Part 3 - The Story of Venerable Mahā Kassapa

When the funeral ceremony of the Buddha was thus taking place in Kusināra, the Venerable Mahā Kassapa had finished the alms-round in the city of Pāvā. And, with his mind set on going to Kusināra, he was on his way from Pāvā to Kusināra, accompanied by five hundred bhikkhus. On his way, he left the road and sat underneath a tree together with his company of bhikkhus.

(He sat there, not to pass the day (as of routine) but to take a rest. Here is the explanation: All the companion bhikkhus had been brought up in an easy way. So when they travelled on foot under the scorching heat of noon, they were tired out. The Venerable Mahā Kassapa saw how tired his followers were. The journey was not long ahead. There was time for rest and they would proceed in the cool of the evening and see the Buddha. That was what was in the mind of the Venerable Mahā Kassapa. He sat at the foot of a tree, had his great robe spread on the ground, and cooled his limbs with the water from his water-container. Some of the companion bhikkhus were meditating while others were discussing the glory of the Triple Gem.)

At that time a wandering ascetic was approaching them on the road from Kusināra heading for Pāvā. He was holding a celestial Mandāvara flower above his head with a stick as the prop of an umbrella.

The Venerable Mahā Kassapa noticed the celestial Mandāvara flower held in the ascetic’s hand. He knew that this flower is not seen on earth at all times and that it appears on earth only on such rare occasions as when some person of great power carries out an exercise in his psychic power, or when a Buddha-to-be takes conception in his mother’s womb. "But,” he reflected, “this is not the day when some powerful person is carrying out an exercise in his psychic power, nor is it the day the Buddha-to-be takes conception, nor the day he is being born, nor the day he attains Enlightenment, nor the day He delivers the Dhammacakka, the First-Sermon, nor the day He displays the Twin Miracle, nor the day He descends from the Tāvatiṃsa Deva realm, nor the day He relinquishes the life-maintaining mental process. (Hence), our Teacher, being of ripe old age, this must be the day He has passed away.”

The Venerable Mahā Kassapa wanted to (verify his deduction and) asked the wandering ascetic. But if he were to mention about the Buddha in his sitting posture it might be lacking in respect, so he thought, and therefore he rose up and moving a few steps away from where he was sitting, he covered his head with the dark brown robe made from dust heap rags which the Buddha had offered him in exchange, just as the chaddanta white elephant would cover his head with ruby-studded ornamental head-dress, and putting his ten fingers, with their lustre aglow, together in the raised hands atop his forehead, he stood facing the wandering ascetic and asked him: “Friend, do you know our Teacher?”

Herein, it might be asked: “Did the Venerable Mahā Kassapa know the demise of the Buddha or did he not?” The Commentaries reject the idea that he did not know. The reasons for assuming that he knew are given by the Commentators thus: There was no reason to believe that the Venerable Mahā Kassapa did not know the demise of the Buddha since the great earthquake that took place in all the ten thousand world-systems could not go unnoticed by him.

The reason why he asked the wandering ascetic was this: “Some bhikkhus who were with him had seen the Buddha in person while others had not. Those who had seen the Buddha wanted to see Him again (just because they had seen Him before); those who had never seen the Buddha also wanted to see Him because they had not seen Him before.

“If someone did not break the news of the demise of the Buddha before they arrived at Kusināra and on their arrival there, only to find the Bhagavā had already gone, they would not be able to contain their grief and they would weep and wail and made a wretched spectacle of themselves, throwing away their upper garment, or donning the robes improperly, or beating their breasts. People seeing them would say: ‘The company of bhikkhu that come with the Venerable Mahā Kassapa, all rag-wearers, are crying like women. If they cannot restrain themselves, how could they be able to give comfort to us?’ And so I shall have to bear the blame for them. This is a remote place here. If, on hearing the bad news, these bhikkhus should cry, and cry as much as they like, the blame will not fall on me, (for no other follower of the Buddha is here to see them). If these bhikkhus are to receive the sad news early they would not (get the shock on arrival at Kusināra and) suffer grief.”

On being asked by the Venerable Mahā Kassapa, the wandering ascetic replied: “Yes, friend, I know of Him. It is seven days now since Samara Gotama passed away. As a matter of fact, I have brought this celestial Mandārava flower from the place of His demise.”

Thereupon, some of the bhikkhus who were with the Venerable Mahā Kassapa and had not abandoned attachment, wailed with their arms upraised; they flung themselves down rolling in all directions, all the while lamenting: “All too soon has the Bhagavā realized Parinibbāna! All too soon has the Well-spoken one realized Parinibbāna! All too soon has the Possessor of the Eye of Wisdom vanished from the world!”

But, those among them who were free from sensual attachment bore the news with fortitude, contemplating that “all conditioned things are impermanent by nature, and hence how would it be possible to find any permanence in this conditioned nature?”

Story of Subhadda who became A Bhikkhu at A Late Age

Now, at that time, there was an elderly bhikkhu among the Venerable Mahā Kassapa’s five hundred bhikkhus and who became a bhikkhu only late in his life, named Subhadda. When the other bhikkhus were crying and wailing helplessly, he said these ugly words to them: “Enough, friends. Do not grieve. Do not lament. Only now we are all well liberated from that great Samaṇa. He had been hard upon us, always saying: ‘This is proper for you; that is not proper for you.’ Now we are free to do what we like, and equally free not to do what we do not like.”

Subhadda’s Grudge against The Buddha

“Why did Bhikkhu Subhadda say those horrendous words?” it might be asked. The answer: “Because he bore a grudge against the Buddha.”

Now to relate the story: Subhadda was a barber by profession before he became a bhikkhu. He had two sons, both sāmaṇeras, living together with him in the town of Ātuna, who were gifted with pleasant speech and well-known as skilful barbers. Once, when the Buddha went to Ātuna from Kusināra with a company of one thousand two hundred and fifty bhikkhus, he received the news of the happy event and, intending to offer a great offering of rice gruel, he said to his two sāmaṇera sons: “Sons, the Bhagavā is coming to Ātuna with one thousand two hundred and fifty bhikkhus. Go now, sons, carry your barber’s tools with you, and collect, in vessels or in bags, from every house in the town whatever provisions, such as rice, oil, salt, and other eatables, being offered. Let us prepare rice gruel with those things and offer gruel to the Bhagavā."

Subhadda’s two sāmaṇera sons obeyed the instruction of their father. Thanks to their melodious speech and skill of their profession, the towns people sponsored them in their trade. Even those who did not actually needed a hair cut or a hair-do submitted themselves to them. After the job was done they asked the sāmaṇera barbers: “Sons, what would you like as fees?” They would reply: “We are planning to offer rice gruel when the Bhagavā come to our town. So we want only the necessary ingredients to make rice gruel.”

And the people were generous in their gifts to the sāmaṇeras. They did not even consider those gifts of rice, oil, salt and other eatables as fees. The provisions collected were of such an abundance that they could not carry them home. Instead, the donors had to help to carry them.

Then with the arrival in Ātuna of the Buddha and entering the straw-thatched monastery, Bhikkhu Subhadda went to the village gate in the evening and announced to the towns people: “Disciples, I do not want any other thing but utensils to cook rice gruel from the provisions which my young sons have collected. I also would like you to lend a hand in the preparation of the rice gruel.” Then after making ready the cooking place, he personally supervised the operations, with the dark-brown loin cloth and the dark brown upper robe on. He prepared a special kind of gruel worth a hundred thousand which was to be in solid form and had to be first eaten and then drank. The gruel contained ghee, honey, molasses, fish, meat, nectar, fruit juices, etc. It smelt like hair pomade and was also suitable to be used as such. Besides this rich rice gruel, he also prepared honey-cakes.

The Buddha, rising early, and having finished the ablutions, went to the town of Ātuna, accompanied by a big followership of bhikkhus, for alms-round. The people informed Bhikkhu Subhadda: “The Bhagavā is now on the alms-round. For whom is the rice-gruel being prepared?”

Bhikkhu Subhadda, in his usual garb of dark brown robes, sat in the Brahmā sitting posture (i.e. with his right knee-top placed on the ground) and holding a ladle and a big spoon in one hand, paid homage to the Buddha and said: “May the Venerable Bhagavā accept my thick gruel as food offering.”

The Buddha inquired after how the food had been made, what ingredients were used, etc. (as described in Vinaya Mahāvagga, 6-Bhesajjakkhandha) and being told of the facts, He reprimanded Bhikkhu Subhadda on a number of counts. The Buddha then laid down fresh Vinaya rules: (i) Akappiyasamādāna, taking upon oneself improper activity which is liable to dukkaṭa offence; and (ii) Khurabaṇḍa pariharaṇa, keeping up the outfit of a barber by one who had been a barber which is also liable to dukkaṭa of offence.

He also enjoined the bhikkhus from accepting Bhikkhu Subhadda’s rice gruel in these words:

“Bhikkhus, you have spent millions and millions of aeons in search of food. The food now offered by Bhikkhu Subhadda is improper for bhikkhus. If you take this food, you will suffer in the four miserable states for thousands of existences. Bhikkhus, move away. Do not accept the food.” After saying so, the Buddha proceeded to the alms-collecting area of the town. None of the bhikkhus accepted any of the thick gruel that Bhikkhu Subhadda offered.

Bhikkhu Subhadda was greatly disappointed: “This Samaṇa goes about declaring: ‘I am Omniscient.’ If He could not accept my offering, He ought to send someone to say so. My food is totally spoilt and wasted. Cooked food cannot last seven days at the most. If it were not yet cooked the provisions could have lasted for my whole life. This Samaṇa has ruined me. He is inimical (antagonistic) to me.” Thus ruminated Bhikkhu Subhadda. He bore a grudge against the Buddha. But he knew that: ‘This Samaṇa Gotama comes from the Sakyans, a superior social class. If I were to say anything, I could only face oppression,’ and so he did not murmur while the Buddha was alive.

Now that he heard the news that the Buddha was no more, he felt at ease and was greatly pleased. Hence his vulgar remarks.

Venerable Mahā Kassapa’s Plan

On hearing the wild remarks uttered by Bhikkhu Subhadda, Venerable Mahā Kassapa was very concern. It was as though his heart was dealt a blow, or as though he was struck by thunder on the head. “Alas, barely seven days have passed since the Teacher passed away. His golden-hued body is still in existence. How soon has such a bad bhikkhu, the scum of the religion, the thorn to the Order of Bhikkhus arisen to threaten the existence of the Teaching that the Bhagavā had so painfully set up. If such a bhikkhu were to be left unchecked the number of his kind would grow to the detriment of the Teaching.” Thus an emotional religious awakening occurred to the Venerable Mahā Kassapa.

Then the idea of convening a Council of Bhikkhus to recite and approve the Doctrine was conceived by him, through the thoughts described as follows:

“If I were to expel, on the spot, this old bhikkhu, who is a later life entrant to the Order, deriding him and sprinkling his body with ash, the people would say: ‘Even when the remains of Samaṇa Gotama are still in existence, His disciples are already in disharmony.’ I must, therefore, hold my patience.

“For the teachings of the Bhagavā are at present like a big heap of flowers not strung into garlands. Just as a lose heap of flowers could very well be blown away in all directions by winds, as time passes on and on, bhikkhus of Subhadda’s sort would work havoc to the Vinaya Piṭaka by one or two rescissions at first, the Suttanta Piṭaka would be diminished by revocation, at first of one or two dialogues; the Abhidhamma Piṭaka would suffer by omission of one or two of the ultimate things, at first out of the existing doctrines, such as things pertaining to the Sensuous Sphere, things pertaining to the Fine Material Sphere, things pertaining to the Non-Material Sphere, and things Supramundane. In this manner, the disappearance of the Teaching would come about, piṭaka by piṭaka, in turn. If the Teaching rooted in the Suttanta, the Vinaya and the Abhidhamma were to disappear, we (i.e. all the world) would have nothing to stand on: Where the branches of a tree are cut off, the guardian spirit of that tree can dwell in the stem of the tree; if the stem is destroyed the spirit can dwell in the roots; but if the roots are destroyed then the spirit will be rendered homeless. If the three Baskets (piṭakas) were to disappear, there would be nothing that the followers of the Buddha could point out as their religion.”

(To take another simile: The father demon has entrusted his demon son the charm that can make its holder invisible. If the demon son loses this charm through forgetfulness or by being robbed of it, then he would be totally helpless. Similarly, if the piṭakas were to be lost then we all are lost.)

Therefore, we shall convene a Council of Bhikkhus and recite the Doctrine and the Discipline. By doing so, we would be putting the Teaching in proper order that would withstand assault just as flowers are carefully strung into garlands.

“The Bhagavā had come to Kusināra after travelling three gāvutas to enable me to pay my last respects to Him. He had admitted me into the Order of Bhikkhus after three chapters of admonition. He had given me the robes He was wearing, in exchange for the robes I was wearing. When He discoursed on ‘the practice with the similes of the moon’, He referred to me by way of example. In these three events, He showed His intention of leaving the custodianship of His Teaching to me. (Refer the three discourses concerning Admonition, in Kassapa Saṃyutta). So long as a true son of the Bhagavā as myself is living, let this wicked man not grown in his influence in this Teaching. Before depravity gets a footing, before depravity mars the true Dhamma, before new fangled rules gain ground, before spurious regulations obstruct the Vinaya, before miscreants hold sway, before upholders of righteousness are on the wane, before those people who misrepresent the Bhagavā become a strong force, before the faithful exponents of the Bhagavā’s Teaching are on the wane, I shall see to it that a council is convened to recite and unanimously approve the Suttanta, the Vinaya and the Abhidhamma. When such a council is convened, bhikkhus will learn the Teaching as much as they are capable of, and discuss the Vinaya on the matters that are proper and that are improper. When such a session is held, this wicked old bhikkhu will know where he stands and will be duly chastised and he will never be able to show his face. And (above all), the Buddha’s Teaching will become well-defined and it will prosper.”

These thoughts occurred to the Venerable Mahā Kassapa. However, he did not confide his plan to any bhikkhus or to any other person. He simply consoled the lamenting bhikkhus by his discourse on the high doctrine thus:

“Enough, friend bhikkhus, do not grieve. Do not weep. Had not the Bhagavā previously expounded to you that it is in the very nature of things most near and dear to us that we must part with them somehow, even while we are living, or when death divides us, or when we are of different planes of existence? Friends, in this matter, how could one expect anything that has the nature of arising, of appearing, of being conditioned, and of dissolution, not to disintegrate? It is not possible for anyone to wish so.”

The Mallas cremated The Body of The Buddha

Then four of the most senior Malla princes (of robust physique) washed their heads, donned themselves in new clothes, and intending to set fire to the funeral pyre of the Buddha, ignited it; but, try as they would, the pyre did not catch fire at all.

(Herein, the pyre of fragrant woods was a hundred and twenty cubits high, when four strong men failed to ignite it, eight were engaged in it and when eight failed too, sixteen, and again thirty two men were put to the task. All means to help ignite were also employed such as fanning and even blowing with the smith’s bellows. But all in vain.

This may be explained: The eighty great disciples of the Buddha had great followership devoted to them, when these people, numbering eighty thousand, passed away they were reborn in the deva realms. Among these devas, the devas who had particular devotion to the Venerable Mahā Kassapa, when they were lay supporters of the bhikkhu, saw the critical situation that their esteemed bhikkhu was still on the way from Pāvā to Kusināra. So they made their wish that this funeral pyre be not ignitable until he arrived on the scene. It was due to their will that no amount of human effort could ignite the funeral pyre.)

Then the Malla princes asked the Venerable Anuruddha about the reason the funeral pyre remained unburnt. He replied to them: “The devas wish otherwise.”

“Venerable Sir, what is the wish of the devas?”

“Vaseṭṭhas, the Venerable Mahā Kassapa is now on his way from Pāvā to Kusināra, in the company of five hundred bhikkhus. The devas have willed that, until he has paid homage at the Bhagavā’s feet, the funeral pyre of scented woods would remain unburnt.” “Venerable Sir, let the wish of the devas prevail,” replied the Malla princes.

When the people heard that a bhikkhu, named Venerable Mahā Kassapa, was coming to pay homage at the feet of the Buddha, and that the funeral pyre of scented woods would not catch fire until he had done so, they were agog with excitement. “Friends, is that Venerable Mahā Kassapa dark complexioned or fair complexioned? Is he tall or short? How does he look? Friends, how could that be, that there lives such a great bhikkhu, when the Bhagavā’s passing away has taken place?” Some of them took perfumes and flowers and went out to meet the venerable-bhikkhu while others prepared the roadway he was coming along and stood there awaiting.

Then the Venerable Mahā Kassapa arrived and went to the funeral pyre of scented woods at the Makuṭabandhana Shrine of the Malla princes in Kusināra. Wearing folded robe on one shoulder, with joined palms raised to his forehead, he walked around the funeral pyre keeping it on his right for three rounds. By his special powers, he reflected on the embalmed body of the Buddha and knew for certain which end of the body was the Buddha’s feet. And standing at the end where the Buddha’s feet lay, he entered upon the fourth jhāna which is the prelude or bases of special apperception (power) and, rising from that jhāna, he made the solemn wish: “May the Bhagavā’s feet, marked with a thousand spokes at the wheels, cut open the golden casket together with the multilayered wrappings of cotton-wool and five hundred pairs of pieces of cloth, and come out to lie on my head.”

As soon as his solemn wish was made, the Buddha’s feet cut open the five hundred layers of cloth (and cotton-wool) wrappings like the full moon appearing from the clouds. The Venerable Mahā Kassapa spread out his palms of pinkish red, like the new bloom lotus, and holding the golden hued feet of the Buddha firmly in his hands up to the ankles, placed the pair of feet on his head, thus paying homage in a most touching manner.

Witnessing the miraculous scene, the people raised a thunderous applause and made their offerings of perfumes, flowers and other things and paid their homage at the feet of the Buddha to their hearts content. The five hundred bhikkhus who accompanied the Venerable Mahā Kassapa also wore folded robe on one shoulder and with their joined palms raised to their forehead, walked around the funeral pyre of scented wood keeping it on their right for three rounds, and paid homage at the feet of the Buddha.

After the Venerable Mahā Kassapa, the people and the five hundred bhikkhus had paid homage at the Buddha’s feet as much as they liked, and at the instant the Venerable Mahā Kassapa let go the Buddha’s feet, the lac-coloured feet of the Buddha returned to their former place inside the casket, without any further wishing by the Venerable Mahā Kassapa. As the feet disappeared into the golden casket, not a piece of scented wood was bestirred. As a matter of fact, as when the Buddha’s feet came out of the golden casket and as they re-entered it, nothing was disturbed, i.e. not a strand of cotton-wool, not a fibre of the cloth, not a droplet of oil, not a piece of scented firewood was caused to stir itself. When once the feet were inside the golden casket again, everything was perfectly intact.

But when the Buddha’s feet disappeared from views like the setting of the sun or the moon beyond the western mountain, the people wailed. They presented an even more pitiable sight than they did at the passing away of the Buddha.

After Venerable Mahā Kassapa and his five hundred bhikkhus had paid their last respect, the funeral pyre of scented wood burnt by itself, all at the same time without human effort but by the power of celestial beings [This is called the combustion by the Element of Heat (tejo).]

Of the body of the Buddha that had burnt itself, the outer (thinner) layer of the skin, the inner (thicker) layer of the skin, flesh, sinews and sticky substances did not remain in the form of ash or soot; what remained was only the relics that were formed out of the body. It is just like the case of burning clear butter which leaves no ash or soot. Out of the five hundred pieces of cloth that enwrapped the body of the Buddha, only the innermost one and the outermost one remained intact.