication | Pāli Canon |
|---|---|
| The recluse Gotama claims to be omniscient and all seeing, to have complete knowledge and vision thus: “whether I am walking or standing or sleeping or awake, knowledge and vision are continuously and uninterruptedly present in me.” MN71:5 Tevijjavacchagotta Sutta To Vacchagotta On The Threefold True Knowledge |
“Reverend Sir, I have heard: The recluse Gotama is all knowing, all seeing; he claims all-embracing knowledge and vision, saying; ‘Whether I am walking or standing still or asleep or awake, knowledge and vision is permanently and continuously before me.’ MN71:5 Tevijja-vacchagottasutta Discourse To Vacchagotta On The Threefold True Knowledge |
The Buddha says this is a misrepresentation.
| Wisdom Publication | Pāli Canon |
|---|---|
| Vaccha, if you answer thus: ‘The recluse Gotama has the threefold true knowledge’ you will be saying what has been said by me and will not misrepresent me with what is contrary to the fact. MN71:6 |
— these are not speaking of me in accordance with what has been said; but they are misrepresenting me with what is untrue, not fact.” MN71 |
The Threefold True Knowledges are seeing with the Divine Eye, such as the manifold past lives of oneself and others (7), Deliverance Of Mind, which is the attainment of jhāna and the absorptions, and Deliverance Through Wisdom, which is enlightenment through wisdom (9). This set of abilities is very different from knowing all, and about everything, all the time. What it does say is the Buddha’s omniscience was restricted to knowledge of making the escape from saṃsara.
Prince Abhaya asked the Buddha if his knowledge arose spontaneously. The Buddha gave a simile. Just as a skilled charioteer knows his chariot, so too the Buddha knows the escape from saṃsara (MN58:9-12).
The Buddha’s limited omniscience is reflected in a disaster that struck the Saṅgha in the early years (possibly months) of the Buddha’s teaching ministry. The Buddha decided to go on a two-week solitary retreat, and he gave Ānanda instructions that he was not to be disturbed, except by the person bringing him food. Before he went, he taught the bhikkhus the value of the unlovely contemplations (Reflection on Repulsiveness of the Body, and the Nine Charnel Ground Contemplations). After two weeks of solitary meditation, the Buddha returned and noticed the Saṅgha was smaller in numbers. He asked why, and Ānanda replied that it was because the Buddha had spoken positively about the virtue of developing loathsomeness towards the body. Several bhikkhus began to feel ashamed of their bodies, and so sought out, and recruited a rogue recluse, named Migalaṇḍika, asking him to put an end to their lives. Their belief was that this would then bring about ‘final knowledge’ (SN V 54:9-10). Using a knife, Migalaṇḍika not only dispatched the several bhikkhus, but went on to take the lives of perhaps as many as 60 bhikkhus, not all of whom wanted his service (Volume 1 Suttavibhanga).
This teaching certainly puts some perspective on things. The man whose renunciant teachings went international in his own life-time, influencing the credos and religions of Europe, the Middle East and the orient, did not see this disaster coming.
This discourse is not some regrettable episode, which inadvertently found its way into the Canon. It was included at the considered opinion of Ānanda and the first Council of Arahants. They intended posterity to know of the incident. It isn’t something to hide, but a measure of reality.
We should use the incident to temper our understanding of the renunciant’s effort and what it means to be enlightened. It tells us, even a newly emerged Buddha has a learning curve to go through (in respect of teaching a group) and that a Buddha’s omniscience does not include future gazing.
Cunda and the Question of the Future
We can glean some insight into why the Buddha did not foresee the loss of so many Saṅgha members from a discussion he had with Cunda, the metal smithy. Cunda was concerned about what some wanderers were saying about the Buddha’s omniscience.
Or such wanderers might say: ‘as regards past times, the ascetic displays boundless knowledge and insight, but not about the future, as to what it will be and how it will be.’ That would be to suppose that knowledge and insight about one thing are to be produced by knowledge and insight about something else, as fools imagine. As regards the past, the Tathagata has knowledge of past lives. He can remember as far back as he wishes. As for the future, this knowledge born of enlightenment arises in him: ‘This is the last birth, there will be no more becoming.’
DN29:27
Ascetics criticised the Buddha because his divine eye could reveal so much of the past but, suspiciously, nothing of the future. But the Buddha had no reason to look at the future. He had no ambition, and no reason to plan much beyond daily activities. After all, what use is knowledge of the future, if it is not used to secure a better future? To look into the future is to be concerned, and that is clinging. The laws of kamma do not disappear, even for a Buddha.
The Buddha was allowing his volition for life to atrophy. The only volition he had was short-term, such as, daily requirements and teaching those who could hear, whilst taking no disappointment over those who could not. The Buddha’s prime focus was on preserving his purity of mind until, and throughout, death.
He was not an emissary from god(s). He did not prophesy, and he cautions us about predicting the future using logic alone. Logic is good for clarifying what, and why we believe something, but there is more to understanding the universe than the premises man’s intellect can muster.
Discussion
There are many events in the Canon that should remind us that the Buddha, and the Saṅgha, was a very human affair. If we believe all what we read, the Buddha sometimes smiled at his own thoughts (MN81:3 MN83:2). He once dismissed 500 noisy, novice bhikkhus and then was persuaded it was not the best decision. The Buddha needed sleep (MN36:46). He meditated using a mat and took siestas during the day (DN16:3.1). He had a bad back, which on occasion caused him to ask others to take over his teaching (MN53:5, DN33:1.5). He ate according to his hunger (MN77:9). He endured serious discomfort in old age, and only in signless meditation could he find respite (DN16:2.23-2.25). He even had a sense of humour.
But it is important to qualify his humour. It was self-deprecating, which is an affront to oneself, and therefore selfless. This is very different from poking fun at others, or using humour to aggrandise oneself, which is selfish. The Buddha’s humour was subtle (MN12:52).
The teaching of higher training to laity was not the Buddha’s idea. This inadvertently fell to Sāriputta, whilst giving last rites to layman Sudatta. In fact, the Buddha was very cautious about who he taught higher training to, ascetic or not. This is understandable after the Migalaṇḍika knife incident. The Buddha warns us, that seeking the Dhamma is like a man seeking a snake (MN22:12); both should be approached intelligently.
My description.
Kant also argued the same point in his Critique Of Pure Reason (1781) pointing out that using pure reason to establish metaphysics always produces impossible contradiction.
Footnotes
- The chapter text as supplied did not include numbered footnotes in the same format as previous chapters, so this section has been kept simple for consistency of layout.