by Andy Rotman
and established me in heaven and liberation.
Well done, my son! With great effort,1163
you have accomplished an incredible deed.
The venerable Mahākātyāyana then established that good daughter1164 in the [four noble] truths and said, “Mother, farewell. I’m going now.”
“Son,” she said, “if that’s the case, give me something1165 so that I can stay here and still offer worship.”
He gave her his staff. [581] She constructed a stūpa and in it mounted that [staff].1166 And so it came to be known as the Staff Stūpa. Even today monks who venerate shrines venerate it.
The venerable Mahākātyāyana, wanting to travel to the Middle Country, arrived in Sindhu. That [guardian] deity living in the North Country said this to the venerable Mahākātyāyana: “Noble one, give me some token so that I can stay here and still offer worship.”
He reflected, “The Blessed One has said that shoes1167 are not to be worn in the Middle Country. I’ll offer them to her.”1168 So he gave his shoes to her.1169 She built two altars, placing them inside. The site came to be known as Pūleśvara (Lord of Shoes).1170
In due course the venerable Mahākātyāyana arrived in Śrāvastī. Seeing him, the monks said, “Welcome! Welcome, venerable one! Did your travels go well?”
“Venerable ones,” he said, “in some measure they were pleasant and in some measure unpleasant.”
“What was pleasant and what was unpleasant?” the monks asked.
“The service I did for sentient beings—that was pleasant,” he said. “King Śikhaṇḍin and the residents of Roruka1171 burying me under a pile of dirt, and the chief ministers Hiru and Bhiru barely escaping—that was unpleasant.”
Then some petty1172 monks there said with scorn, “That father-killer murdered the venerable Rudrāyaṇa, who had attained arhatship and who did no wrong and caused no harm.1173 This is only the flower for him. The fruit will be something else entirely.”
Some monks in doubt asked the Lord Buddha, the remover of all doubts, “Bhadanta, what deed did the venerable Rudrāyaṇa do so that he was born in a family that was rich, wealthy, and prosperous; went forth as a monk in the Blessed One’s order where, by ridding himself of all defilements, he directly experienced arhatship; and having obtained arhatship was then killed by a sword?”
The Blessed One said, “The deeds that the monk Rudrāyaṇa1174 has performed and accumulated have now come together, and their conditions have matured. They remain before him like an oncoming flood and will certainly come to pass. Those deeds were performed and accumulated by Rudrāyaṇa. Who else will experience their results? [582] For those deeds that are performed and accumulated, monks, do not mature outside of oneself—neither in the element of earth nor in the element of water, in the element of fire or in the element of wind. Instead, those deeds that are performed and accumulated, both good and bad, mature in the aggregates, the elements, and the sense bases that are appropriated when one is reborn.
Actions never come to naught,
even after hundreds of millions of years.
When the right conditions gather and the time is right,
then they will have their effect on embodied beings.
The Hunter and the Deer Park
Previously, monks, in a time gone by—when no lord buddhas are born, solitary buddhas can arise in the world.1175 They have compassion for the poor and neglected, they live in remote areas, they are [solitary] like the rhinoceros, and they alone are worthy of people’s offerings.
Now in a certain market town there lived a hunter. And not far from that town was a pond that was a refuge for many deer. Every day the hunter would [go there and] set many traps and bait snares for the decimation, destruction, and death of many deer. Those traps and baited snares of his never failed.
Meanwhile a solitary buddha, after traveling through the countryside, arrived at that market town and stayed in a temple there for a day and night.1176 In the morning, he got dressed, took his bowl and robe,1177 and entered the market town for alms. After wandering for alms, he reflected, “During the day the temple is crowded. I’ll eat my alms and pass my time outside of town in a peaceful place.” He left town, and as he approached the pond, he thought, “This is a peaceful place—yes, this is a peaceful place.”
Having approached the pond, he placed his bowl and strainer1178 off to one side, washed his feet, rinsed his hands, strained water, gathered dried leaves, and sat down. When he finished his meal, he rinsed his hands, mouth, and bowl,1179 placed his bowl and strainer back in their proper place, washed his feet, sat down at the base of a tree, and crossing his legs so that he was curled up like the winding coil of a sleeping snake king, remained in this peaceful posture.
On that day, because of the smell of a human, not even a single deer was captured. The hunter got up at dawn and approached the pond. He checked his traps and baited snares,1180 but he didn’t see even a single deer. [583] It occurred to him, “Those traps and baited snares of mine always catch something. Why is it that today not even a single deer was caught?” So he began to search all around the pond. He saw human footprints, and he followed those tracks until he saw that solitary buddha sitting in a peaceful posture. He reflected, “Peaceful beings who have gone forth as monks enjoy themselves in places like this. If I don’t destroy him today, he’ll surely destroy my livelihood. Certainly he must be killed.”
Then the hunter, who was cruel at heart and who had abandoned any concern for the next world, drew to his ear his bow, which was the size of an elephant’s trunk,1181 and then struck the solitary buddha in a vital point with a poisoned arrow. That great being, the solitary buddha, reflected, “Let this poor hunter not be forever beaten and battered. I’ll give him a helping hand.” So like a royal goose with outstretched wings, he flew high into the sky and began to perform the miraculous deeds of causing fire and heat, making rain and lightning.
Magic quickly wins over the ordinary person. Like a tree cut down at the roots, the hunter fell prostrate at the solitary buddha’s feet and said, “Come down! Come down, O you who are so righteous and worthy of offerings! Offer me a helping hand, for I am mired in the mud of defilement!”
Out of compassion for the hunter, the solitary buddha descended. Then he extracted the arrow from his body and applied a poultice.
“Noble one,” the hunter said, “let us go to my home. Whatever little bit of gold there is to give away, I’ll make sure it reaches you.”1182
Then the solitary buddha reflected, “Whatever I was to achieve with this foul body [has been achieved].1183 Now it is time that I pass into that peaceful realm of remainderless nirvāṇa.” Right in front of the hunter, the solitary buddha again ascended into the sky, displayed various miracles, and then passed into the realm of remainderless nirvāṇa.
That hunter was wealthy, so he built a funeral pyre with all kinds of scented woods, set fire to it, and later extinguished it with milk. The hunter then placed the solitary buddha’s bones in a new pot1184 and established a stūpa for his remains.1185 Umbrellas, flags, and banners were raised there, and then the hunter honored it with offerings of perfume, garlands, and incense, fell prostrate before it, and made this fervent aspiration: “Although I have committed a terrible offense against one so righteous and worthy of offerings, may I not suffer from this deed. And since I have also performed a good deed, by this root of virtue may I be reborn in a family that is rich, wealthy, and prosperous, [584] and may I obtain such virtues so that I may please and not displease a teacher even more distinguished than this one!”
“Monks, what do you think? The hunter at that time and at that juncture was none other than the monk Rudrāyaṇa. Since he struck a solitary buddha in a vital point with a poisoned arrow, as a result of that action, he burned in hell for many hundreds of years, many thousands of years, and because of the karma remaining from that act, five hundred times he has been reborn as a deer at this very pond and then struck in a vital point with a poisoned
arrow.1186 Even today, after obtaining arhatship, he died by the sword.”
Once again some monks in doubt asked the Lord Buddha, the remover of all doubts, “Bhadanta, what deed did Śīkhaṇḍin, the residents of Roruka, and the venerable Mahākātyāyana do so that they were buried under piles of dirt, while the chief ministers Hiru and Bhiru escaped?”
“Monks,” the Blessed One said, “the deeds that they themselves performed and accumulated have now come together, and their conditions have matured. They remain before them like an oncoming flood and will certainly come to pass. Those deeds were performed and accumulated by them. Who else will experience their results? For those deeds that are performed and accumulated, monks, do not mature outside of oneself—neither in the element of earth nor in the element of water, in the element of fire or in the element of wind. Instead, those deeds that are done, both good and bad, mature in the aggregates, the elements, and the sense bases that are appropriated when one is reborn.
Actions never come to naught,
even after hundreds of millions of years.
When the right conditions gather and the time is right,
then they will have their effect on embodied beings.”
A Girl Throws Garbage on a Solitary Buddha
Monks, previously, in yet another market town, there lived a householder. He brought home a girl from an appropriate family as his wife, and with her he fooled around, enjoyed himself, and made love. From fooling around, enjoying himself, and making love, a son was born. Then, from once again fooling around, enjoying himself, and making love, a daughter was born.1187 When daughters were born in that town, suitors would eventually come to them with proposals of marriage. [585] But no one came for her.
When no buddhas are born, solitary buddhas can arise in the world. They have compassion for the poor and neglected, they live in remote areas, and they alone are worthy of people’s offerings.
Meanwhile a solitary buddha, after traveling through the countryside, arrived in that market town. The girl, who was cleaning her house, threw her garbage over the railing. It fell on the head of that solitary buddha as he was wandering for alms.
That girl saw the garbage fall on the solitary buddha’s head, but she felt no regret. By chance,1188 on that very day a suitor came for her.
“What did you do today so that a suitor came for you?”1189 her brother asked.
“I threw some garbage on that solitary buddha,” she explained.
Her brother smiled.
Then that girl informed another girl,1190 and she informed yet another.1191 And so this heretical belief arose in people’s minds: “When suitors approach a young woman for marriage, she should throw garbage on that solitary buddha.”
All solitary buddhas, great beings that they are, recoil from dishonor. And so that solitary buddha left town. Then the young women in town began to throw garbage on top of seers who possessed the five superhuman faculties. They left town as well. Then they began to throw garbage on top of their parents.
In that market town there lived two virtuous1192 householders. “Friends,” they said,1193 “this is a false dharma that is spreading.1194 It must be stopped!” Once admonished by those two householders, young women in town stopped their dishonorable ways.
“What do you think, monks? That girl who threw garbage on a solitary buddha was none other than Śikhaṇḍin. The residents of that market town were none other than the residents of Roruka. Since they propagated a heretical belief about solitary buddhas,1195 as a result of that action, they were buried under a pile of dirt. The two householders who stopped them were none other than the chief ministers Hiru and Bhiru.1196 As a result of that action, they escaped. That girl’s brother who smiled was none other than the monk Kātyāyana. Since he smiled, as a result of that action, he was buried under a pile of dirt. Had he not smiled, he wouldn’t have been buried under a pile of dirt.1197 [586] If he had developed a heretical view, then when the monk Kātyāyana was buried under a pile of dirt, he would have straightaway met with his death.
“And so, monks, the result of absolutely evil actions is absolutely evil, the result of absolutely pure actions is absolutely pure, and the result of mixed actions is mixed. Therefore monks, because of this, you should reject absolutely evil actions and mixed ones as well and strive to perform only absolutely pure actions. It is this, monks, that you should learn to do.”
The monks rejoiced at the words of the Blessed One.
So ends the Rudrāyana-avadāna, the concluding chapter in the glorious Divyāvadāna.
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Appendix
The Cosmos According to the Divyāvadāna
Buddhist cosmology normally divides life within saṃsāra into three realms—the desire realm, the form realm, and the formless realm. The Divyāvadāna mentions the various existences and heavens in the desire realm as well as the seventeen heavens in the form realm, but it doesn’t mention the four spheres in the formless realm, which are populated by a class of gods with minds but no physical bodies.
These three realms are inhabited by five types of beings: gods, humans, hungry ghosts, animals, and hell beings. Other Buddhist cosmologies include a realm of antigods (asuras) between those of humans and hungry ghosts. The Divyāvadāna mentions the antigods and Vemacitrin, one of their chiefs, but they do not seem to inhabit their own level of existence.
Other materials also describe a correspondence between psychology and cosmology, such that one’s state of mind corresponds to one’s level of existence. For example, beings in the desire realm (kāmadhātu) tend to have thoughts within the sphere of desire (kāmāvacara), and beings that attain high levels of meditative awareness psychically visit, as it were, the levels of existence of higher classes of beings. The Divyāvadāna, however, does not discuss this connection.
The chart that follows presents the various types of beings, the realms and levels of existence that they inhabit, and their average lifespans.1198 Please read it as two long columns.
Notes
1As an example, see the ways that Dölpa, Gampopa, and Sakya Paṇḍita (2015: 115, 169, 228, 407, 417), great Tibetan scholars from the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, integrate into their expositions of Buddhist practice various stories that are preserved in the Divyāvadāna—although they likely knew these stories from their versions in the Mūlasarvāstivāda-vinaya.
2See too Maria Heim’s (2014: 181–216) exploration of how Buddhaghosa, the great fifth-century commentator, understands Buddhist stories and “their capacity to produce affective experience.” As Heim (2014: 214) explains, “Stories reflect on action in particular ways and value a particularism that does not necessarily lead to universals or to grand theory. They are open in important ways to multiple interpretations, and they place value on the process of puzzling through the opacity of human action.”
3See, for example, Mukhopadhyaya 1954, Sharma 1992, and Miyazaki, Nagashima, Tamai, and Liqun 2015. See too DS 4.
4See too Klaus 1983: 5–22.
5Cowell and Neil (Divy vi) explain that “all these mss., except F, are thus only modern copies, made with more or less care from one original, which is now in the possession of Pandit Indrānand of Patan, Nepal,” and which, they note, Cecil Bendall examined and dated to the seventeenth century. The manuscript tradition, however, may not be so singular. Jonathan Silk (2008c: 67) quotes an email from Hengo Harimoto, who identifies this ur-manuscript as one filmed by the Nepal-German Manuscript Preservation Project: “This manuscript (NGMPP reel A 123/6, National Archives Kathmandu acc. no. 3/295) is most likely the one once seen by Bendall . . . Having said that, I am very skeptical that this manuscript was the source of all the other mss. Cowell and Neil used.” Still, the manuscripts of the Divyāvadāna appear to be quite uniform. As Silk (2008a: 138) writes of his experienc
e reediting the Dharmaruci-avadāna, “I have spot-checked one Kyoto University manuscript (Goshima and Noguchi 1983: no. 49), and slightly more carefully one Tokyo University manuscript (Matsunami 1965: no. 187). Unfortunately, both are of almost no help in correcting the edition, and there is little point to recording their errors.” For more on the Divyāvadāna’s manuscript history, see DS 8–15. See too Formigatti 2016.
6For more on the hazards of this practice, see Silk 2008c. See too Pollock 2011. Often, however, there isn’t that much to change. As Silk (2008c: 66n 25) goes on to observe: “In my study of a portion of the Dharmarucy-avadāna, for which I was able to compare the Nepalese tradition recorded in the 1886 edition of Cowell and Neil with the text found in centuries earlier Gilgit manuscripts, I discovered less variation between the traditions than I expected, although Cowell and Neil’s text can be corrected in numerous instances.” Even Satoshi Hiraoka (HA, HC, HD), who has compared the stories in the Divyāvadāna with other Sanskrit sources, as well as Tibetan and Chinese translations and so on, suggests only a minimum of emendations.
7To gain some sense of the difficulty of comparing the two texts, see Vogel and Wille’s (GM-Saṅgh 291–93) translation of the final portion of the Sanskrit version of the Saṅgharakṣita-avadānathat is preserved in the Mūlasarvāstivāda-vinaya. Note the numerous discrepancies in the footnotes between the Sanskrit and Tibetan versions of the text, and compare their translation to my translation of the corresponding section in the Divyāvadāna (Divy 343–44).
8For a revised edition of part of the text (Divy 254.3–262.6), see Silk 2008a: 138–45. For translations, see Zimmer 1925: 1–79 and Hiraoka 2007: i, 424–69. For partial translations, see Silk 2008a: 145–52 and Strong 2002: 19–23 (Divy 246.5–253.27). For an erudite study of the story, see Silk 2009. For Sanskrit parallels, see GBM 1354.4–1358.8 [cf. Divy 254.4–262.6] and GBM 1474.1–1483.8 [cf. Divy 254.4–260.11]—cf. Silk 2008a: 178–83; Mahāvastui, 231.17–243.11 [cf. Divy 246.5–254.2] and 243.12–248.4 [cf. Divy 254.3–261.24, 228.22–233.16, and 234.4–241.16]; and Avadānakalpalatā no. 89 (Silk 2008a: 153–70; Rani 2005: 82–84 and woodcut L-10; Tucci 1949: ii, 521 and plate 125). For an interesting Jain reworking, see Lefeber 1995: 427–29. There is no corresponding Tibetan text. For more, see Lamotte 1944: i, 409–15; Hiraoka 2007: i, 460; HC 61; and Grey 2000: 85–87.
