Buddhism, as with other religious and cultural traditions, has a wealth of stories to teach its ideas and values. Among the varieties of Buddhist stories are the Sutras (the teachings of the Buddha), Jataka stories (stories of the past lives of the Buddha before he was incarnated as Siddartha Gautama), allegories, Bodhisattva stories, parables, and Koans (riddles used by Zen Masters to train their students). Here is a small sampling of Buddhist stories.
The Buddha On Leading the Religious Life
“Any one who should say, ‘I will not lead the religious life until the Buddha shall explain to me either that the world is eternal, or that the world is not eternal… or that the Buddha either exists or does not exist after death,' that person would die, Malunkyaputta, before the Buddha had ever explained this to him.
“The religious life, Malunkyaputta, does not depend on the dogma that the world is eternal nor does the religious life depend on the dogma that the world is not eternal. I have not explained these things because they are not beneficial. Whatever the case, there still remain birth, old age, death, sorrow, lamentation, suffering, grief, and despair.
“And what, Malunkyaputta, have I explained? Suffering have I explained; the origin of suffering have I explained; the end of suffering have I explained; and the path leading to the end of suffering have I explained. And why have I explained this? Because it is beneficial, it belongs to the fundamentals of leading a religious life, leads to peace, to direct knowledge of reality, to enlightenment, to Nirvana.”
Two Monks and the Girl
A thousand years ago in China two monks were travelling together. These monks belonged to a sect of Buddhism that took very strict vows, including not to speak with or have physical contact with any woman so as to avoid all temptation. They were traveling during the rainy season, and they came upon a beautiful young girl, obviously dressed for some kind of party or celebration, standing in the path where it was cut across by a muddy stream, trying to figure out how to get across without muddying her clothes. One of the monks offered to carry her, she climbed on his back and the monk carried her across the muddy stream, putting her down on the other side where they went on their way. The other monk could not believe that his companion had broken his vows of having no contact with women, and all day long seethed with anger as he thought about it. At the end of the day, when they stopped to sleep that night, he could no longer contain himself and exploded with anger, saying: “I can’t believe that you betrayed your vows and carried that woman across the stream. How could you do such a thing?” The other monk thought for a moment, and replied, “I put her down on the other side of the stream, while you’ve been carrying her all day long.”
The Monk, the Rabbit, and the Hunters
A monk was traveling through the mountains in China several centuries ago. He stopped to rest at a fork in the path. In a few minutes, a rabbit came running up the path from the direction the monk had come, and continue quickly onward down the path to the right. Moments later the monk heard the voices of two hunters who were apparently following the rabbit, and soon they appeared at the fork in the path where the monk was resting. They debated about which path to take in pursuit of the rabbit, one of them suggesting that they split up so that they would be sure to catch and kill the rabbit for their supper. They decided first to ask the monk if he had seen the rabbit pass by. The monk, of course, had vowed not to contribute to the taking of life, but he had also vowed not to tell lies. He also understood that by remaining silent he was also responsible for the consequences. What should he do, he asked himself? He faced a dilemma, since whatever he did, he could not avoid breaking a vow. Yes, he told the hunters, he had seen a rabbit. It had taken the path to the left. The hunters thanked him and continued their chase, following the path the rabbit had not taken.
Lung Tan lived for years with his master, T’ien Huang, without receiving from him the teachings of Buddhism. One day he could keep silent no longer. “Master,” he said “I have been with you for years, but you have never taught me anything about the Path to Enlightenment. I beg you to treat me with more compassion.” T’ien Huang said, “I have always shared with you the teachings of Buddha, from the day you entered the monastery. When you bring me my dinner, I thank you; when you bow down in front of me, I also bow my head. Why do you say I have never transmitted to you the essence of the Buddha’s teaching?”
[Adapted from Zen Keys, Thich Nhat Hanh]
A variation goes like this: A monk once asked Zen Master Joju, “I have just entered the monastery. Please teach me, Master.” Joju said, “Have you had breakfast?” “Yes, I have,” replied the monk. “Then,” Joju said, “go wash your bowl.” The monk was enlightened.
[Zen Koan, from The Compass of Zen, Seung Sahn]
A Turtle in the World’s Oceans – An Allegory
Buddhism, like Hinduism, believes in reincarnation. According to Buddhism, it is only as a human that a being has the consciousness to follow the teaching of the Buddha and the possibility of attaining enlightenment. Animals cannot do this since they are driven by instinct, and gods cannot do this since they are distracted by the enjoyments of being a god. Now, imagine that there is a blind and ancient turtle that lives in the world’s oceans. Once every hundred years this turtle comes to the surface somewhere in the oceans. Now, imagine that on the surface of the oceans there floats a single life-preserver. The odds of being reincarnated as a human being are less than the odds of that turtle surfacing through the middle of the life-preserver. That is how rare a human birth is, and therefore how important it is to take advantage of this precious opportunity.
The Sermon on Vulture Peak
The assembly of monks gathered at Vulture Peak to hear the Buddha give a dharma speech. There were more than twelve hundred in attendance. The Buddha sat on the peak but did not open his mouth to speak. One minute passed. Two minutes passed. Three minutes passed. Almost five minutes passed, but still the Buddha would not open his mouth. Some of the monks began wondering, “What is wrong with the Buddha? Why is he not talking? Maybe he’s a little sick today…?” Then after some time, the Buddha reached down and picked a flower. Without a word, the held the flower aloft. In that vast assembly, nobody understood what he meant. But seated in the far back, only Mahakashyapa smiled – “Ahhhhh!” [The Buddha recognized that only Mahakashyapa had understood this teaching of the direct perception of reality.] This caused the Buddha to say, “I have the Eye of the True Law, the secret essence of nirvana, the formless form, and the ineffable realm of Dharma. Without depending on words or letters, a special transmission beyond all teaching, this I pass to Mahakashyapa. With this, Mahakashyapa was recognized as the Buddha’s first successor in a teaching lineage that stretches all the way down to us.
[As told by Seung Sahn in The Compass of Zen]
Master Guji’s Own Voice
In China there was a monk who, though still young, was very famous for having memorized all 84-thousand sutras. Monks came from all over to learn from him, and he became the abbot of a large monastery with hundreds of monks. One day after teaching he went, as was his custom, to sit and meditate under the Cypress tree in his garden. He soon heard a disturbance at the gate, and a tall, severe looking Nun came in demanding to see Master Guji. This was very rude behavior, and he tried to ignore her. She came up to him, and proceeded to walk counter-clockwise around him three times, which was also very disrespectful, and demanded if he was Master Guji, saying she had a very important question for him. Finally, realizing she would not go away, he opened his eyes and admitted he was Master Guji. She said that she had heard that he was the greatest teacher in China. Her tone was very arrogant. “So What?” he shouted. She continued looking down on him, and said, “I hear you teach the sutras. But I don’t like sutras! I want to hear your own true speech. Right now, give me just one word of your own true speech!” Guji was struck dumbfounded and could not answer. His mind went round and round. He thought through all the 84-thousand sutras he had memorized, but nothing appeared. “What is MY true speech? Who am I? I don’t know.” At that moment he had lost all his understanding, and was completely stuck. So, the Nun said, “You, the great Master Guji, don’t even understand your own true speech! How can you possibly teach the Buddha’s speech?” She then marched out the gate and left.
This incident struck Guji like a lightening bolt. He called an assembly of all the monks and announced that he would no longer teach. From then on he only sat in meditation, since he had a great question: Who was he? What was his true speech? The monks soon began to drift away, and after a year only Guji, sitting in meditation on his great question, and his attendant remained in the monastery. One day he heard a knock at the gate. He overheard his attendant telling someone that Master Guji no longer taught, but the visitor insisted that he must see him. Guji realized that the visitor was the great Zen Master Cholyong, who lived secluded in the mountains. Guji had intended to visit Master Cholyong to test himself after he found the answer to his great question of his own true speech.
Master Cholyong, found Master Guji in meditation, and said to him, “I understand that one of my students, a nun, visited you and was very rude. I have come to apologize for her behavior. Master Guji responded that he must not apologize, since her visit had opened his mind. He then said that he had a question for the Zen Master. Ask me anything, and I will gladly answer, replied Master Cholyong. So Master Guji led him into the temple, and asked him to sit on the high rostrum. He then bowed down to the Zen Master and asked, “What is the true meaning of reality?” Cholyong did not say a thing, but only smiled. Looking directly into Guji’s eyes, he slowly raised one finger. When he saw this, Guji’s mind suddenly opened, as if by a bolt of lightening, and he got enlightenment. Now Guji understood Dharma. Master Guji packed his things and went to live in a remote hermitage high in the mountains where he became a very revered Zen Master.
[Adapted, with apologies, from The Compass of Zen, Seung Sahn
