On one occasion the Buddha enumerated for the benefit of his bhikkhus the names of twenty-one eminent lay disciples (upāsakas) who had attained realization of the paths and fruits. Fourth on this list we find the householder Citta of Macchikāsaṇḍa, near Sāvatthī (AN 6:120). On another occasion the Blessed One said to his bhikkhus: “Should a devoted mother wish to encourage her beloved only son in a proper way, she may tell him: ‘Try to become like the householder Citta, my dear, and like the householder Hatthaka of Ālavi.’ These two, Citta and Hatthaka, are models and guiding standards for my lay disciples.
The mother may then continue: ‘But if you should decide to become a monk, my dear, then try to imitate Sāriputta and Mahāmoggallāna.’ These two, Sāriputta and Mahāmoggallāna, are models and guiding standards for my bhikkhus” (SN 17:23). Thus the Buddha stressed that a devoted lay disciple should foster the wish to become like Citta and Hatthaka, while devoted bhikkhus should aspire to equal Sāriputta and Mahāmoggallāna. Here different models are set for laypeople and for monks. A lay follower is not to choose a bhikkhu as his model but a lay disciple; and a bhikkhu should not choose a lay disciple but a bhikkhu. The modes of living of the two types are quite different and an example taken from one’s own background is bound to prove more effective.
A lay disciple aspiring to be like Sāriputta should take the robe; but if he wants to permeate his life with the Dhamma while still living as a householder, he should look up to householders like Citta and Hatthaka as his models. In enumerating his foremost disciples, the Buddha mentioned three persons who excelled in expounding the Dhamma: the bhikkhu Puṇṇa Mantāṇiputta, the bhikkhunī Dhammadinnā, and the householder Citta (AN 1, chap. 14). There is no record of any other lay disciple who was so well gifted in this respect. This Citta, a teacher of the good Dhamma, the model for Buddhist lay disciples, was a wealthy merchant who owned a whole hamlet, Migapathaka, and nearby a large wood, Ambātakavana.
This he presented to the Sangha, building a spacious monastery there, where many bhikkhus often dwelt. His devotion to the Blessed One is explained by the fact that he had been a servant of the Bodhisatta in a former life and had followed him into homelessness (J 488). There are no less than eleven accounts of the life of this devoted upāsaka, from which may be gathered a distinct outline of his personality. Citta particularly appreciated a certain bhikkhu, the Venerable Sudhamma, and always consulted him before proffering an invitation to other bhikkhus.
One day Sāriputta, Moggallāna, Anuruddha, Ānanda, and several other wise and learned elders arrived at Macchikāsaṇḍa in the course of a journey. At once Citta approached them, and Sāriputta granted him a Dhamma talk of such profundity that Citta attained to the second stage of sanctity, that of once-returner (sakadāgāmi). Citta immediately invited the illustrious gathering for the next day’s meal. Afterwards it occurred to him that in this one instance he had forgotten to inform Sudhamma in advance, and he hastened to let him know of the invitation. When the Venerable Sudhamma learned of this, he grew jealous and crossly reprimanded Citta for not having told him beforehand. Although Citta had cordially invited him to join the meal offering, Sudhamma scornfully declined. Citta repeated his civil request twice more, but in vain. So, thinking in his heart that Sudhamma’s obstinacy had no bearing on his deed and the deed’s fruit, he went home and joyfully began preparations for the auspicious event.
The next day, however, the Venerable Sudhamma could not bring himself to stay away. He joined the gathering as if nothing had happened and praised the bounty and refinement of Citta’s hospitality. “But real consummation,” he added sarcastically, “would have been achieved by serving cream cakes to round off the meal.” Citta replied that his friend’s ill-advised behaviour reminded him of a story he had heard. Some people known to him once bred a hybrid from a crow and a hen, but the resulting chick was afflicted with a grotesque defect. Whenever it wanted to crow like a cock, it cawed like a crow; and when it tried to caw like a crow, it crowed like a cock.
By this, Citta intended to say that Sudhamma had not only failed in correct behaviour as a bhikkhu but in proper civility as a layman, too. Refusing an invitation out of jealousy was hardly right for a monk, and criticizing the food was poor manners for a householder. Sudhamma was deeply offended by these words and wanted to leave. Thereupon Citta offered to support him for the rest of his life, but the bhikkhu rejected his offer. Citta then kindly asked him to visit the Buddha and relate what had occurred to him. When Sudhamma left abruptly, Citta said: “Till we meet again.” The Buddha said to Sudhamma: “Foolish man, what you did was unseemly, improper, discourteous, not the way of an ascetic. How could you meanly insult and show disdain for a devoted, faithful lay disciple, a benefactor and supporter of the Sangha?”
And at a meeting of the Sangha it was decided that Sudhamma should call on the householder Citta and ask his forgiveness. Sudhamma accordingly set out, but on reaching Macchikāsaṇḍa he felt so deeply embarrassed that he could not force himself to do what he had come for. So he turned back without having seen Citta. When his fellow bhikkhus asked him whether he had performed his duty, and learned that he had not, they informed the Buddha. The Master then advised another bhikkhu to accompany Sudhamma on his difficult errand, and so it was done. Sudhamma asked Citta for forgiveness and Citta pardoned him.1 Of the ten instructive discourses contained in the Citta Saṃyutta, three deal with questions posed by Citta to bhikkhus, three with queries put to Citta by bhikkhus, and four refer to personal events.
Once Citta invited a group of elder bhikkhus from the monastery he had founded for a meal. Afterwards he requested the senior monk to give an exposition of what the Buddha had said on the variety of elements. The elder was unable to explain, and after he had been requested in vain a second and a third time, the youngest bhikkhu, named Isidatta, asked for permission to reply to Citta’s request. The elder consented, and Isidatta, a pupil of the Venerable Mahākaccāna, lucidly explained the variety of elements on the basis of eighteen elements: the six sense faculties, the six types of objects, and the six elements of consciousness. The bhikkhus then took their leave. On the way back to the monastery the senior bhikkhu commended young Isidatta for his excellent exposition, and said that next time he should not hesitate to speak up in a similar situation. There was no envy in the elder’s heart, but on the contrary he felt sympathetic joy (muditā) over his young companion’s accomplishments and depth of understanding. Isidatta on his part felt no pride, so both complied with the ideals of the monk’s life (SN 41:2).
On another occasion Citta posed the question: “From what do wrong views on the world and the self originate?” He asked for an exposition of what the Buddha had taught on this subject in the great Brahmajāla Sutta. Again the senior bhikkhu was ignorant of the matter and again Isidatta replied. Wrong views, he said, invariably originate from the view of a self (sakkāyadiṭṭhi). Citta then went on to ask from what the view of a self originates, and Isidatta replied that the uninstructed worldling, untrained in the noble Dhamma, takes the five aggregates of personality as being “mine,” “I,” and “my self” Thus he is continually creating the illusion of selfhood out of what are merely transient, empty phenomena: form, feeling, perception, volitional formations, and consciousness. Citta was delighted with the discourse and asked Isidatta from where he came.
“From the township of Avantī,” Isidatta replied. Citta, who did not know his name, then asked whether he knew a certain Isidatta there, with whom he used to correspond, explaining the Dhamma to him and encouraging him to take the robe. As he did not know what had been the outcome, he wished to learn of it. He had never seen Isidatta, and now to his great joy he learned that his former pen-friend had indeed decided upon ordination and was now sitting before him. He asked for the favour of supporting him, but Isidatta, though appreciating the generous offer, declined and took his leave, never to return (SN 41:3). The commentary does not explain Isidatta’s motives for leaving so suddenly. It seems likely that he preferred anonymity, and now that his identity had been disclosed by the conversation with Citta he felt he could no longer reside in that region. He attained to arahantship, and all we hear further of him is a short stanza dealing with the five aggregates (Th 120).
On the third occasion when Citta was the questioner, it was a monk called Kāmabhū who replied. Citta put to him no less than eleven abstract questions concerning the three types of formations (saṅkhārā) and their cessation (SN 41:6). These were the same as the questions which the householder Visākha put to the nun Dhammadinnā (MN 44). The first talk in which Citta is found replying to questions occurred when some senior bhikkhus, after the alms round, were sitting together on the porch of the monastery discussing the problem of whether the fetters (saṃyojana) and the sense objects are the same or not. Some said they were the same, some said they were different. Citta happened upon the scene and joined the gathering.
When invited to comment, he declared that in his view the fetters and the sense objects are different, not only in name but in meaning, too. As in a pair of oxen, the white one is not the fetter of the black and the black one is not the fetter of the white, but both are fettered by a single rope or yoke-strap, so the sense faculties had no power to bind the external objects and the external objects had no power to bind the sense faculties, but they were yoked by craving. The bhikkhus rejoiced at the learned lay disciple’s answer and declared that Citta must be in possession of the eye of wisdom which ranges over the profound Teaching of the Buddha (SN 41:1).
This same simile is used on two other occasions by Sāriputta and Ānanda (SN 35:191, 192). Its exact import was lucidly explained by the Buddha (SN 35:109, 122) when he said that the six sense faculties and their objects are the things fettered, and that craving, or lustful desire (chandarāga), alone is the fetter that binds them. This is an important point to take into consideration in order to avoid a futile fight against the outer sense objects and the inner sense faculties; for it is our internal lust and desire that bind us, not the sense faculties and their objects. The simile aptly assigns black to the six inner domains, since the subject is what is unknown; and white to the outer domains, because the objects are evident. The second talk showing Citta as a teacher starts when the bhikkhu Kāmabhū recites a stanza spoken by the Buddha, a solemn utterance, and asks Citta to elucidate it: The faultless chariot with its one axle And white canopy rolls. See him coming, without blemish, Without ties, the one who has crossed the stream.
Citta first wanted to know whether the utterance was one of the Buddha’s, which Kāmabhū confirmed. Obviously, to Citta only a saying of the Buddhas was worthy of deep reflection. Then he asked for a short time to reflect and finally said: the chariot (ratho) is the bodily form which moves round (vattati); the one axle (ekāro) is mindfulness (sati); the smooth, frictionless holding together of the parts is virtue; the white silken canopy (seta-pacchādo) is emancipation. So the arahant (“him coming,” āyantaṃ), without blemish (anīghaṃ) or ties (abandhanaṃ), has crossed the stream (chinnasotaṃ); he has done away with greed, hatred, and ignorance and is safe from the ocean of craving. Kāmabhū then told Citta that he could well be called happy and blessed, as the eye of wisdom had come to him in explaining that profound saying of the Buddha (SN 41:5).
The third incident relates a conversation in the course of which the bhikkhu Godatta (Th 659–72) challenged Citta to expound on this controversy: Are the immeasurable liberation of mind, the unattached liberation of mind, the void liberation of mind, and the signless liberation of mind the same in meaning and different only in name or are they different both in name and meaning3 Citta replied that they may be considered the same or different, according to the point of view. They are different in meaning and different in name when considered as referring to different types of temporary emancipation, but the same in meaning and different only in name when considered as different aspects of final emancipation.
When different in both meaning and name, the immeasurable liberation is the four divine abodes (brahmavihāra), the unattached liberation is the third formless attainment, the void liberation is the insight contemplation of nonself, and the signless liberation is the meditative experience of Nibbāna. When identical in meaning and different only in name, all four signify the arahant’s unshakable liberation from greed, hatred, and delusion (SN 41:7). Elsewhere, more personal events are also related. One time, after some bhikkhus had taken their alms at his house, Citta accompanied them back to the monastery. It was very hot and they were perspiring freely. The youngest of the bhikkhus, Mahaka, remarked to the senior one that wind or rain would certainly be welcome. The observation sounds banal and not worth mentioning, but its import lies in the fact that Mahaka could exercise psychic powers and was asking permission to do so.
When he actually did procure rain to refresh his companions, Citta was deeply impressed, particularly since Mahaka was still very young. At the monastery, therefore, he asked the bhikkhu to display his powers once more. Perhaps it was the first time Citta had seen a paranormal feat of this kind, and he felt a natural curiosity about it. Mahaka complied. A coat and a bundle of hay were placed on the porch, after which Mahaka went inside and closed the door. Creating a beam of tremendous heat he directed it through the keyhole and turned the bundle of hay to ashes without harming the coat. Filled with enthusiasm, Citta offered to support Mahaka for life. Like Isidatta, however, Mahaka preferred to leave the place and never returned (SN 41:4). Bhikkhus are forbidden to impress laypeople by the exhibition of paranormal powers (Vin II 112).
Mahaka was young, and these powers were still new and titillating to him, so he could not resist Citta’s request; but he recollected himself immediately after and did the right thing by leaving for good. Citta’s town was visited not only by bhikkhus but also by ascetics of other persuasions. One of these was the leader of the Jains, Nigaṇṭha Nātaputta. Citta called upon him as well, for he did not took down on those of other sects and was courageous enough to take up the challenge of dispute (SN 41:8).
Nātaputta wanted to know whether Citta believed the Buddha’s statement that there is a state of concentration (samādhi) void of thought and examination (vitakkavicāra). Citta answered that he did not believe there is such a thing, and Nātaputta, eager to enlist the renowned Citta in support of his views, was quite pleased with the reply. “Well said!” he exclaimed, and went on to expound his own belief that stilling the flow of thought would be as difficult as stopping the Ganges with one’s bare hands: “Impossible it is to make thought and examination cease,” he declared. Nātaputta, however, had failed to catch Citta’s exact meaning. Citta now countered with a query: “What do you think is more excellent, venerable sir, belief or knowledge?” “Knowledge,” Nātaputta answered.
Thereupon Citta explained that he himself had experienced all the jhānas, of which the last three are actually without thought and examination. Hence for him it was no longer a matter of belief but of knowledge from direct experience that the Buddha’s statement was correct. Thereupon, Nātaputta blamed him severely for the form of his first reply. Citta protested that first he had been praised for being a wise man, and now he was called a fool. Only one of the two opinions could be true, so what did Nātaputta really think of him? But Citta was not to receive an answer, for Nātaputta preferred to remain silent. This incident shows how even famous philosophers may fall into inconsistencies, especially when their pride is hurt, and Nātaputta claimed to be more than a mere philosopher. He had always failed to attain the higher jhānas, so he conveniently concluded that they are a myth.
Now, when an entirely trustworthy man declared that he had actually attained to these jhānas, the baselessness of his own theory was proved, along with the inferiority of his own status. Nātaputta’s chagrin must have been increased by the fact that whereas he himself had been for so long a practitioner of extreme asceticism, Citta was still living the household life. It is scarcely to be wondered at that Nātaputta withdrew in confusion. The third personal encounter related is between Citta and the naked ascetic Kassapa (SN 41:9). This ascetic was an old friend of Citta’s family and so, when he visited his old home town for the first time after many years, he called on Citta. Citta asked him how long he had been leading the ascetic life. “Thirty years,” he was told.
Citta next inquired whether he had attained to superhuman states of bliss or supernormal insight. Kassapa answered, “No, I have just been going about naked, shaving my head, and dusting my seat.” That was his life. Now it was Kassapa’s turn to ask questions. How long had Citta been a lay follower of the Buddha? “Thirty years,” Citta replied. Had he attained to superhuman states? “Well,” Citta said, “I have certainly experienced the four jhānas, and should I die before the Blessed One, he would say of me that no fetter bound me any more to the sensesphere world.” This, as Kassapa knew very well, meant that Citta was a nonreturner (anāgāmi), one who had attained to the third of the four stages of awakening. The ascetic, worn by painful austerities, was stunned by the idea that a layman could reach such a high attainment.
Justly considering that since this was possible for a layman in the Buddha’s Dispensation, even more could be gained by a bhikkhu, he asked Citta to help him in taking the robe. He was duly admitted to the Sangha, and he attained arahantship shortly thereafter. Three other friends of Citta also became bhikkhus after discussions of that kind. They were Sudhamma, Godatta, and Isidatta, who, as related before, had been in correspondence with Citta. All three of them attained to ultimate emancipation, leaving Citta, the householder, behind. The last account we have of Citta relates the circumstances of his death (SN 41:10). When he fell ill devas appeared to him and urged him to set his heart upon becoming a world monarch in his next life.
No, Citta answered; he was aiming at something higher, more noble and peaceful than that. He was seeking the Unconditioned—Nibbāna. In recommending Citta to be a world monarch the devas must have been unaware of his attainment, which made it impossible for him to return to the human realm. He had already gone beyond the lure of sensual desire, which is the fetter binding beings to the human world. His relatives, unable to see the devas, imagined that Citta was in delirium. He reassured them, explaining that he was conversing with invisible beings. Then, at their devout request, he gave them his last advice and admonition. They were to repose trust in the Buddha and his Dhamma always, and they were to remain unswervingly generous toward the holy Sangha. Thus this noble lay follower of the Buddha passed on to his successors the pattern of conduct which he himself had followed throughout his life with such brilliant success, one that had brought him to liberation from the miseries of the sensuous realm and within sight of the Deathless, the final end of suffering.
THE BHIKKHU CITTA
This Citta was the son of an elephant trainer. When he was still a youth he met an elderly bhikkhu who was returning from his alms round with a particularly tasty item of food in his bowl. The bhikkhu had no desire for it, so he gave it to the young lad. Citta was greatly pleased, and he joined the Sangha thinking that as a bhikkhu he would be fed like that every day without having to work for a living. With such a motivation, however, no ascetic life is possible, and shortly afterwards he discarded the robe and returned to lay life. All the same, the spirit of the holy Sangha had left a deep and indelible impression on his mind. Soon he felt dissatisfaction with the life of a householder and asked for ordination once more. Having obtained it, after a time he deserted the Sangha again. This happened a third, fourth, and fifth time, after which he married.
One night sometime after his marriage he was unable to fall asleep. While he was looking at his pregnant wife, who was sound asleep, the wretchedness of sensual pleasures was driven home to him so forcefully that he seized a yellow robe and hastened to the monastery at once. On his hurried way through the silent night all the good seeds planted during his previous monkhood blossomed and then and there he attained to stream-entry. At the monastery, however, his former fellow monks had just agreed among themselves to refuse a possible sixth request for ordination from Citta. They felt that they had been patient enough with him and considered him a disgrace to the Sangha, totally unfit for the holy life. Even while they were so deliberating, they saw Citta himself approaching. His features were aglow with a new bliss, and his manner was so calm and mild that they found it impossible to refuse him another ordination.
This time he quickly succeeded in the four jhānas and signless unification of mind. This filled him with joy, and he felt a great urge to talk about his success. On one occasion some arahants were sitting together in conversation and Citta interrupted them again and again. The senior bhikkhu of the gathering, the Venerable Mahākoṭṭhita, advised him to wait until the senior monks had finished what they had to say. Thereupon Citta’s friends said that he ought not to be reprimanded, because he was wise and capable of explaining the Dhamma from his own experience. Mahākoṭṭhita answered that he could see Citta’s heart.
Then he went on to explain, by similes, that there are states of mind that may be excellent as long as they last but are still unable to prevent a bhikkhu from giving up the monkhood again. He illustrated this point with a number of similes. A cow securely tied up in the byre seems peaceable enough, but turned loose it quickly tramples down the green crops. Likewise a bhikkhu may be humble and well behaved in the presence of the Master or holy monks, but left on his own he tends to relapse and leave the Sangha. Again, a person may be in possession of the four jhānas and signless unification of mind, and as long as these persist he is safe; but as soon as the bliss wanes he goes among people, talkative and unrestrained, bursting with pride to announce his achievement.
Then his heart becomes filled with greed and he gives up the monks training. He may feel secure in the jhānas, but it is precisely this which leads to his ruin. While a king and army, with drums and chariots, are camping in the woods, nobody can hear the crickets chirping and everybody might think they had been silenced. But after the troops have moved on the crickets can easily be heard again, although one might have been quite sure there were none (AN 6:60). Later on, Citta actually did leave the Sangha for a sixth time to return to family life. His bhikkhu friends then asked the Venerable Mahākoṭṭhita whether he had himself foreseen that Citta would act thus, or whether devas had told him. He replied that it was both. In astonishment those friends went to the Buddha and related the matter to him. The Blessed One dispelled their apprehensions by telling them that Citta would soon return.
One day Citta went to see the Buddha, accompanied by Poṭṭhapāda, a wandering ascetic of another sect. Poṭṭhapāda posed some deep questions regarding the different modes of arising in the three worlds. Citta followed up with further questions as to the differentiation between these forms of becoming, since, having experienced the jhānas, he was familiar with some of them. The Blessed One’s answers satisfied him fully and he requested admission to the Sangha for the seventh time, which turned out to be the last. The Buddha gave his consent, and in a short time Citta too became one of the arahants (DN 9).
In the commentary to the above sutta we are told just why it was that the bhikkhu Citta, in his last life, had to defect from the Sangha so many times before attaining arahantship. It appears that a long, long time ago, when the Buddha Kassapa was teaching the Dhamma, there were two friends who joined the Sangha. One of them became dissatisfied with the hardships of a bhikkhu’s life and contemplated returning to his family. His friend encouraged him to make this decision, because in his heart he longed to be able to feel himself superior. This ugly motive had its result much later during the lifetime of the Buddha Gotama. It subjected this false friend, now the bhikkhu Citta, no less than six times to the humiliation of leaving the Sangha and having to petition for readmission.
This shows that there are some kammas so strong that their results cannot be resisted; they can only be lived through with patience and understanding. But since we do not know whether or not certain influences in our lives are the results of such kamma, or, if they are, how close they may be to exhaustion, it behoves us to strive against them. Apart from everything else, such striving has its own value. While it may appear in this life to be futile, ultimately it will bear fruit for our good. The immutable law of cause and effect ensures that no effort is wasted. Here, as elsewhere, the Dhamma urges us to set our face against every form of fatalism—that most enervating and paralysing view of life—even in its most subtle guises. It encourages us to rise from our failures undaunted and ever ready to try again. Defeats there may be—bitter and heartbreaking setbacks in the battle against craving and ignorance—but the true follower of the Buddha is one who will never admit any defeat as final. Like an old and tried warrior, we must be prepared to lose every battle except the last, confident that by perseverance the final victory will be ours.
FATHER AND MOTHER NAKULA
The town called Suṃsumāragiri (Crocodile Hill) was located in the country of the Bhaggas in the Ganges Valley, and it was here that the Blessed One spent one of the forty-five rainy seasons of his ministry (MN 15). Once, when the Buddha was walking through the streets of the town, a citizen prostrated himself at his feet and cried: “My dear son, why have you never called on us? Now please honour our home, so that your aged mother may lay her eyes on you, too!” The man was not out of his mind. The fact is that in former births he and his wife had been the Bodhisatta’s parents not once but five hundred times, and many more times they had been his uncle, aunt, and grandparents. A faint memory of this had lingered on, and at the sight of the Blessed One full recollection had broken forth and overpowered the old man. Incidents of this kind still sometimes happen in Asian countries even today.
This old man was the householder Nakulapitā (Father Nakula); his wife was known as Nakulamātā (Mother Nakula). They are mentioned together by the Buddha as being among the foremost of his lay disciples, particularly for their unfaltering faithfulness to each other. The brief account of them in the Pāli Canon depicts a conjugal love of divine stature, accompanied by absolute trust based upon their common faith in the Blessed One. When the Buddha received an invitation to their home, Father Nakula gave him an account of their marriage. Although he had been married very young, he said, he had not once broken faith with his wife throughout the years, not even in thought, let alone in deed. And Mother Nakula made the same declaration on her part. Neither husband nor wife had ever deviated for a moment from their mutual fidelity.
In their devotion, both of them expressed a longing to be together again in their future lives, and they asked the Master what they could do to ensure that they got their wish (AN 4:55). The Buddha did not reject the question or criticize their aspiration. He replied: “Should a husband and wife wish to enjoy each other’s company in this life and afterward to meet again in the next, they should cultivate the same faith, the same virtue, the same generosity, and the same wisdom. Then they will meet again in their next lives.”
And the Buddha added these stanzas: When both are faithful and bountiful, Self-restrained, of righteous living, They come together as husband and wife Full of love for each other. Many blessings come their way, They dwell together in happiness, Their enemies are left dejected, When both are equal in virtue.
Having lived by Dhamma in this world, The same in virtue and observance, They rejoice after death in the deva-world, Enjoying an abundance of pleasure.
How a man of lofty aspirations may live with a woman his peer, guarded by virtue, is explained by the Blessed One elsewhere. There he says that not only do both consorts abide by the Five Precepts, but over and above this they are virtuous and noble-minded; when asked for help they never refuse, and they never despise or insult ascetics and brahmins (AN 4:54). In the light of these words it can easily be seen how much is expected of a couple like that: not religious piety only, but also a heart staunch enough to be detached from the petty events of everyday life and everything that is low and base. It is frequently said of the white-clad lay follower that he does not refuse requests and easily forgoes his own wishes or pleasures. This shows a detachment from persons and things, a capacity for letting go and relinquishment.
From this comes inner freedom, the only sound basis for the cultivation of wisdom. Virtue in action, renunciation in the heart, wisdom in the mind—these factors make for harmonious and gentle life together. Knowledge concerning rebirth and of ways to obtain a favourable one was common in India at that time. In the case of the couple Nakula, since they actually remembered some of their previous lives, it was not necessary to enlarge on the subject. The Blessed One’s concise reply was all they needed. The prerequisites for harmonious married life are explained by the Buddha in more detail in the Sigālovāda Sutta (DN 31).
There we read that the husband—who is responsible for taking the initiative—should relate to his wife in five ways: he should treat her with respect; he should not disdain her; he should be faithful to her; he should allow her authority in the household; and he should provide her with all necessities and adornments according to his means. If he conducts himself thus, his wife will take pride in looking after his needs; the household will run smoothly; she will treat callers and servants politely; she will be faithful; she will protect his property and carry out her tasks skilfully and dutifully. The Nakulas were not solely concerned with a favourable rebirth: they also took interest in the lawfulness governing human life and in the deeper problems of existence. Once Father Nakula asked the Blessed One why it is that some people attain to emancipation and others do not. The answer was: “Whosoever clings to the objects perceived by the senses cannot gain liberation. Whoever stops clinging will be liberated” (SN 35:131).
This is a reply which, in its concentrated terseness, can be fully comprehend only by one well versed in the Dhamma, but Nakula grasped its implications at once. On another occasion Father Nakula went to pay homage to the Buddha. He was now aged and infirm, he said, and only on rare occasions could he see the Blessed One. Would the Buddha out of compassion give him a word of spiritual guidance to hold and treasure?
The Buddha replied: “The body is subject to sickness and decay, a burden even in the best circumstances. Hence one should train oneself thus: ‘Though my bodily frame is ill, my mind shall not be ill.”’ Soon afterwards, Nakula met the Venerable Sāriputta, who addressed him with the words, “Your deportment is calm, householder, and your features serene. Did you hear a Dhamma discourse from the Master today?” “So it is,” Nakula answered. “The Blessed One has this very day comforted me with his ambrosial words.” Upon hearing this, Sāriputta gave a full explanation of the Buddha’s concise words, expounding on the way to overcome physical sickness by not identifying with the five aggregates. When the time comes—as it inevitably does—that the evanescence of things becomes evident, the well-trained person does not despair but coolly looks on with equanimity. His body may wither, but his heart remains sound (SN 22:1).
It was not only Father Nakula who strove for wisdom to overcome death. His wife resembled him in this respect, as can be seen by another report (AN 6:16). When her husband fell dangerously ill, Mother Nakula consoled him thus: Do not harbour distress at the thought of my being left behind. To die like that is agonizing, so our Master has advised against it. For six very good reasons you need not be concerned about me: I am skilled at spinning, and so shall be able to support the children; after having lived the home life chastely with you for sixteen years I shall never consider taking another husband; I shall never cease seeing the Master and his bhikkhus, but rather visit them even more frequently than before; I am firmly established in virtue and have attained to peace of mind; and lastly, I have found firm footing in the Dhamma and am bound for final deliverance.
Encouraged by these words, Father Nakula recovered from his illness. As soon as he was able to walk he went to the Buddha and recounted his wife’s words. The Lord thereupon confirmed that to have such a wife was indeed a blessing. He said: “You are truly blessed, householder, in having Mother Nakula as a mentor and adviser who is solicitous and concerned for your welfare. Mother Nakula is indeed one of the white-clad female devotees who are perfect in virtue, stilled of mind, and firmly established in the Dhamma.” Here a solution is given for reconciling the seemingly opposite tendencies of life: the deep affection between husband and wife on the one hand, and the striving for deliverance on the other.
Looking sympathetically at this story of the Nakula couple, one may come to think that a life of renunciation may not be necessary if a married life is led in such an exemplary way, or that one can even combine attachment and detachment. But if one looks more closely one will see that it is far from easy to follow faithfully the life led by that noble couple. It is not enough that there is concern and solicitude for one another. The conditions for a married life in chaste companionship must not be overlooked. The spouses who in their youth had led a married life of sensual fulfilment did not abstain from physical contact only in old age, when the senses were quieted, but they voluntarily lived a celibate life much earlier. In the case of the Nakula couple, they had lived without physical connection for sixteen years, as their words to the Master testify. Hence the individual wishing to take the first steps on the road to emancipation should make a personal decision: to remain in the home environment and try to outgrow its sensual temptations, or to overcome worldliness as a member of the Sangha in the congenial company of exemplary fellow celibates. As long as the Enlightened One himself, the incomparable guide of those to be trained, was at the head of the Order, the decision was not so difficult. But even today those who do not feel fitted for life in a monastic community may also lack the strength of character to renounce sexual relations in a married life devoted to progress on the path. Both ways of life will demand acts of renunciation.
References: 1. The Great Disciples of The Buddha by Nyanaponika Thera and Hellmuth Hecker 2. https://suttacentral.net/