This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video Jātakas: Buddhist Storytelling (4 of 4) with Ajahn Sujato. It likely contains inaccuracies.
The following talk was given by Bhante Sujato at the Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, California. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.
For today’s lesson, we’re going to be looking at another Jātaka1 story. In the four Jātaka stories that we’ve chosen for this course, I’ve been trying to select stories that are of interest and that have an intrinsic value and worth, but also ones that will display something of the variety and the details of the different kinds of things that we find in the Jātakas, to try to show how diverse the collection is.
So the first story we looked at, the story of the merchants crossing the desert and encountering the yakkha2 who managed to persuade one caravan to abandon their goods and another caravan to survive. This was a kind of a morality tale in a way, but also one that reflected the commercial conditions and the rise of trade in that era. We learned something about the relationship of the Jātakas to the commercial world as it was changing at the time.
The second one we looked at, the Kaṭṭhahāri-jātaka, was the story of the young girl who had a son by the king, and the story of how the king was persuaded to accept the son as his own. In that one, I argued that the story reflected a lot of deep mythological motifs and the kinds of universal or very ancient motifs that, to me, suggest that it may contain memories, apart from anything else, of the Aryan arrival of Aryan culture into India.
Then the third one we looked at, the Indriya-jātaka, where we saw the rather disturbing story of the Brahmin and the king and their abduction of that poor girl and bringing her up in the tower because of gambling, and how this was construed as being in some way her fault. It gives us an insight into how misogyny works and how no matter what happens, it’s her fault. It’s important to acknowledge that this is a part of the Buddhist tradition. It’s not the whole of the Buddhist tradition; it’s not like everybody just kind of acts like this, but it is there, and we can’t pretend that somehow that it’s not.
For the final talk this evening, we’re going to look at the Samuddavāṇija-jātaka, which offers yet another example of a very interesting Jātaka story. This one’s somewhat longer than the previous one. This one, in some ways, is kind of full circle because it’s in some ways similar to the first one we looked at. It also involves merchants in some way and also involves that dichotomy of like good and bad spirits giving good and bad advice. So there are certainly some parallels with the first one, but it’s actually an incredibly good parable for climate change. It has a lot of really interesting details when it comes to thinking about climate change.
One of the key purposes to which Jātakas have historically been used in Buddhism was as teaching stories, especially for kids. I’ve actually done this on a number of occasions: use this particular story as a way of bringing up climate change and discussing it with kids, and also with adults as well. I think doing it through the lens of a story allows us to explore issues in a way that’s maybe, you know, we can bring up things that might be upsetting or disturbing, but the fact that it’s kind of wrapped up in a story lets us kind of contain those emotions to some degree.
In the past, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, there stood near Benares a great town of carpenters containing a thousand families. The carpenters from this town used to profess that they would make a bed or a chair or a house, and after receiving a large advance from men’s hands, they proved able to make nothing whatever. The people used to upbraid every carpenter they met with and interfered with them. Those debtors were so much harassed that they couldn’t live there no longer. “Let us go to some foreign land,” they said, “and find some place or other to dwell in.” So to the forest they went.
They cut down trees, built a mighty ship, and launched her in the river. Interesting that they weren’t able to make a chair, but they can make a ship. Shows what you can do if you put your mind to it. They took her away from that town at a distance of some three-quarters of a league. They laid her up. Then in the middle of the night, they returned to the town to fetch their families. They conveyed them on board ship and proceeded in due course to the ocean. They sailed at the wind’s will until they reached an island that lay in the midst of the sea.
In that island grew all manner of wild plants and wild fruit trees: rice, sugarcane, banana, mango, jambu, plum, jack, coconut, and whatnot. There was another man who had been shipwrecked and had taken possession of that island before them, and lived therein, eating the rice, and enjoying the sugarcane and all the rest, by which he had grown stout and sturdy. Naked he went, and his hair and beard were grown long.
The carpenters thought, “If yonder island is haunted of yakkhas, we shall all perish, so we’ll explore it.” And seven brave and strong men, armed with the five kinds of weapons, disembarked and explored that island. At that moment, the castaway had just broken his fast and drunk of the juice of the sugarcane, and in high contentment was lying on his back in a lovely spot, cool in the shade on some sand which glistened like silver plate. And he was thinking, “No such happiness as this have they who dwell in Jambudīpa (that is, in India) that plow and sow. Better to me is this island than Jambudīpa.” He uttered this exalted utterance (Udana3) and was at the height of bliss.
The scouts said, “Let’s make acquaintance with him.” Following the sound, they came upon the man, but his aspect horrified them. “It is a yakkha,” they cried, and put arrow to bow. When the man saw them, he was in fear of being wounded, so he cried out, “I am no yakkha, but a man! Spare my life.” “What?” they said, “Do men go all naked and defenseless like you?” They asked him again and again, only to receive the same answer. At last they approached him, and all began to talk pleasantly together. The newcomers asked how he came there. The others told him the truth of it.
“As a reward for your good deeds, you’ve come here,” said he. “This is a first-rate island. There is no need here to work with your hands for a living. Of rice and sugarcane and all the rest, there is no end here, all growing wild. You may live here without anxiety.”
“Is there nothing else,” they asked, “to hinder our living here?”
“No fear is there but this: The isle is haunted by non-human spirits. And the non-human spirits would be incensed to see the excretions of your bodies. So when you would relieve yourselves, dig a hole in the sand and hide it there. That’s the only danger. There is no other. Only always be careful on this point.”
So they took up their abode. Now there were two master workmen, one at the head of each 500 families. One of these was foolish and greedy of the best food; the other one wise and not bent on getting the best of everything. In the course of time, they continued to dwell there and all grew stout and sturdy. Then they thought, “We have not been merry men this long time.” It seems to mean that they haven’t been drinking. “So we’ll make some toddy from the juice of the sugarcane.” So they caused the strong drink to be made, and being drunk, sang, danced, and sported, and then in thoughtlessness relieved themselves here, there, and everywhere without hiding it, so that they made the island foul and disgusting.
The deities were incensed because these men made their dwelling place all foul. “Shall we bring the sea over?” they deliberated, “and cleanse the island? This is the dark fortnight. Now our gathering is broken up. Well, on the 15th day from now, at the first of the full moon, at the time of the moon’s rising, we will bring up the sea and make an end of them all.” Thus, they fixed the day.
At this, a righteous Devaputta4, who was one of them, thought, “I would not that these should perish before my eyes.” So in his compassion, at the time when the men were sitting at their doors in pleasant converse after their evening meal, he made the whole island one blaze of light and, adorned in all splendor, stood poised in the air towards the north and spoke to them thus: “O you carpenters, the deities are angry with you. Dwell no longer in this place, for in half a month from this time, the deities will bring up the sea and destroy you one and all. Therefore, flee from this place.”
Another comrade of his, a cruel Devaputta, thought, “Perhaps they will follow his advice and escape. I’ll prevent their going and bring them all to utter destruction.” So, adorned in divine splendor, he made a great blaze of light over the whole place, approaching them, remained poised in the air towards the south as he asked, “Has there been a Devaputta here?” “There has.” “What has he told you?” They answered, “Thus and thus, my lord.” He said, “This god does not wish you to live here, and in anger speaks. Go not elsewhere, but stay even here.”
The foolish carpenter lifted up his voice and said, “That god who from the southern quarter clear cries out, ‘All safe!’ From him the truth we hear. Fear not, the northern knows no wit. Why grieve? Then take your pleasure, never fearing.” The 500 carpenters who were greedy of good things inclined to the counsel of the foolish carpenter.
But then the wise carpenter refused to hearken to his saying and addressed the carpenters: “While these two yakkhas against each other cry, one calling fear, one security, come heed my advice, lest soon and out of hand you all together perish utterly. Let us all join to build a mighty bark, a vessel stout, and place within this ark all fittings. If this southern one spoke the truth, and the other’s aim but folly of the mark, this vessel for our good at need shall be, nor will we leave this isle incontinently. But if the northern spake truthfully, and the southern did but foolishness present, then in the ship we all embark together, and where our safety lies, all hie us there. Take not for best or worse what you first hear, but whoso lets all pass within the ear, and then deliberating takes the mean, that man to safest harborage will steer.”
Then he said, “Come now, let us follow the words of both the deities. Let us build a ship. And if the words of the first be true, into that ship we should climb and depart. But if the words of the other be true, we should put the ship out of the way and dwell here.”
But then the foolish carpenter said, “Go to! You see a crocodile in a teacup. You are far too slow.” The Pāli is literally, “You see far too long,” which I think means you’re thinking too far ahead in the future. “The first Devaputta spoke in anger against us, the second in affection. If we leave this choicest of isles, whither shall we go? But if you needs must go, take your tail with you and make your ship. We want no ship.”
So the wise man, with those that followed him, built a ship and put all the fittings aboard, and the whole company stood in the ship. Then on the day of the full moon, at the time of the moon rising, up from the ocean a wave arose, and knee-deep it swept over the whole island. The wise man, when he observed the rising of the wave, cut loose the ship. Those of the foolish carpenter’s party, 500 families there were, sat still, saying to one another, “A wave has arisen to sweep over the island, but it will be no deeper.” And then the ocean wave arose waist-deep, then man-deep, then as a palm tree deep. A palm tree is about 12 meters. Then even seven palm trees, and over the whole island it rolled. The wise man, having skill in means, not snared by greed of good things, departed in safety. But the foolish carpenter, greedy of good things, not regarding the fear of the future, with 500 families was destroyed.
The teacher, after his full awakening, said, “Not for the first time, monks, has Devadatta5 been ensnared by pleasures of the present without looking to the future.” Devadatta, of course, was the foolish carpenter. Kokālika6 was the unrighteous Devaputta. Sāriputta7 was the Devaputta who stood in the northern part, and I was myself (that is to say, the Buddha) the wise carpenter. This is the Samuddavāṇija-jātaka, the Jātaka of the ocean traders.
A question from the audience: “Is the fundamental root cause their foolishness or ignorance?”
Well, you can see that the psychology of how the foolish people work. First of all, yes, it’s ignorance, but specifically ignorance of the consequences of their actions. This is the number one thing. But then that ignorance is actually driven by greed. It’s because they enjoy those nice things and they don’t want to stop enjoying those nice things. I see a distinction between avijjā8 and moha9. Avijjā is the unknowing. Moha is like the force that hides the knowing. Because they have their greed, their attachment to enjoying those nice things now, then the moha is that force that twists the reality, hides the truth from them. Moha is this active force that hides the truth. And one of the means that moha uses in order to hide the truth is hatred. You can see that the bad refugee—remember these guys are refugees—is twisting and dividing people against each other. So by promoting hatred is how they get to satisfy their greed. These things are always kind of working together.
I’ve been doing climate activism my whole life, literally since I was 18. I started doing environmental work. And I don’t know what the solution is. People often say, “Well, what can we do? What is the solution?” Look, if you want to know the only actual thing in my view that can actually make a difference, you have to take government power and use government power to shut down the fossil fuel industry. That’s the only thing we can actually reasonably do. So, if you want my advice on what you can do practically, that’s that.
But for those of us that do live still in democracies, then I would urge us to, when it comes time to exercising our voice in our democracies, to not just think about ourselves. We live in a time where it has become sort of politically normal that people think that everyone just votes from their own self-interest. And I don’t think that’s true. Yes, of course, people do vote from their own self-interest, but they also vote because of broader moral concerns. I think that it’s really important for us to reflect about that and to remember that the kids today, literally Gen Alpha kids today who are alive, will see if that sea level rise of 12 meters happens. They’ll be alive when that is real, if they make it that far. So this is something where we have to think outside of ourselves and not just be motivated by selfish actions.
Thank you so much everybody for attending and for bearing with me through this course. Thanks so much to Rob for organizing everything and putting it on. Rob, you’re doing an incredible service for the community and for the Dhamma to bring people together in this kind of way. For all of the crap that’s happening, one of the things that still really means something is to have some community, and especially some spiritual community. I think that this is really important, something for us to bear in mind. Also, for each of us to try to find community in our own region. I know many of you may have community already, or maybe you don’t, but to try to have community in your area, or if you don’t, to try to create community in your area, bring people together. Because there are a lot of people who have a lot of anxiety, a lot of people who feel lonely, a lot of people who feel lost and confused. And we can all try to do something to reach out to others and to try to uplift people with the Dhamma.
Jātaka: A collection of stories in Pāli literature concerning the previous births of the Buddha in both human and animal form. ↩
Yakkha: A broad class of nature-spirits, usually benevolent, who are the caretakers of the natural treasures hidden in the earth and its roots. ↩
Udana: An “inspired utterance” or “exalted utterance,” often a short, pithy verse spoken by the Buddha or another enlightened being. ↩
Devaputta: Literally “son of a deva” or “son of a god.” A type of celestial being in Buddhist cosmology. ↩
Devadatta: A cousin of the Buddha who became a monk but later turned against him, attempting to usurp leadership of the Sangha and even to kill the Buddha. He is a common antagonist in the Jātaka stories. ↩
Kokālika: A monk who was a follower of Devadatta and known for his slanderous speech against the Buddha’s chief disciples, Sāriputta and Moggallāna. ↩
Sāriputta: One of the two chief male disciples of the Buddha, renowned for his wisdom. ↩
Avijjā: (Pāli) Ignorance or delusion; the fundamental ignorance of the nature of reality, specifically the Four Noble Truths. It is the primary root of suffering. ↩
Moha: (Pāli) Delusion or confusion. It is one of the three unwholesome roots (along with greed and hatred) and represents the active force of delusion that clouds the mind and prevents clear seeing. ↩