Maria Heim - Voice of The Buddha. Buddhaghosa On The Immeasurable Words (2018, Oxford University Press)
Maria Heim - Voice of The Buddha. Buddhaghosa On The Immeasurable Words (2018, Oxford University Press)
the Buddha
Voice of
the Buddha
Buddhaghosa on
the Immeasurable Words
MARIA HEIM
1
1
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For Soren
Contents
Acknowledgments ix
Abbreviations for Pali Texts xi
Introduction 1
Conclusion 218
I am grateful to many people who have helped in large and small ways
with this project. In many respects the book is the outcome of reading practices
I began to learn with Charles Hallisey while studying Pali commentary over
twenty years ago at Harvard. I remain grateful to Charlie for his conversation
and mentorship ever since, and for reading and commenting on an early version
of the manuscript. The book is better also for his inviting me to join, via Skype,
his “Readings in Pali Commentary” class at Harvard Divinity School for the aca-
demic year 2016–2017; thanks to him and the students of that course for sharing
this experience with me.
I am also very grateful to Chakravarthi Ram-Prasad for commenting metic-
ulously on the entire manuscript, and for the many conversations over the years
we’ve had about Buddhaghosa and Indian thought more broadly. I appreciate
also his student Gilda Darlas for many wonderful exchanges about Buddhaghosa
and her ideas for his practical applications.
I am blessed with brilliant and supportive colleagues at the Five Colleges who
have made this community such a stimulating intellectual home. I am particu-
larly indebted to Andy Rotman for coordinating our faculty seminar, and to the
participants of the discussion of the Abhidhamma chapter in late 2016: Andy
Rotman, Jay Garfield, Steve Heim, Sandy Huntington, Reiko Ohnuma, William
Edelglass, and Andrew Olendzki. Jay Garfield has been particularly supportive
and helpful in reading drafts of my work.
Other portions of this project have benefited from being presented at confer-
ences and workshops. I particularly appreciate the participants of my 2016 work-
shop at Amherst College on Buddhaghosa: Rupert Gethin, Charles Hallisey,
Chakravarthi Ram-Prasad, Janet Gyatso, Alastair Gornall, Aleix Ruiz-Falqués,
Tari Shulman, and Richard Nance. Many thanks to the Hamilton Fund and the
Religion Department for supporting the workshop, and to Lisa Ballou for her
able administrative assistance. I am grateful also to Jack Petranker for inviting me
to two workshops at the Mangala Research Center for Buddhist Languages, one
x Acknowledgments
A Aṅguttaranikāya
As Atthasālinī (Dhammasaṅgaṇī-aṭṭhakathā)
D Dīghanikāya
Dhp Dhammapada
Dhp-a Dhammapada-aṭṭhakathā
Dhs Dhammasaṅgaṇī
Ja Jātaka-aṭṭhakathā
Khp Khuddakapāṭha
Kv Kathāvatthu
Kv-a Kathāvatthu-aṭṭhakathā
Mil Milindapañha
Mp Manorathapūraṇi (Aṅguttaranikāya-aṭṭhakathā)
Netti Nettippakaraṇa
Paṭis Paṭisambhidāmagga
Paṭis-a Paṭisambhidāmagga-aṭṭhakathā
Pj I Paramatthajotikā I (Khuddakapāṭha-aṭṭhakathā)
Ps Papañcasūdanī (Majjhimanikāya-aṭṭhakathā)
Pv-a Paramatthadīpanī (Petavatthu-aṭṭhakathā)
S Saṃyuttanikāya
Sp Samantapāsādikā (Vinaya-aṭṭhakathā)
Spk Sāratthappakāsinī (Saṃyuttanikāya-aṭṭhakathā)
Sv Sumaṅgalavilāsinī (Dīghanikāya-aṭṭhakathā)
Vibh Vibhaṅga
Vibh-a Sammohavinodanī (Vibhaṅga-aṭṭhakathā)
Vism Visuddhimagga
Vism-mhṭ Visuddhimagga-mahāṭīkā
Introduction
1. This summary is taken from Bhikkhu Ñāṇamoli’s translation of the passages on Buddhaghosa
in the Mahāvaṃsa, The Path of Purification, xxxiv–xxxv. See also Geiger, trans., Cūlavaṃsa,
ch. 37, vv. 215–47, and Gray’s translation of the thirteenth-century legend of Buddhaghosa
called Buddhaghosuppatti; Finot, “The Legend of Buddhaghosa”; Law, Buddhaghosa;
Buddhadatta, “Who Was Buddhaghosa?” 142–57. I offer an extensive annotated bibliography
on Buddhaghosa in the Oxford Bibliographies (Heim, “Visuddhimagga/Buddhaghosa”).
2 In t rodu ct ion
2. Ñāṇamoli, The Path of Purification, xxxv, a translation of the Mahavāṃsa, ch. 37, vv. 215–47.
Introduction 3
found in Buddhist texts not totality, but infinity. That is, for Buddhaghosa, any
particular expression in the Buddhist canon cannot be exhaustively described,
and the interpretive task is to show the “immeasurability” of the Buddha’s words
and to shape the ideal reader’s response to it. Second and relatedly, Buddhaghosa’s
interpretative assumptions often treat the Buddha’s teachings not as declarative
or discursive utterances so much as practices. The Buddha’s words were uttered
not so much to give final propositional accounts of the way things are, but to in-
itiate a series of practices that are themselves the very work of insight and under-
standing that enact the tradition’s therapeutic and soteriological aims.
8. Buddhaghosa was an editor and translator of many of the aṭṭhakathā; the extent to which his
contributions to them were his own, or even which of the commentaries attributed to him are
his, is unclear. I discuss this issue later.
9. Dhammapāla is usually dated to the sixth century and describes himself as living in south
India, but there is some question, given the large body of works ascribed to him, of whether
there were two Dhammapālas, one who wrote aṭṭhakathās (on most of the books of the
Khuddaka-nikāya) in the sixth century, and the other who wrote ṭīkās (on the Visuddhimagga
and on the commentaries on the Dīgha, Majjhima, Saṃyutta, Jātaka, Budddhavaṃsa, and
Nettippakaraṇa) no later than the tenth century (see Warder, “Some Problems of the Later
Pali Literature,” 198–202); Norman, following the nineteenth-century Gandhavaṃsa, suggests
the Dhammapāla who wrote the Khuddaka aṭṭhakathās was also responsible for the ṭīkā on
the Visuddhimagga (Pāli Literature, 133–34, 148–49). De Silva argues that the author of the
ṭīkās and the aṭṭhakathās was likely the same Dhammapāla (De Silva, “Introduction” to her
edition of Dīghanikāya-aṭṭhakathā-tīkā Līnatthavaṇṇanā). See also Cousins, “Dhammapāla
and the Tīkā Literature,” 159–65. There is also a sub-subcommentary (anuṭīkā) on the entire
Abhidhamma ascribed to a Dhammapāla.
10. For a translation of parts of this first part of Sv, see Bodhi, The All-Embracing Net of
Views: The Brahmajāla and Its Commentaries; for a translation of As, see Pe Maung Tin,
trans., The Expositor; for the “external introduction” of Sp, see Jayawickrama, The Inception of
the Discipline and the Vinaya Nidāna (the rest of the Pali Vinaya commentary has not been
translated, but there is an English translation from a Chinese version of the Samantapāsādikā
in Bapat and Hirakawa, trans., Shan-Chien-P’i-P’o-Sha). Some of this material is also present in
the Paramatthajotikā I as well (see Ñāṇamoli, Minor Readings and Illustrator, for a translation
and discussion of this text and its exegetical reflections).
6 In t rodu ct ion
material, and these introductions share large portions of text with one another,
with some changes of emphasis according to the distinctive qualities of each of
the three branches of Buddhist scriptural knowledge they comment on; together
they constitute the conceptual framework for the entire body of knowledge on
which the commentaries provide exegesis. In these sections Buddhaghosa speaks
to how texts, “genres” (in the sense of piṭaka), and Buddhist knowledge as a
whole, are to be construed. He describes and theorizes genre, registers of dis-
course, “readerly” response, the nature of scripture and its transmission, and how
various types of Buddhist knowledge and pedagogy work.
The theories of Buddhist texts that Buddhaghosa puts forward in his nidānas
are programmatic for his exegetical methods, and he remains faithful to them in
commenting on particular texts and in the Visuddhimagga. The disciplinary phil-
ological tasks they describe become the main hermeneutical lens of his project.
Specifically, he took each genre of scripture (piṭaka) to be a type of “method”
(naya), and so his commentaries on particular scriptural texts, whether sutta,
Abhidhamma list, or vinaya rule, explore in a dynamic fashion the methods of
thought they make possible. The Buddha’s words were preserved in three piṭakas
(we can call them “genres” in Ricoeur’s sense of “generative discourses,” as I dis-
cuss in chapter 2), that are seen by Buddhaghosa as distinctive modes of thought
or methods that require training necessary for receiving the Buddha’s “well-
spoken words.” Each piṭaka is not only a collection of teachings organizing the
discourses that the Buddha taught (Suttanta), the elaboration of the monastic
rules (Vinaya), and the higher, expanded Dhamma (Abhidhamma), but each is
also a method (naya) and area of expertise (pariyatti).11
These methods require different skills to interpret. Suttanta knowledge is dia-
logical and contextual, often given in a conventional and accessible idiom and to
people according to their various and particular inclinations.12 As we come to see,
a sutta is always embedded in a narrative context that Buddhaghosa deemed es-
sential for interpreting its doctrinal teachings. Buddhaghosa draws a distinction
11. As 11: “Which is the ocean of method? The Buddha’s words [that are] the three piṭakas”
(Katamo nayasāgaro? Tepiṭakaṃ buddhavacanaṃ). As 19; Sv i.18; Sp i.20: “People learned
about the meaning of ‘piṭaka’ refer to piṭaka in the sense of an area of expertise and basket”
(Piṭakaṃ piṭakatthavidū pariyattibbhājanatthato āhu). All abbreviations are standard for the
Pali Text Society and can be found on the Abbreviations page. All translations are my own
unless otherwise noted, and are from the editions of the Chaṭṭha Saṅgāyana.
12. As 21; Sv i.19; Sp i.21: “The Suttanta Piṭaka is a colloquial teaching because of being taught by
the Bhagavan who is skilled in the colloquial,[and] because it has a preponderance of the col-
loquial” (suttantapiṭakaṃ vohārakusalena bhagavatā vohārabāhullato desitattā vohāradesanā);
and it is given “according to beings’ various inclinations, dispositions, behaviors, and intentions”
(anekajjhāsayānusayacariyādhimuttikā sattā yathānulomaṃ).
Introduction 7
13. Buddhaghosa contrasts the colloquial teaching of the Suttanta, with the “furthest sense”
teaching of the Abhidhamma: “the Abhidhamma Piṭaka is a furthest-sense teaching because
of being taught by the Bhagavan who is skilled in furthest-sense [language] and because it has
a preponderance of the furthest sense” (abhidhammapiṭakaṃ paramatthakusalena bhagavatā
paramatthabāhullato desitattā paramatthadesanā; As 21; Sv i.19; Sp i.21). We discuss this dis-
tinction in detail in chapter 2.
14. As 21; Sv i.19; Sp i.21: Vinaya is a “teaching according to monastic offence”
(yathāparādhasāsanaṃ) and a “discourse on various kinds of restraints” (saṃvarāsaṃvarakathā).
8 In t rodu ct ion
The Tathāgata has immeasurable teachings of the Dhamma about this, with
immeasurable words and immeasurable phrasings.15
Buddhaghosa is packing a great deal into this interpretation. The canonical claim
that the teaching of the Dhamma, in its words and phrasings, is immeasurable,
indicates that the actual words and letters—the ways of putting the Dhamma—
are immeasurable: there are many ways to describe problematic practices or views.
Additionally, there are many ways an audience can receive such a declaration and
apply it (presumably as many receptions of a teaching as there are audiences).
Additionally, the modes of teaching are immeasurable: the Buddha taught in
different registers, styles, and pedagogical methods (which we will begin to ex-
plore throughout this book). And finally, since the Tathāgata is himself “unlim-
ited,” what he taught is unlimited or unexhausted. And Buddhaghosa thinks
this interpretation is to work as a general claim, to be deployed in all cases: the
Buddha’s words are immeasurable in how they may be worded and phrased, how
they may be received, the modes in which they may be taught, and because they
issue from an omniscient ken.
The Dhamma is well-spoken by the Bhagavan, visible here and now, timeless,
inviting one to come and see, leading forward, and to be experienced by the
wise for themselves.17
18. Vism 213 [VII.69–86]; cf. Sp i.126–27. Sv ii.246 and Mp i.244 refer the reader to the
Visuddhimagga for the commentary. Readers will always benefit from looking at Ñāṇamoli’s
masterful translation of the Visuddhimagga (this passage is found on pages 209–14), but I give
my translations unless otherwise noted.
19. Vism 213 [VII.69]: So dhammaṃ deseti ādikalyāṇaṃ majjhekalyāṇaṃ pariyosānakalyāṇaṃ
sātthaṃ sabyañjanaṃ; kevalaparipuṇṇaṃ parisuddhaṃ brahmacariyaṃ pakāseti (M i.179; D
i.63). The “religious life” (brahmacariya) is glossed as giving, doing service, practicing the five
moral precepts, practicing the four immeasurables (loving-kindness, etc.), abstaining from
sex, being satisfied with one’s own spouse, having vigor, taking the Uposatha observances, and
following the Ariya path and the Dispensation (Sv i.177). Note that Buddhaghosa sometimes
sees kevalaparipuṇṇa and parisuddha as modifying dhamma, rather than brahmacariya (as he
does in Sv i.177 and Ps ii.203, but not Vism 214 [VII.70]), but the suttas themselves go on to
describe brahmacariya in these terms, suggesting that these adjectives stand in apposition to
brahmacariya.
20. The hermeneutical guide, the Nettippakaraṇa, takes this verse as an interpretative practice
(Netti 5, 9). It is interesting that similar claims about texts can be found outside of Buddhist
texts, as for example, the second-century grammarian Patañjali’s statement that śāstras can have
“auspicious beginnings, middles, and ends” (maṅgalādīni maṅgalamadhyāni maṅgalāntāni hi
śāstrāṇi). As in the Pali tradition, this claim came to be used as an interpretative method (cited
in Minkowski, “Why Should We Read the Maṅgala Verses?,” 22).
21. Kalyāṇaṃ bhaddakaṃ anavajjameva katvā deseti (Sv i.175).
Introduction 11
count as a unit of text to be analyzed in each part? It depends on the text in front
of one. Buddhaghosa says that every verse (gāthā) is to be taken as beautiful in its
beginning words, its middle words, and its ending words, and every sutta can be
found to be beautiful in its beginning by its introduction (nidāna), in the end by
its conclusion, and in the middle by the rest of its content:
For when the Bhagavan teaches even a single verse it is beautiful in the be-
ginning with its first line of the Dhamma because of being entirely good, it
is beautiful in the middle with its second and third lines, and it is beautiful
in the end with its conclusion. A sutta with a single sequence of meaning is
beautiful in the beginning because of its introduction, beautiful in the end
because of its conclusion, and beautiful in the middle because of the rest.22
And the entire Dispensation (sāsana) is a unit that can be analyzed for its beauty
and goodness in three parts: “the Dhamma of the entire Dispensation is beau-
tiful in the beginning because of the morality that has become one’s own well-
being, beautiful in the middle because of calming and insight meditation as path
and fruit, and beautiful in the end because of nibbāna.”23 This device allows for
attention to parts and wholes, as well as conceiving of various types of wholes.
Further, Buddhaghosa puts this technique into practice in the early pages of
his own Visuddhimagga, where he explains its structure.24 In this way the three
sections that structure the Visuddhimagga are in fact the exegetical expansion and
enactment of this important feature of the Buddha’s speech.
He goes on. Structuring the Dhamma into sīla, samādhi, and paññā is not the
only way to show that the Dispensation is beautiful in the beginning, middle, and
end: the Dhamma is also said to be “beautiful in the beginning because of the thor-
ough Awakening of the Buddha, beautiful in the middle because the Dhamma is a
thorough teaching, and beautiful in the end because of the thorough attainment
of the Community.”25 This maps the triple gem, the Buddha, Dhamma, and
Saṅgha, on to the three places of beauty. Or, if you prefer, it may be analyzed in
terms of the reception of the words for those who hear and practice them:
It is beautiful in the beginning since one hearing it brings about only what
is beautiful just by listening, due to its eliminating the hindrances; it is
beautiful in the middle since one practicing it brings about what is beau-
tiful just by practicing it, due to its bringing about the happiness of calm
and insight meditation; and likewise it is beautiful in the end since one
obtaining it brings about what is beautiful just by the fruit of practice,
due to its bringing about the state similar [to that of the buddhas] when
completed.26
yields a reading of the Buddha saying something ugly cannot have issued from
the Buddha’s words.
28. Vism 215 (VII.76): ettha pana ariyamaggo tāva attano santāne rāgādīnaṃ abhāvaṃ
karontena ariyapuggalena sāmaṃ daṭṭhabboti sandiṭṭhiko.
29. Vism 216 VII.80: Attano phaladānaṃ sandhāya nāssa kāloti akālo.
30. Vism 216 (VII.78): Atha vā diṭṭhanti dassanaṃ vuccati. Diṭṭhameva sandiṭṭhaṃ, dassananti
attho . . . Lokuttaradhammo hi bhāvanābhisamayavasena sacchikiriyābhisamayavasena ca
dissamānoyeva vaṭṭabhayaṃ nivatteti.
14 In t rodu ct ion
31. M.i.171, ii.93: in this sutta, Buddha claims to be a “knower of all” (sabbavidūham asmi) and
hesitates to teach since his knowledge may not find a recipient who can understand it; in other
places he disavows omniscience. We take up the development of claims about the Buddha’s
omniscience in chapter 1.
Introduction 15
32. There are four oceans: “the ocean of saṃsāra, the ocean of water, the ocean of methods, and
the ocean of knowledge (saṃsārasāgaro, jalasāgaro, nayasāgaro, ñāṇasāgaroti, As 10), where the
ocean of methods is “the tipiṭaka that is the Buddha’s words” (Katamo nayasāgaro? Tepiṭakaṃ
buddhavacanaṃ, As 11). See chapter 1 and Appendix C.
16 In t rodu ct ion
enormity is to be felt particularly on the side of the one beholding these two
oceans who will find them even more “incalculable and immeasurable”33 than the
great briny sea itself.
Such observations about textual infinity are hardly unique to Buddhaghosa.
Other interpreters have seen how the written text may be read and reread in an
infinite number of ways as it encounters ever new readers and opens up new lines
of thought for them. As Paul Ricoeur sees it, a world of meaning lies not so much
behind a text in the author’s intention, but in front of it as the text encounters
each of its readers. The ever-changing contexts in which a text is read expand
its meaning, an infinity of the written text he calls its “surplus of meaning,” and
which Jacques Derrida calls its “plenitude.”34 But Buddhaghosa would find him-
self more at home with other medieval thinkers who knew this (rather than
modern deconstructionists like Derrida). For it is not just because a text has an
infinite number of potential readers that its meaning may develop infinitely, but
also, at least in the case of scripture, because of the omniscience of its author. As
Ian Almond suggests, medieval thinkers like the thirteenth-century Sufi exegete
Ibn ‘Arabi linked scriptural infinity to an omniscient author. For Ibn ‘Arabi, the
Quran, as the “inexhaustible words” of God, “has no single message but, rather,
a variety of messages, each one gauged to the competence and situation of its
reader.”35 To interpret the Quran is “to participate in its expansion,” as under-
standing the text draws out the meaning anticipated by God. In Ibn ‘Arabi’s
own words: “on God’s part there are perpetual turnings of attentiveness and in-
exhaustible words”; thus “the situation is new forever.”36 Buddhaghosa and Ibn
‘Arabi would find much to discuss with the Kabbalists. The Torah was said to
possess infinite meaning; one medieval text asserts that “many lights shine forth
from each word and each letter.”37 Gershom Scholem notes the widespread belief
“that the number of possible readings of the Torah was equal to the number of
the 600,000 children of Israel who were present at Mount Sinai—in other words,
33. As 11: asaṅkhyeyyo appameyyo. This metaphor gets extensive development in the Atthasālinī,
discussed in chapter 1.
34. On Derrida, see Almond, “The Meaning of Infinity in Sufi and Deconstructive
Hermeneutics: When Is an Empty Text an Infinite One?,” 104. Ricoeur, Interpretation
Theory: Discourse and the Surplus of Meaning, 92.
35. Almond, “The Meaning of Infinity in Sufi and Deconstructive Hermeneutics,” 103.
36. Almond, “The Meaning of Infinity in Sufi and Deconstructive Hermeneutics,” 108.
37. Scholem, Kabbalah, 172.
Introduction 17
that each single Jew approached the Torah by a path that he alone could follow.”38
We can continue leaping across medieval traditions to note similar ideas in the
work of Meister Eckhart, who shares with Buddhaghosa and Ibn ‘Arabi the oce-
anic imagery of the “shoreless sea” that is scripture, where “there is none so wise
that when he tries to fathom it, he will not find it deeper yet and discover more
in it.”39
As intriguing as this comparative potential may be, we have our hands full
dealing with Buddhaghosa, for once the omniscient Buddha and his inexhaust-
ible words become central to the commentarial project, questions about what
this means for the interpreter only deepen. What is it to interpret a text com-
posed by an omniscient author? How can texts convey his omniscient and im-
measurable knowledge? How can words—finite utterances, recitations, suttas,
books—deliver this unlimited, immeasurable, and omniscient knowledge? And
how might we, with our limited understandings, receive and grasp it?
Other scholars have also noted this distinctive interpretative challenge
facing early Buddhist interpreters. George Bond writes that for the Theravada
“the uniqueness of the Buddha’s teachings constitutes the crux of the her-
meneutical problem. The wisdom of the Buddha is believed to have been as
immense as the ocean. For all practical purposes, he had what can be called om-
niscience.”40 Bond argues that the Pali commentators frame their authority and
significance in terms of this project: interpreting the Dhamma requires one to
grapple with the Buddha’s omniscience. Kate Crosby has written about how the
Abhidhamma tradition in particular sought “to encapsulate and represent as
far as possible the Buddha’s omniscience.”41 Writing more broadly about Indian
Buddhist traditions, Ronald Davidson observes a kind of circular relationship
and permeability “between the Buddha, his dharma, the reality discovered by
him, and the cognition of that reality.”42 Coming to understand one leads to the
38. Scholem, Kabbalah, 172, and cited in Almond, “The Meaning of Infinity in Sufi and
Deconstructive Hermeneutics,” 103.
39. Almond, “The Meaning of Infinity in Sufi and Deconstructive Hermeneutics,” 106, citing
Walshe, Meister Eckhart: German Sermons and Treatises, 250. Griffiths also notes oceanic im-
agery in “religious readings” of scripture (Religious Reading, 41).
40. Bond, “Theravada Buddhism and the Aims of Buddhist Studies,” 59. He goes on to argue
that the “Pāli Commentaries receive their authority and significance for the Theravādins be-
cause they provide the only avenue of approach to the meaning the Dhamma and represent the
only solution to this hermeneutical problem.”
41. Crosby, Traditional Theravada Meditation and Its Modern Era Suppression, 76.
42. Davidson, “Standards of Scriptural Authority,” 294–95.
18 In t rodu ct ion
others.43 Davidson’s observation is particularly useful for helping us see the ways
that the spoken Dhamma is so often understandable principally (as I show for
Buddhaghosa) in reference to the Buddha. And of course the observation it-
self may be seen as a distant echo of the Buddha’s own words: “whoever sees the
Dhamma, sees me, and whoever sees me, sees the Dhamma.”44
Buddhaghosa
Despite being one of the giants of the Buddhist tradition, Buddhaghosa and
his scholarly work have attracted only a handful of monographs. He has also re-
ceived, unjustly, I believe, occasional scholarly disdain.45 Much of the modern
attention that he has received has been concerned with text-critical questions,
such as which texts traditionally ascribed to him were likely to have actually been
his work and what can be discerned about the history of the texts he inherited,
edited, and translated. These are questions complicated by the fact that he is
the editor and translator (into Pali) of a very large body of received tradition
(in ancient Sinhala); “his” commentaries are actually, in his own representation
of the matter, the transmission of this older, but now lost, corpus of material.
This material, the aṭṭhakathā, was alleged to have been taught by teachers dating
to the Buddha’s time, and, while not considered “Buddha’s words,” is reported by
Buddhaghosa to have been recited at the First Council.46 The Visuddhimagga too
seems to have been in part based on an earlier text.47
While the Pali tradition attributes a very large body of commentarial material
to him, modern scholars have been more circumspect about which commentaries
they see as his and indeed what authorship even meant in this context.48 Authorship
conceived of as a single historical person writing something new and entirely
original is elusive in this context. My approach to questions of his authorship is
to consider seriously the possibility that the Samantapāsādikā, the aṭṭhakathās
on the four nikāyas, the Paramatthajotikā, and the three commentaries on the
books of the Abhidhamma, were handled by the same author (or lead author, if,
as most likely, he was working with a team) as the Visuddhimagga (though the
degree of originality of the commentarial material, given that the original Sinhala
versions are no longer extant, is impossible to establish49). I see in this corpus of
texts a very cohesive and systematic program produced by the “school” that his
name has come to represent and is how I use it here; the contours of this school
emerge in the chapters that follow. Even allowing for the prevalence of whole-
sale borrowing and recycling of textual material by authors of different texts in
premodern India, we have in the texts listed previously very substantial bodies of
very similar textual passages and, for the most part, a singular voice and approach.
Indeed, many of the main passages in the nidānas of all three piṭakas on which
I focus are identical, and many passages in the commentaries are identical to parts
of the Visuddhimagga.
I am particularly interested in the modular nature of such identical passages as
they traverse texts and genres, and how they are used in one context for a partic-
ular purpose and then deployed in another context for a completely different pur-
pose. Modularity—the degree to which a system’s components may be separated
and recombined to new effect—is dear to the heart of Buddhaghosa’s thinking
Comparative Study, and, for a translation of the Vimuttimagga, see Ehara, Soma Thera, and
Kheminda Thera, The Path of Freedom.
48. For recent work on questions of which commentaries are connected to Buddhaghosa,
see Cousins, “The Case of the Abhidhamma Commentary,” and von Hinüber, “Building the
Theravāda Commentaries: Buddhaghosa and Dhammapāla as Authors, Compilers, Redactors,
Editors, and Critics.” While perhaps not all of the commentaries attributed to the editorial, au-
thorial, and translation work of Buddhaghosa could be his, we can usefully speak of a “school”
called Buddhaghosa, as Cousins suggests (390). Von Hinüber doubts that Buddhaghosa was
the author of the Abhidhamma and Vinaya commentaries, but considers it likely that he was
connected with them as “the overall organizer” or “head” (262–64). Also important are Endo,
Studies in Pāli Commentarial Literature; Norman, Pāli Literature, 120–30; Collins, “Remarks
on the Visuddhimagga,” 50; and Malalasekera, The Pāli Literature of Ceylon, 94.
49. On the specific question of the relationship of the Pali aṭṭhakathās with the Sinhala
commentaries on which they are based, see, in addition to the sources listed in the pre-
vious footnote, Palihawadana “Dhammapada 1 and 2 and their Commentaries,” and Pind,
“Buddhaghosa: His Words and Scholarly Background,” 135–56.
20 In t rodu ct ion
on the Dhamma, and vital for understanding the systematicity in the work the
tradition attributed to him. It becomes a technique for generating new meaning
and purpose. For example, our passage on the beautiful nature of the Buddha’s
words is used in the Visuddhimagga as a contemplative exercise designed to calm
and focus the mind (Vism VII.69–70). But the same passage is also used in the
introduction to the commentary on the Vinaya (Sp i.126), where such reflections
about the Dhamma function as stage-setting for explaining the greatness of the
Buddha and how he came to know and teach the monastic rules. Parts of the
same passage are again used in the beginning of the Visuddhimagga, to explain
its structure (Vism I.10). This small but representative example suggests both the
systematicity of the aṭṭhakathā layer (which includes and makes constant refer-
ence to the Visuddhimagga) taken as a whole and also the need to be sensitive
to context and purpose in the interpretation of any particular passage, since the
work that it might be doing varies in these different contexts. Notable also in
this example is that the passage doing exegetical work explaining the Buddha’s
words is at one and the same time used as a contemplative exercise in a training
on meditation, suggesting a conflation or a dual purpose of textual analysis and
contemplative analysis (a theme we return to many times in the book). This may
be a case where modern assumptions that would sharply delineate textual analysis
and contemplative practice need to be reexamined.
I aim to show that the Visuddhimagga and the commentaries attributed to
Buddhaghosa constitute a body of material reflective about and guided by a
programmatic system. While commentaries must follow their root texts in the
ordering of their contributions and thus can sometimes obscure how they fit
into the whole of a commentator’s own intellectual framework, Buddhaghosa
provides substantial reflection on how he sees the “whole” that he is endeavoring
to construct; indeed, demonstrating some of how he thought about that
“whole” (that which concerns interpreting the Dhamma textually) is an aim
of this book. One obvious whole in question is, of course, the Visuddhimagga,
which is a very systematic presentation of the Dhamma. Buddhaghosa sees the
Visuddhimagga as the hub of his commentarial writings. He depicts a system with
“the Visuddhimagga at the center of the commentaries on the four āgamas,”50
and the commentarial tradition following him took this to be a claim about a
single commentarial system of shared material that also included commentaries
on the Abhidhamma and Vinaya.51 Of course, the Visuddhimagga is just “part”
of the much greater whole that is the Dhamma itself as it reflects or conveys
Because of the depth of the Khuddaka certain commentaries are very diffi-
cult for someone like me who is not awakened to the Dispensation.
But since the certainty of the early masters is unbroken even today, the
ninefold Dispensation of the Teacher is still established.
Therefore, I want to make this commentary on the meaning, relying
on the Dispensation and the ancient deliberations, with veneration of the
Good Dhamma, not from a desire for self-praise or for the purpose of
despising others. So listen attentively!52
This full acknowledgment of his condition—of being “someone like me” who is
unawakened—appears to require his commitment to the hoary and unbroken tra-
dition. His humility in this endeavor appears from time to time elsewhere in his
work; it might just indicate a trope of modesty and deference to the authorities,
but it can also be interpreted in a way that is in keeping with what he takes to be
Buddhist practice, which, as I show, involves being personally oriented to and
profoundly awed by the greatness of the Buddha and his Dispensation (as they
are remembered from the past).
As we have seen, legends about Buddhaghosa’s life describe him as arriving in
Lanka as an outsider and having to prove his mettle to the monastic authorities
by producing the Visuddhimagga repeatedly and consistently, and only then is
he invited to translate the commentaries from the local language of old Sinhala
to the translocal language of Pali. Whatever we might make of the historical ve-
racity of these legends, they do suggest a milieu in which the production of the
Visuddhimagga and his involvement with the aṭṭhakathā were carried out under
the watchful supervision of authorities committed to certain representations
of a tradition about which there were differing views and strong investments.
Buddhaghosa avers that he follows the Sīhala-aṭṭhakathā, “not contradicting the
understanding of the luminaries of the lineage of Elders, those residing in the
Mahāvihāra.”53 At the same time, he often offers alternative readings and allows
multiple readings to stand side-by-side in his commentaries, sometimes suggesting
a preferred reading but without insisting on it as the final or only interpretation.
Perhaps this is a way that he worked to make possible readings he favored without
omitting or refuting those of the “luminaries” who may have overseen his work.
Also important to note as we assess the nature of his project is what he
does not say about his work. One way to track this is to consider the opening
praise verses of his works. We can compare his opener to his commentary on the
Khuddaka that we just saw to those of the slightly later fifth-century Buddhist
thinker in India, Diṅnāga. Diṅnāga has often been credited with initiating
Buddhist thinkers’ epistemological turn and their development of rational argu-
mentation that requires entering into polemics, defending one’s own argument,
and refuting that of others. As Piotr Balcerowicz shows, Diṅnāga marks a change
in opening verses in this period that reflects a context of debate with rival schools
of philosophy reading and rebutting one another, and the shift is demonstrated
by subsequent Jain and Buddhist accounts of the purposes of their work. Later
texts’ opening verses indicate that they intend to argue for a position rationally
while dismantling rivals’ views; Balcerowicz contrasts these elements with those
of earlier texts aimed at an in-house audience and concerned with “laudation.”54
For example, Diṅnāga’s verses opening his Pramāṇa-samuccaya describe his
efforts to establish the cognitive criterion (pramāṇa) that supports his positions
“with the purpose of refuting rival [theories concerning] the cognitive criterion
55. As translated and discussed by Balcerowicz, “Some Remarks on the Opening Sections in
Jaina Epistemological Treatises,” 61.
56. Crosby, “Sāriputta’s Three Works on the Samantapāsādikā.” Blackburn, Buddhist Learning
and Textual Practice in Eighteenth-Century Lankan Monastic Culture, 80, notes the impor-
tance of Buddhaghosa’s work in this later period.
57. Hallisey, Devotion in the Medieval Literature of Sri Lanka, 222–29.
58. Crosby, Theravada Buddhism: Continuity, Diversity, and Identity, 89, citing Keyes, “Merit-
Transference in the Kammic Theory of Popular Theravāda Buddhism,” 272.
24 In t rodu ct ion
doctrinal formulations have attracted both fierce adherents and detractors, with
many committed views on all sides regarding what it is that he taught. In keeping
with the central role of Buddhaghosa’s work in Burma, the nineteenth-century
reformer Ledi Sayadaw relied on the Visuddhimagga even while he offered a sig-
nificant alternative to it as he revived the Abhidhamma tradition and fashioned
a new lay-oriented practice in that country that helped generate the modernist
mindfulness movement internationally.59 More stridently, the Thai reformist
monk Bhikkhu Buddhadāsa situated his own system of doctrine and practice in
opposition to that of Buddhaghosa (as he understood him).60 Nevertheless, John
Strong echoes a widely held view among scholars and practicing Buddhists that
the Visuddhimagga “remains the greatest compendium of Theravāda thought
ever written” and that Buddhaghosa’s exegeses on the canonical texts have shaped
the way the Buddhist scriptures have been read ever since.61
This Book
In keeping with textual practices I have come to admire in Buddhaghosa, I should
say something about what prompted this book, its context, and how I hope it
might be received. When I first began to study Abhidhamma and tried to figure
out what it is, I found myself returning time and again to Buddhaghosa’s introduc-
tion to his commentary on its first book, the Atthasālinī. As mentioned earlier,
this introductory matter is also quoted in large measure in his introductions to
the other piṭakas, and came to constitute the theoretical and practical frame-
work he used to interpret the types of Buddhist knowledge. The more I read his
commentaries on all genres the more I found that this framework for treating
Buddhist knowledge informed and shaped Buddhaghosa’s actual commentarial
practice. Learning Buddhaghosa’s views of how Buddhist texts work has helped
me follow him more carefully as he moves around in the vast literature of the
Pali canon. It has also helped me grasp the very systematic architectonic of the
Dhamma that his work helped construct.
It also changed my encounter with canonical sources. Texts I thought I under-
stood became, in effect, new again for me when I read them with Buddhaghosa.
Guided by Buddhaghosa’s theories of text and his distinctive reading practices
made my reading of canonical sources much richer and often sources of great
59. Braun, The Birth of Insight: Meditation, Modern Buddhism, and the Burmese Monk Ledi
Sayadaw.
60. Swearer, ed., Me and Mine: Selected Essays of Bhikkhu Buddhadasa, 121–23.
61. Strong, “Buddhaghosa,” 75.
Introduction 25
64. On the Pali hermeneutical guides and protocols, see Ñāṇamoli, The Guide, and Bond,
The Word of the Buddha. On Buddhist hermeneutics from a range of traditions, see Lopez,
Buddhist Hermeneutics, and “Buddhist Books and Texts: Exegesis and Hermeneutics”;
Cabezon, Buddhism and Language: A Study of Indo-Tibetan Scholasticism; Nance, Speaking
for Buddhas: Scriptural Commentary in Indian Buddhism, and “Buddhist Hermeneutics”; and
Skilling, “Vasubandhu and the Vyākhyāyukti Literature.”
65. Collins, Nirvana and Other Buddhist Felicities, and “Remarks on the Visuddhimagga, and
on its Treatment of the Memory of Former Dwelling(s) (pubbenivāsānussatiñāṇa).”
66. Walters, “Suttas as History: Four Approaches to the Sermon on the Noble Quest
(Ariyapariyesanasutta),” particularly 266–72.
67. Endo, Buddha in Theravada Buddhism, and Studies in Pāli Commentarial Literature.
Introduction 27
this one thinker—albeit one whose work and significance are so monumental
and my efforts to understand them are still so tentative that I have yet to over-
come the feeling that I am but a tiny hare tossed into a vast ocean scrambling for
a foothold (to borrow an image from Buddhaghosa). I center on what might be
called the conceptual, literary, and rhetorical dimensions of what Buddhaghosa
thought could happen in an encounter with Buddhist scripture, and how these
might in some instances have philosophical significance. I am interested in how
Buddhaghosa conceived of both scripture and commentary, what his definitions
of genre were, and how he thought scriptural language works and texts make
meaning. My method is to read with him to discover the methods he used and to
encounter the canon he saw.
Because of this, my arguments about what Buddhaghosa is doing develop cu-
mulatively and unfold over the whole of the book; a much larger edifice—a larger
whole—is slowly being built, and parts need to be explored in relationship to
this whole. Moreover, as Wittgenstein warned, “light dawns gradually over the
whole,” perhaps especially when taking up a polymathic thinker credited with
helping to construct a vast corpus. Part One lays out the building blocks of the
whole enterprise (chapter 1 exploring claims of the Buddha’s omniscience and
the immeasurability of his words, and chapter 2 describing the main interpreta-
tive distinctions that later bear some of the weight of certain arguments about
Buddhist knowledge articulated in the piṭakas). Part Two (chapters 3–5) considers
Buddhaghosa’s treatment of each of the three piṭakas to build on and contrast
with one another points of emphasis and styles of thought. In addition to the
additive and layered nature of this exploration, I am also committed to tracing
the modular nature of Buddhaghosa’s treatment of the Dhamma, which entails
attention to context and purpose across the larger edifice. Buddhaghosa is an au-
thor who may particularly suffer from the tendencies of busy modern scholars
to drop in on specific discussions and lift out bits of doctrine shorn of the very
contexts in which they were at work; scholars have often used the Visuddhimagga
principally as a reference tool rather than reading it for the intellectual edifice it
is attempting to construct.70 Dipping into the text to look up definitions, lists, or
points of doctrine risks obscuring the work these are doing within a larger net-
work of practices. One might assume that an abstracted passage is speaking in
generalist terms or making metaphysical claims, when in fact it could be working
within a particular context as a method for a particular purpose.
Let me state in brief here what we investigate in detail in the chapters that
follow. In chapter 1, I explore Buddhaghosa’s introduction to buddhavacana,
which centers on the three piṭakas, conceived as methods and competencies in
learning that give glimpses of the immeasurability of the Buddha’s omniscient
ken. I show how the commentators developed their claim of this omniscience,
noting that they did not do so via a formal philosophical argument, but rather
through trying to discover how buddhavacana is, in principle, endless. Chapter 2
considers the genres (the three piṭakas and the genre of aṭṭhakathā) and the var-
ious discourses, registers of speech, and modes of intellection and pedagogy the
commentators identified in buddhavacana, and then deployed as distinctions
useful for interpretation. These include the ways the teaching can be taught in
brief and in detail (saṅkittena/vitthārena), with meaning and with phrasing
(attha/byañjana), in conventional uses of language and uses that get at furthest
meaning (sammuti/paramattha), definitively and in ways requiring further in-
terpretation (nītattha/neyyattha), and contextually and categorically (pariyāya/
nippariyāya). While all of these are important for his exegetical work and are
returned to throughout the book, Buddhaghosa developed this last distinction
between contextual and categorical modes of discourse as vital for interpreting
the Suttanta and Abhidhamma, respectively. To trace how this distinction works
in practice, chapter 3 takes up the highly contextual form of knowledge the
commentators saw at work in Suttanta knowledge by focusing on the nidāna, the
introductory framing of a sutta. This chapter explores how Buddhaghosa drew
out the narrative, contextual, and particularist conception of buddhavacana and
its expression of the Buddha’s omniscience. Chapter 4 considers his view of the
abstract modes of analysis that constitute the Abhidhamma, and how he saw its
methods as enacting the infinite nature of the Buddha’s omniscience in a different
form. Finally, c hapter 5 takes up the commentarial reading of the Vinaya Piṭaka
in how it explores the way that the monastic rules demonstrate the Buddha’s in-
finite knowledge, in particular, of past, present, and future. I have included three
appendices that give translations of substantial selections of commentaries on
which I draw heavily in the book, and which the reader may want to read to get a
sense of Buddhaghosa’s range and commentarial style.
PART I
1. See Endo, Studies in Pāli Commentarial Literature, for analysis of Buddhaghosa’s editorial
work and other modern philological discussions of his authorship and dating of particular texts.
34 Build ing Blo cks for an In t er pretat ive Pro gr a m
the Buddha’s own day and in the transmission of those texts to the present and
future. What does it mean to become learned in buddhavacana? While the next
chapter discusses specific disciplinary strategies for making sense of the varieties
of discourse that constitute scripture by focusing on his actual hermeneutical
protocols and distinctions, this chapter explores at a more general level the
intellectual conditions Buddhaghosa anticipated for grasping buddhavacana.
I see the chief conceptual challenges Buddhaghosa discerned in buddhavacana
and its interpretability as centered on how textual knowledge stands in relation-
ship to Buddha’s omniscient knowledge. How can texts convey the omniscient
ken of the Buddha, which in turn grasps the immeasurable Dhamma? And how
can these be grasped by those who would seek to understand it?
Buddhavacana
While the term buddhavacana is seldom mentioned in the canonical sources
as such—they speak instead of the “Dhamma”—buddhavacana is a category
Buddhaghosa inherited, helped to fashion, and made central to his under-
standing of scripture. In the tradition he received, buddhavacana was a quantifi-
able body of material, subject to various kinds of description. It was, as he himself
recounts, the material recited at the First Council, when under the leadership
of Mahākassapa, Upāli recited the Vinaya and Ᾱnanda recited the Dhamma.2
Having described this first recitation and codification of the scriptures, he defines
the First Council’s collected material thus:
2. His account of the First Council occurs in Sv i.2.15, Sp i.4–16, and Pj I 89–98, a narrative
based on the Vinaya’s account (Vin ii.285–290), and which also borrows heavily from the
chronicles. Buddhaghosa’s passage has been quite well worked over in modern scholarship (see
Jayawickrama, trans., The Inception of the Discipline, for a translation of the Samantapāsādikā’s
treatment of the first three councils of the Mahāvihāra tradition, and Jayawickrama’s discussion
of them). As Lamotte has said, “few historical problems have caused so much ink to flow as that
of the Buddhist councils,” though his own discussion is very much worth looking at (History of
Indian Buddhism, 124). For helpful treatments of the substantial scholarship on the councils,
see Collins, “On the Very Idea of the Pāli Canon,” and Hallisey, “Councils as Ideas and Events
in the Theravāda.” It is of course important to note that the Mahāvihāran historical narrative
of the canon, the First Council, and its own unbroken and uniquely authentic inheritance of
these as constructed in its chronicles and commentaries was produced in a context of sectarian
rivalry and, despite its ultimate triumph, likely represents a minority view in its own time.
On this point, see Walters, “Mahāyāna Theravāda and the Origins of the Mahāvihāra,” and
“Buddhist History: The Sri Lankan Pāli Vaṃsas and Their Commentary,” and Skilling et al.,
How Theravada Was the Theravada?
Omniscience and Immeasurability 35
middle, and end, and [threefold] likewise in terms of the piṭakas, fivefold
in terms of the nikāyas, ninefold in terms of its parts, and composed of
84,000 units of Dhamma.3
This definition of the corpus, which he says was arranged in this manner at the First
Council itself,4 is the framework in which he considers the ways buddhavacana
may be classified. It is instructive to see how he parses these different divisions in
this definition.
First, buddhavacana has a “single taste”: “everything said by the Bhagavan,
whether by contemplation or by teaching to deities, humans, nāgas, or yakkhas, et
cetera, in the forty-five-years between having attained highest perfect Awakening
up to the final nibbāna without remainder, has one taste—the taste of freedom.”5
This claim about the “whole” unites the diverse teachings around both a single
teleological aim and a single reception—the same message of freedom went out
to everyone and its taste was everywhere the same.
The twofold distinction of Dhamma and Vinaya can allow for the inclusion
of both Abhidhamma and Suttanta as part of the “Dhamma.” The first threefold
distinction is the tripartite beginning, middle, and end in the words spoken in
his teaching career of expounding buddhavacana flanked by two great trees: that
is, it started with an utterance made under the Bo Tree and ended with his final
words at his death under a Sal tree.6 (Trees are everywhere marking important
achievements and occasions.) Buddhavacana is also threefold defined according to
the three piṭakas, and here Buddhaghosa notes that this includes material “both
3. Sv i.15; Sp i.16 (cf. As 18): Tadetaṃ sabbampi buddhavacanaṃ rasavasena ekavidhaṃ,
dhammavinayavasena duvidhaṃ, paṭhamamajjhimapacchimavasena tividhaṃ; tathā
piṭakavasena, nikāyavasena pañcavidhaṃ, aṅgavasena navavidhaṃ, dhammakkhandhavasena
caturāsītisahassavidhanti veditabbaṃ.
4. Sv i.25; Sp i.29; As 27.
5. Yañhi bhagavatā anuttaraṃ sammāsambodhiṃ abhisambujjhitvā yāva anupādisesāya
nibbānadhātuyā parinibbāyati, etthantare pañcacattālīsavassāni devamanussanāgayakkhādayo
anusāsantena paccavekkhantena vā vuttaṃ, sabbaṃ taṃ ekarasaṃ vimuttirasameva hoti (Sv i.15;
Sp i.16).
6. Sv.i.16; Sp i.17; As 18. Buddhaghosa notes some dispute about exactly which of two
possibilities the first utterance of buddhavacana consisted in: according to the Dhammapada
reciters it is Dhammapada 153–54, but Buddhaghosa also says that the first utterance is a verse
from Udāna 1. He resolves this in Pj I.13 by saying that the Dhammapada verse was first uttered,
but in the mind (manasāva vuttavasena), and the other was actually vocalized. This section in
its Atthasālinī version is translated in full in Appendix C.
36 Build ing Blo cks for an In t er pretat ive Pro gr a m
recited and not recited at the First Council” headed by Mahākassapa.7 (We will
examine below some of what he might have had in mind about the material not
recited, and yet included in the resulting collection.) He lists here all the suttas
that make up the four nikāyas (Dīgha, Majjhima, Saṃyutta, and Aṅguttara) to-
gether with the fifteen books that constitute the Khuddaka Nikāya; the seven
books of the Abhidhamma; and the sections that constitute the Vinaya (two
Pātimokkhas, two Vibhaṅgas, twenty-two Khandhakas, and sixteen Parivāras)—
a collection of material that modern scholars call “the Pali canon.” This division is
the classification that he is most interested in and which he spends the most time
on, and we shall examine at length his treatment of the genres of knowledge the
piṭakas convey below.
The piṭaka classification can be swallowed by one of its own internal categories
when buddhavacana is said to be fivefold. This means that the whole buddhavacana
can be divided among the four nikāyas (Dīgha, Majjhima, Saṃyutta, and
Aṅguttara) and the fifth, “Miscellaneous Collection” (Khuddaka Nikāya). In this
division, the Vinaya and Abhidhamma piṭakas can be included in the Khuddaka
in addition to its fifteen books: “Which is the Khuddaka Nikāya? The Buddha’s
words except the four nikāyas are established as the entire Vinaya, Abhidhamma,
and the fifteen books starting with the aforementioned Khuddakapāṭha.”8 Here a
category for miscellaneous items is useful to sweep up and include much sundry
material, not least the two other piṭakas, though of course elsewhere we find the
more familiar division of the three piṭakas.
Buddhaghosa goes on to say that buddhavacana may also be divided among
an ancient ninefold division of the Dhamma, which was a stock canonical
account of genre: teachings, recitations, expositions, verses, inspired utterances,
quotations, birth stories, teachings of wonders, and questions-and-answers.9
While mentioned in the four nikāyas as a classification of the Dhamma, it is only
in a few of the later Khuddaka texts that the ninefold division is equated with
buddhavacana, as such. This classification is nowhere explained in the canon
itself, but its frequency in a stock phrasing describing the Dhamma may have
obliged Buddhaghosa to at least mention it here. Scholars have suggested that
though Buddhaghosa attempts to classify particular parts of the Suttanta into
these divisions it is clear that the full significance and utility of this classification
is lost on him.10
The notion that buddhavacana contains 84,000 units (khandha) of dhamma
is an echo of Ᾱnanda’s words, quoted not from the First Council as we might
expect, but rather from Ānanda’s biographical poem recorded in the Theragāthā,
where he stated, “I learned 82,000 from the Buddha, and 2,000 from the monks,
thus mastering 84,000 [units of ] the Dhamma.”11 Buddhaghosa elaborates that
units in the Suttanta are divided per connection or sequence (anusandhika) or,
in suttas with a question-answer format, where the question constitutes one unit
and the answer a second; in the Abhidhamma, each analysis of a dyad or triad,
or each analysis of a thought-process, constitutes a unit; and in the Vinaya, units
are the listing of subjects, the analysis of terms, offenses, determinations of inno-
cence, offenses in the supplementary section, and in the threefold classification
of offenses.12 Perhaps most important to note about Ᾱnanda’s claim is that the
words of others are also included in buddhavacana. As we will see, words inspired
by the Buddha yet spoken by his disciples and subsequent elders have, from the
time of canonical sources themselves, been regarded as authentic teachings of the
Buddha.
As mentioned earlier, Buddhaghosa asserts that all of these classifications
were arranged and recited in the full seven-month period of the First Council.
This manner of defining buddhavacana emphasizes a very systematic collection
of textual material that benefits from various ways of classifying it; through
such classifications, each category can be interpreted variously (as for example,
Abhidhamma is sometimes best conceived as a piṭaka, sometimes as part of
References to the ninefold distinction are common in the four nikāyas, including A ii.6–7; M
i.133, et cetera.
10. See Jayawickrama, The Inception of the Discipline, 25–26, 101–2, Norman, Pāli Literature,
15–17, and Lamotte, History of Indian Buddhism, 143–45. Buddhaghosa’s treatment of it can be
found in several places: Sp i.28; Sv i.23; As 26. The ninefold Dhamma is found many places in
the canonical sources, as for example, M.ii.105–6. It is not, however, an important hermeneu-
tical distinction for the Netti or Peṭ, and the Dīpavaṃsa records how it came to be replaced at
the First Council by the piṭaka classification (Norman, Pāli Literature, 16).
11. Sp.i.29; Sv.i.24; As 27, quoting Th 92.
12. Sp i.29; As 27; Sv i.24.
38 Build ing Blo cks for an In t er pretat ive Pro gr a m
13. As 27–28.
14. Tattha aparimāṇā padā aparimāṇā byañjanā aparimāṇā tathāgatassa dhammadesanā
(A ii.182) and tathāgatassa dhammadesanā, apariyādinnaṃyevassa tathāgatassa
dhammapadabyañjanaṃ (M i.83). See “Introduction.”
15. S v.430: Tattha aparimāṇā vaṇṇā aparimāṇā byañjanā aparimāṇā saṅkāsanā—‘itipidaṃ
dukkhaṃ ariyasacca’nti.
Omniscience and Immeasurability 39
and illustration—that the Buddha could preach the truth of suffering: “when
this truth is extended in detail by every mode, one by one, there is no end to the
expressions.”16 The Buddha’s facility with language, it seems, allowed him to ex-
press ideas in endless linguistic forms, and suffering in particular is immeasurably
expressible.
As much as the linguistic form—the phrasing (byañjana)—of the teaching
may be expanded immeasurably, so too, its meaning (attha). When the Buddha
spoke he could not exhaust either the meaning or the phrasing of the Dhamma.
In fact, when it comes to analytical understanding, “it is implausible and impos-
sible that one who possesses the four kinds of analysis (paṭisambhidā) would
come to the end of either meaning or phrasing.”17 Paṭisambhidā is analysis,
making distinctions. In Buddhaghosa’s understanding, the four kinds of anal-
ysis are the analysis of “things” (or “meaning” or “purpose,” attha), the analysis
of phenomena (dhamma) [or, in some places, the spoken Dhamma], the analysis
of language (nirutti), and the analysis of knowledge (paṭibhāna). Very briefly and
generally, the analysis of things is the capacity to discern phenomena that have
been caused or conditioned: to analyze the “effect of a cause” (hetuphala). The
analysis of dhammas is discerning conditions (paccaya). The analysis of language is
the capacity for discriminating how language is being used. And analysis of knowl
edge is a reflexive or meta-analytic capacity to review the previous three.18 These
16. Here is the full translation of the relevant commentary on S v.430: “ ‘Expressions are immeas-
urable’ means that ‘the syllables’ [of the text] are immeasurable. ‘Phrasing’ is just a synonym of
that, or phrasing is one part of an expression. ‘Illustration’ is a variety [of it]. When this truth
[of suffering] is extended in detail by every mode, one by one, there is no end to the expressions,
et cetera.” (aparimāṇā vaṇṇāti appamāṇāni akkharāni. Byañjanāti tesaṃyeva vevacanaṃ,
vaṇṇānaṃ vā ekadesā yadidaṃ byañjanā nāma. Saṅkāsanāti vibhattiyo. Ekamekasmiñhi sacce
sabbākārena vitthāriyamāne vaṇṇādīnaṃ anto nāma natthi [Spk iii.298]). A similar idea is
conveyed in Mp iii.166 on A ii.182.
17. Aṭṭhānametaṃ, bhikkhave, anavakāso yaṃ catūhi paṭisambhidāhi samannāgato atthato vā
byañjanato vā pariyādānaṃ gaccheyyā’’ti (A ii.139). Lamotte suggests that as a general prin-
ciple “the meaning is single and invariable, while the letter is multiple and infinitely variable”
(Lamotte, “The Assessment of Textual Interpretation in Buddhism,” 13). But the two passages
(S iv.281, 297) he cites in support of this claim need not be taken as general or universalizable
claims about meaning and phrasing, but rather as a preference for a method in which partic-
ular words and phrasings are taken this way in these two cases. I discuss this matter in the next
chapter.
18. See Vism 441 (XIV.22–3) and Vibh-a 386–88; “dhamma” can also mean the spoken, scrip-
tural teachings (Vism 441, XIV.24). See also the discussion of the four paṭisambhidā, which
were variously understood in the textual sources, in Aung and Rhys Davids, trans., Points of
Controversy, 377–82. Ronkin (Early Buddhist Metaphysics, 87–88) discusses the differences in
how these terms are understood in the Paṭisambhidāmagga and the Vibhaṅga. Nance gives sub-
stantial treatment of these four analyses (or “discriminations”) in Sanskrit and Tibetan sources
(Speaking for Buddhas, 55–65), which differ from how they are interpreted in the Pali sources,
40 Build ing Blo cks for an In t er pretat ive Pro gr a m
forms of analysis are important for our story because they indicate the idea that
analysis—of things, of phenomena, of language, and of reflexive processes—is
the way that the Buddha’s teachings are expanded. In the case of the first two,
analyzing the phenomenal world and its causal processes becomes the potentially
endless application of the teachings; and in the case of the second two, analyzing
language and reflexive processes becomes the endless work of study, exegesis, and
thought. We consider these types of analysis further in the next chapter.
But we must return to claims about the immeasurability of the Buddha’s
teachings and how and where these are made. At the commentarial level,
Buddhaghosa is particularly interested in how the Buddha, when thinking
through the Dhamma in his mind, cannot find an end of it. In one particu-
larly vivid and extended illustration of this idea developed in the Atthasālinī,
Buddhaghosa describes the fourth week after the Buddha’s first night of awak-
ening, as he sat and explored with his omniscience the content of the seven books
that became the Abhidhamma Piṭaka (see Appendix C). The Buddha wonders
“how large is the Dhamma [that he] contemplated for seven days and nights?”
and answers, “the Dhamma [contemplated in] the mind” is “endless and immeas-
urable.”19 The conundrums apparent in this situation become a source of further
wonder to Buddhaghosa: how can something immeasurable be communicable in
a finite amount of time? But it is not to be said that “the Teacher, having put into
speech the Dhamma thought out by the mind for seven days, teaching even for a
hundred years, a thousand years, or a hundred thousand years, having reached its
summit, is not able to teach it.”20 And later he was able to convey this immeasur-
able content in a three-month period to his mother in one of the heavens. At that
time, he taught the Abhidhamma at the root of a heavenly coral tree in Tāvatiṃsa
heaven, where “the teaching set forth without interruption for three months was
endless and immeasurable as it flowed rapidly like the heavenly Ganges and like
water rushing from an upside-down pot.”21
but he notes similarly that the four discriminations facilitate “the inexhaustibility and limitless-
ness of the teaching of the dharma” (57).
19. As 15: satta rattindivāni sammasitadhammo kittako ahosīti? Ananto aparimāṇo ahosi. Ayaṃ
tāva manasādesanā nāma.
20. As 15: satthā pana evaṃ sattāhaṃ manasā cintitadhammaṃ vacībhedaṃ katvā desento
vassasatenapi vassasahassenapi vassasatasahassenapi matthakaṃ pāpetvā desetuṃ na sakkotīti na
vattabbaṃ.
21. As 15: Tayo māse nirantaraṃ pavattitadesanā vegena pavattā ākāsagaṅgā viya adhomukha
ṭhapitaudakaghaṭā nikkhantaudakadhārā viya ca hutvā anantā aparimāṇā ahosi. The idea
that the Buddha taught his mother the Abhidhamma in heaven seems to have been held
only by the Mahāvihārans; see Skilling on this tradition (“Dharma, Dhāraṇī, Abhidharma,
Avadāna: What Was Taught in Trayastriṃśa?,” 51–53).
Omniscience and Immeasurability 41
Part of the answer to how so much could be conveyed by the Buddha is the
quickness of his elocution. In light of how quickly teachings comprising the
nikāyas can be conveyed—the length of a Dhamma talk after a meal—the three
months it took him to preach the Abhidhamma to his mother seem like a very long
time by contrast, but one appropriate for the endlessness of the Abhidhamma,
which in this discussion is his main theme.
Surely this only raises further questions. How can such a teaching as the
Abhidhamma be grasped, and then conveyed, by others? Here Buddhaghosa
allows that even so erudite a person as Ᾱnanda (“he who heard much”), a master
of all three piṭakas, “who could learn, recite, or teach 1,500 verses and 60,000
words standing there as easily as if he was plucking flowers from vines,” even he
“studying a hundred or a thousand years would not be able to reach the end of
the teaching taught by the Teacher in that way in the three-month period.”23 Then
how and to whom was it conveyed on earth? It seems that at the time he was
giving the teaching in heaven, it became necessary for the Buddha to take breaks
for rest and refreshment (leaving a clone in heaven to carry on), and on one such
siesta he was attended by Sāriputta. Sāriputta was foremost among monks skilled
in analysis (paṭisambhidā), and because of this skill the Buddha was able to teach
him the Abhidhamma quite quickly.
Then the Teacher gave him the method (naya). He showed him,
“Sāriputta, so much Dhamma is taught by me.” When the Perfectly
Awakened Buddha was giving the method in this way to the chief disciple
accomplished in analysis (paṭisambhidā), there was the gift of the method
much like one pointing at what is seen by stretching out one’s hand while
standing at the seashore. And to the elder also the Dhamma, taught by the
Bhagavan with a hundred methods, a thousand methods, a hundred thou-
sand methods, became clear.24
This suggests that Sāriputta’s capacity for analysis made it possible for him to
grasp a method—here configured as a gift—conveyed through a gesture likened
to pointing at the ocean (a stock figure of endlessness). Sāriputta could himself
expand, through paṭisambhidā analysis, these methods in order to communi-
cate the immeasurability of the Abhidhamma. Abhidhamma is here represented
as methods that can be given briefly to those who know how to do the analysis
that can expand it. (It is noteworthy that mastery of the four types of analysis is
ascribed to Buddhaghosa himself in his early career as a monk, at least as he is
remembered in the later legends of his life).25
These details may seem fanciful, but if we slide over them too quickly we risk
missing something essential about Buddhaghosa’s conception of texts. First, he
approaches scripture with a literary, even poetic, sensibility, alert to the special
qualities of the Buddha’s speech whereby it conveys something infinite within its
limited forms. This literary aesthetic is not always noted in Buddhaghosa’s work,
but is an enduring theme of the interpretation that I develop in c hapters 3 and
5. Second, notable about this particular account is the idea that the Abhidhamma
conveys the immeasurable through analytical methods. The nature and
24. As 16: Athassa satthā nayaṃ deti. Sāriputta, ettako dhammo mayā desito’ti ācikkhati. Evaṃ
sammāsambuddhe nayaṃ dente paṭisambhidāppattassa aggasāvakassa velante ṭhatvā hatthaṃ
pasāretvā dassitasamuddasadisaṃ nayadānaṃ hoti. Therassāpi nayasatena nayasahassena
nayasatasahassena bhagavatā desitadhammo upaṭṭhātiyeva. The colophon of the Atthasālinī
also describes the teaching of the Abhidhamma to Sāriputta as giving him a teaching “by way
of method” (As 1: desetvā nayato).
25. Ñāṇamoli, The Path of Purification, xxxvii, recounting the relevant passage in the
Buddhaghosuppatti.
Omniscience and Immeasurability 43
26. As 4–6, citing M.i.110 of the Madhupiṇḍika Sutta. Mahākaccāna is considered foremost of
monks able to “expand the meaning in detail of what was said in brief ” (saṅkhittena bhāsitassa
vitthāreṇa atthaṃ vibhajantānaṃ [A i.23]).
27. As 4.
28. This is very much in keeping Gethin’s analysis of mātikā in “The Mātikās: Memorization,
Mindfulness, and the List,” 149–72.
44 Build ing Blo cks for an In t er pretat ive Pro gr a m
problems). But perhaps most basically the idea that buddhavacana conveyed
something immeasurable and endless made it possible to read all of the texts with
an interpretative style that seeks in them, whether parts or wholes, the immeasur-
able, infinite, omniscient ken of the Buddha, known as the Dhamma itself.
33. M i.171; M ii.93: in this sutta, Buddha claims to be a “knower of all” (sabbavidūham asmi)
and hesitates to teach, since his knowledge may not find a recipient who can understand it. The
later text, the Jātaka-nidānakathā, claims he attained omniscience (sabbaññutañāṇa) on the
night of enlightenment (as cited in Jaini, “On the Sarvajñatva (Omniscience) of Mahāvīra and
the Buddha.” 103). The Kathāvatthu (Kv 228) claims that the Buddha was “all knowing and all
seeing” (sabbaññūsabbadassāvī ).
34. S iv.15; see Anālayo, “The Buddha and Omniscience,” 9 and Kalupahana, A History of
Buddhist Philosophy, Continuities and Discontinuities, 43.
35. A parallel development occurs in the ways postcanonical Jain treatises come to introduce
themselves, where “the truth that the omniscient one once fathomed remains the corner-
stone of the treatise in question,” according to Balcerowicz (“Some Remarks on the Opening
Sections in Jaina Epistemological Treatises,” 28).
36. As 12: imasmiṃ vata me pallaṅke sabbaññutaññāṇaṃ paṭividdha’nti. See Endo, Buddha in
Theravada Buddhism, 58–78, for a description of canonical and commentarial claims about the
Buddha’s omniscience.
37. Patiṣ i.131–34, chs. 72–73. See Ñāṇamoli, trans., The Path of Discrimination, 131–34.
46 Build ing Blo cks for an In t er pretat ive Pro gr a m
listing that enumerates the categories of Abhidhamma analysis that are, in effect,
the fundamental points of doctrine and the methods for its elaboration. These he
can know without limitation.
Buddhaghosa (or his team if it was not he who worked directly on the
Paṭisambhidāmagga commentary, as modern scholars doubt) emphasizes in
the commentary that Buddha’s omniscience meant “unobstructed knowledge”
(anāvaraṇañāṇa) into “all things” (sabbadhamma)38: “he is called omniscient
by acquiring unobstructed knowledge, not by knowing everything all at once.”39
Toshiichi Endo has also demonstrated that the Pali commentators’ interpre-
tation of Buddha’s omniscience was that his knowledge will arise in an “unob-
structed” manner: to whichever aspect of reality he attends, whether something
in the past, present, or future, or the extent of other beings’ biases and tendencies,
he will know and apprehend it without any obstruction or barrier whereby the
knowledge could come up short or stop.40 The Paṭisambhidāmagga commentary
emphasizes that the Buddha “knows everything constructed and not constructed
without remainder, where ‘everything’ here means the taking up completely and
entirely of all things by way of kind.”41 The Buddha is said to be “All-Seeing”
(samantacakkhu), another way of indicating his omniscience.42 The importance
of seeing all is as critical as knowing all.
While for the most part the Pali commentators eschewed formal epistemo-
logical theorizing about omniscience of the sort that we see develop in the philo-
sophical Mahāyāna traditions,43 Dhammapāla takes up some of the philosophical
challenges presented by claims of omniscience, arguing, for instance, that this
omniscience must be seen as a type of potentiality (samatthatā); it cannot be
knowledge of all dhammas simultaneously, since to apprehend everything at
once is to not apprehend things singly and distinctly (and so it cannot logically
be simultaneous knowledge of parts and wholes). Yet we cannot say the Buddha
38. Paṭis-a ii.428–29.
39. Paṭis-a ii.429: Anāvaraṇañāṇapaṭilābhenapi sabbaññūti vuccati, na ca sakiṃsabbaññūti.
40. Endo, Buddha in Theravada Buddhism, ch. 2. See also Dhammapāla’s commentary on the
Visuddhimagga, as quoted by Ñāṇamoli, trans., The Path of Purification, 772–77, n. 7; a similar
passage is also in ItiA i.139–41); see also Jaini, “On the Sarvajñatva (Omniscience) of Mahāvīra
and the Buddha,” 113–15.
41. Paṭis-a ii.429 on Paṭis i.131: Sabbaṃ saṅkhatamasaṅkhataṃ anavasesaṃ jānātīti ettha
sabbanti jātivasena sabbadhammānaṃ nissesapariyādānam.
42. Paṭis-a ii.429.
43. On which, for example, see McClintock, Omniscience and the Rhetoric of Reason, and
Perrett, “Omniscience in Indian Philosophy of Religion.”
Omniscience and Immeasurability 47
can hold in his mind at once all dhammas in succession either, since knowables
are infinite. Further, one cannot say he knows everything that it is important to
know through direct perception, but then infers the rest, since inferential knowl
edge is accompanied by doubt, unlike the Buddha’s knowledge.44 But in the end,
he says, these speculations must be set aside—they are, “irrelevant” (akāraṇam)
and can only lead to “madness and distress.” The “ken of buddhas,” he avers, was
mentioned by the Buddha himself as included among those matters that are “in-
conceivable” and thus “maddening.”45 Dhammapāla sets aside the logical and
epistemological tangles by asserting that what it means that the Buddha was om-
niscient is that “whatever the Buddha wanted to know either partially or wholly,
he came to know it directly with no obstruction.”46 He had merely to attend to
something to perceive it directly and know it fully, and this could apply to all
past, present, and future phenomena.
For his part, I think Buddhaghosa is at his most subtle on the matter of omnis-
cience in his commentary on another place in the Paṭisambhidāmagga, where the
idea of “Buddha” is defined in terms of omniscience. The canonical text begins a
discussion of the term “Buddha” in this way:
44. As quoted by Ñāṇamoli, trans., The Path of Purification, 772–77, n. 7; see also Jaini, “On
the Sarvajñatva (Omniscience) of Mahāvīra and the Buddha,” 113–15, and Endo, Buddha in
Theravada Buddhism, 72–73.
45. Here he cites A ii.80: “Monks, the range of buddhas is inconceivable, not to be conceived,
and pondering it, one becomes mad or distressed” (bhikkhave, buddhavisayo acinteyyo, na
cintetabbo; cintento ummādassa vighātassa bhāgī assa).
46. ItiA i.141: yaṃkiñci bhagavatā ñātuṃ icchitaṃ sakalamekadeso vā, tattha appaṭihatavuttitāya
paccakkhato ñāṇaṃ pavattati.
47. Paṭis i.174; this is also in Mahāniddesa (ii.457) and the Cūlaniddesa; and Pj I.14: Buddhoti yo
so bhagavā sayambhū anācariyako pubbe ananussutesu dhammesu sāmaṃ saccāni abhisambujjhi,
tattha ca sabbaññutaṃ pāpuṇi, balesu ca vasībhāvaṃ. Buddhoti kenaṭṭhena buddho? Bujjhitā
saccānīti— buddho. Bodhetā pajāyāti— buddho. Sabbaññutāya buddho. Sabbadassāvitāya
buddho. Anaññaneyyatāya buddho. Vikasitāya buddho.
48 Build ing Blo cks for an In t er pretat ive Pro gr a m
The commentary on this suggests that the first sentence is the sense of “Buddha”
arrived at through meaning—that these features of the Buddha, including om-
niscience, are denoted by the word “awakened.” The second part is an elabora-
tion arrived at through phrasing or form, where the sounds present in the word
“Buddha” connote additional or implicit meanings. (We explore the exeget-
ical use of the ideas of meaning [attha] and phrasing [byañjana] in the next
chapter.) I wish in particular to draw the reader’s notice to what happens when
Buddhaghosa glosses these lines:
Here, just as it is said in the world that someone has “understood” because of
“understanding,” this is the case too for one who is Awakened (“Buddha”),
who has discovered the Truths. Just as a leaf-drying wind is called “leaf-
drying,” so too “awakened” means waking beings up. Awakened because
of knowing all things: “awakened” is said because of a wisdom capable of
discovering all things. Awakened because of seeing all things: “awakened”
is said because of a wisdom capable of knowing all things. Awakened be-
cause of not being able to be guided by another: “awakened” is said because
of being awakened only by himself, not woken up by another. Awakened
because of expanding: “awakened” is said in the sense of expanding like a
lotus blossoming with many qualities.48
In ordinary speech in English too we often speak in the past participle when
we are referring to ongoing activities: of students who are understanding we
can say that they have understood; a spouse going to the store has gone to the
store. So too, though “Buddha” is the past participle of the verb “awaken,”
this title also refers to an ongoing process as though it were the present par-
ticiple. Conceptually, this is highly significant: the Buddha’s awakening is still
occurring: he is Awakened and Awakening. Furthermore, indicated in the word
“Buddha” is a capacity for awakening others, for knowing all things, and for
seeing all things. His omniscience is a potential to know and see all things; it is
not that he achieved an encyclopedic knowledge of everything there is on the
48. Paṭis-a. ii. 485: Ettha ca yathā loke avagantā avagatoti vuccati, evaṃ bujjhitā saccānīti buddho.
Yathā paṇṇasosā vātā paṇṇasusāti vuccanti, evaṃ bodhetā pajāyāti buddho. Sabbaññutāya
buddhoti sabbadhammabujjhanasamatthāya buddhiyā buddhoti vuttaṃ hoti. Sabbadassāvitāya
buddhoti sabbadhammabodhanasamatthāya buddhiyā buddhoti vuttaṃ hoti. Anaññaneyyatāya
buddhoti aññena abodhito sayameva buddhattā buddhoti vuttaṃ hoti. Vikasitāya buddhoti
nānāguṇavikasanato padumamiva vikasanaṭṭhena buddhoti vuttaṃ hoti. This exact passage is
also in Pj I.15, where it is a commentary on what “Buddha” means when taking refuge in the
Buddha, the Dhamma, and the Saṅgha. In the Paṭisambhidāmagga it is in a larger discussion
on meditations on the breath.
Omniscience and Immeasurability 49
night of awakening; rather he has a capacity to know and see that allows him to
discover and teach all things in an ongoing process of awakening. The image of
the lotus blossoming from a tiny bud is quite apt here: the Buddha’s qualities
expand or unfold over time; we can say that his capacity to know and see all
things is ever unfolding.
This understanding of omniscience is vital for Buddhaghosa’s interpretation
of Buddha’s words as the unfolding of the Buddha’s unobstructed knowing and
seeing. The Pali commentators approached the Buddha’s omniscience not so much
through a formal definition of it in epistemological terms, but rather through
interpreting how the Buddha’s words express the unobstructed and expanding
nature of his knowledge. Implicit in Buddhaghosa’s theory of texts and evident
in his actual practices is the idea that interpretive practice is itself an exploration
of the case-by-case workings of the Buddha’s omniscience. The precise ways scrip-
ture expresses these workings is a matter for interpretative study of the different
genres, contexts, and purposes in which and to which he spoke. We shall see in the
chapters that follow that Buddhaghosa’s most sustained treatment of the Buddha’s
omniscience and the immeasurability of his words is in his introductory sections
to each of the three piṭakas, where he examines how the Buddha’s words reveal his
omniscient mind. First, the Brahmajāla Sutta (the first sutta of the first book of
the Suttanta and thus the occasion of Buddhaghosa’s introductory remarks), for
example, is interpreted by Buddhaghosa as revealing the extent of his knowledge of
particular beings. Second, the Atthasālinī, which opens with describing the nature
of the Abhidhamma in general, offers an expansive account of the Buddha’s “ocean”
of omniscient knowledge; in Buddhaghosa’s reading, Abhidhamma is, in my terms,
analysis all the way down. And, third, the Vinaya commentary sees the Buddha’s
unfolding knowledge of past, present, and future as requisite to interpreting this
genre. But first we must do further work on how Buddhaghosa generally under-
stood genres—which for him mostly centered on the idea of piṭaka—and the kinds
of study they make possible.
An “Ocean of Methods”:
Piṭakas as Practices of Learning
As I have already suggested, Buddhaghosa is explicit about the simultaneity of
the tipiṭaka conceived both as a quantifiable collection of texts and a means of
experiencing the Buddha’s omniscient wisdom. Here we may explore further ways
in which he develops this idea by considering the various ways he describes what
piṭakas are. First, he defines piṭaka as both “basket” of the sort one can use to carry
something, and as “an area of expertise” or “learning” (pariyatti) in which one can
50 Build ing Blo cks for an In t er pretat ive Pro gr a m
49. As 20; Sv i.18; Sp i.20: “People learned about the meaning of ‘piṭaka’ refer to piṭaka in the
sense of an area of expertise and basket” (Piṭakaṃ piṭakatthavidū pariyattibbhājanatthato āhu).
Buddhaghosa also refers to piṭakas as modes of instruction (pariyāya), that is, the distinctive
kinds of discourse we find in the jātaka tales, certain of the suttas, and the Abhidhamma (As
63; Sv iii.883).
50. Vism 442 (XIV.28): pariyatti nāma buddhavacanassa pariyāpuṇanam.
51. Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory: Discourse and the Surplus of Meaning, 32.
52. As 21–22; Sp i.22; Sv i.19: Tathā hi—vinayapiṭake visesena adhisīlasikkhā vuttā, suttantapiṭake
adhicittasikkhā, abhidhammapiṭake adhipaññāsikkhā. Vinayapiṭake ca vītikkamappahānaṃ,
kilesānaṃ vītikkamapaṭipakkhattā sīlassa. Suttantapiṭake pariyuṭṭhānappahānaṃ, pariyuṭṭh
ānapaṭipakkhattā samādhissa. Abhidhammapiṭake anusayappahānaṃ, anusayapaṭipakkhattā
paññāya.
Omniscience and Immeasurability 51
the fourfold depth that it is possible to acquire in each. For each piṭaka a learner
can become deeply immersed in the Dhamma, the meaning (attha), the teaching
(desanā), and the comprehension (paṭivedha). These are all deep because it is
difficult for persons of little intelligence to gain a footing in them “like a hare
(scrambling about) in the great ocean.”53
Buddhaghosa offers two different options for how each of these depths may
be understood, both of which are instructive in their particular ways. In the first
option, dhamma means the scripture (tanti), attha refers to the meaning of that
text, desanā is the teaching of the scripture that one has fixed in the mind, and
paṭivedha means full and correct understanding of the scripture and the meaning
of the scripture.54 In the second option, dhamma is taken to be cause (hetu), in
that “the analysis of a dhamma is knowledge of a cause”;55 to know what causes
a phenomenon is to know what that phenomenon is. The attha is the “effect” of
the cause: “the analysis of the meaning is the knowledge of the effect of a cause .”56
(It should not go unnoticed that these two forms of analysis are two of the four
kinds of analysis [paṭisambhidā] we considered earlier; here piṭaka as depth in
learning is defined as analysis in these two very specific senses.) Desanā in this
second option is verbally making the dhamma known according to its nature, or
telling it in the correct order or in the reverse order, in brief or extensively, and so
on. And paṭivedha, comprehension, refers here to realization in either a worldly
or transcendent sense.57
To sum up, in the first option, practices of depth involve mastery of a text
(reciting it), grasping its meaning, being able to teach it, and being able to under-
stand it. This option is centered on the Dhamma as text, and the ways the textual
knowledge of the piṭakas is studied and taught. In the second option, depth of
learning involves analysis of cause and effect, teaching these, and the transcendent
comprehension or realization that comes with that. This option lifts off from the
text to describe practices of knowledge and insight that involve the application
of textual knowledge to experience. These two options are not mutually exclusive
possibilities for what learning means, but rather, they are shifts of emphasis from
textual knowledge to its application to experience. All of these practices of anal-
ysis are highly generative, involving disciplined work to develop understanding
and knowledge.
Buddhaghosa also describes three kinds of expertise or learning: that of a
person catching a snake, that of a person seeking escape (from saṃsāra), and that
of the treasurer.58 The person who catches a snake by the body or tail end and
gets bitten by it is like foolish people who get hold of the Dhamma and learn it
without examining it. And “having learned the Dhamma without investigating
its meaning through understanding the teachings, they cannot gain insight
into a meaning that is not investigated for they have only learned the teaching
for the purpose of their anger and to be free of criticism.”59 The Dhamma may
turn around and bite them back. He praises instead both the person who seeks
Dhamma for escaping saṃsāra, and the “treasurer” who, having attained release,
acquires the Dhamma in order to secure its transmission for future generations.
What is evident from the foregoing is that scriptural texts are not merely books
or recitations, but are generative practices of teaching and learning embedded
in a larger intellectual, disciplinary, and soteriological culture. The piṭakas are
conceived as moral and disciplinary practices (trainings and avoidances); they
involve depth of various sorts concerning the text, meaning, pedagogy, and com-
prehension, focusing on either the text or the application of the text to life. And
normative judgments may be made about how such learning is handled.
Perhaps the most significant description of the idea of the piṭakas is that they
are specific types of “methods” (naya). In the Atthasālinī, Buddhaghosa develops
an elaborate metaphor of the three piṭakas as “an ocean of methods.”60 (See
Appendix C for a translation of the whole section.) The ocean is for Buddhaghosa
a favorite image of vastness and immeasurability, ideas that are, as we have seen,
closely linked to both buddhavacana and the Buddha’s omniscient ken.61 His
claim about the tipiṭaka as “an ocean of methods” is located in an extended meta-
phor that posits four oceans: the ocean of saṃsāra, the ocean of water, the ocean
of methods, and the ocean of knowledge.62 Births in saṃsāra are beginningless,
having no known starting place, and are in this sense oceanic. And the “waters
of the great ocean having a depth of 84,000 yojanas, cannot be measured with a
hundred, a thousand, a hundred thousand measuring cups” and so are, in effect,
“incalculable and immeasurable.”63 The “ocean of method”—the tipiṭaka, the
buddhavacana—is an ocean in that “endless joy and happiness arise for sons of
good families possessing faith, abounding in serene clarity, and whose knowledge
is excellent, who reflect on two of the scriptures.”64 And the “ocean of knowledge”
is of course the Buddha’s omniscience.
In each of these cases, the ocean metaphor works to convey the experience
of the one beholding it: the great ocean is in fact not infinite nor is it (at least in
theory) immeasurable; in fact, the ocean is thought to be 84,000 yojanas deep.
But as one stands before it holding a measuring cup, one finds it “incalculable
and immeasurable.” So too is an understanding of our experience in saṃsāra: as
we survey it, its beginning is entirely unknown to us. Similarly, the ocean of the
piṭaka methods when pondered by believing and knowledgeable students of
buddhavacana will evoke an experience of their endlessness. And the Buddha’s
omniscience was realized by him after sitting on the throne of awakening for
seven days, whereupon “he rose from it and stood gazing at the throne with un-
blinking eyes for [another] seven days, thinking, ‘on this throne I penetrated the
knowledge of omniscience.’ ”65
Buddhaghosa is chiefly interested here in the ocean of methods, since the point
of this discussion is to introduce the piṭakas, and specifically the Abhidhamma (as
61. The trope comparing a text or body of knowledge to an ocean for its vast endlessness is
found widely in Indic śāstric and literary traditions, as for example, the Nāṭyaśāstra VI.7, which
likens the bodies of knowledge about drama to oceans. Medieval texts are often called sāgaras,
oceans, such as Kathāsaritsāgara and the Dānasāgara. I have already mentioned the similarities
with this imagery for infinite textuality, outside of India, in Meister Eckhart and Ibn ‘Arabi.
62. As 10: saṃsārasāgaro, jalasāgaro, nayasāgaro, ñāṇasāgaroti.
63. As 11: So caturāsītiyojanasahassagambhīro. Tattha udakassa āḷhakasatehi vā āḷhakasahassehi
vā āḷhakasatasahassehi vā pamāṇaṃ nāma natthi. Atha kho asaṅkhyeyyo appameyyo
mahāudakakkhandhotveva saṅkhyaṃ gacchati.
64. As 11: dvepi hi tantiyo paccavekkhantānaṃ saddhāsampannānaṃ pasādabahulānaṃ
ñāṇuttarānaṃ kulaputtānaṃ anantaṃ pītisomanassaṃ uppajjati.
65. As 12–13: Tato tamhā pallaṅkā vuṭṭhāya ‘imasmiṃ vata me pallaṅke sabbaññutaññāṇaṃ
paṭividdha’nti animisehi cakkhūhi sattāhaṃ pallaṅkaṃ olokento aṭṭhāsi.
54 Build ing Blo cks for an In t er pretat ive Pro gr a m
While traveling by ship he sat on the upper deck and, gazing at the great
ocean, realized that he could see neither the far shore nor the near shore.
He saw only the great ocean covered with foam from the fast-breaking
waves like a silver cloth spread out and strewn with jasmine blossoms. He
began to wonder which is more powerful: the speeding waves of the great
ocean or the basis of the method in the entire Paṭṭhāna with its twenty-
four divisions. He knew that the great ocean is bordered by the great earth
below, by the sky above, by the ring of mountains on one side, and by
shores on the other; yet a border to the entire Paṭṭhāna cannot be known.
And so the abstruse and subtle Dhamma appears as more powerful by
one so considering. Even while seated there he was overcome with joy,
increased his insight, destroyed the defilements, and attained the highest
fruition which is arhatship.68
the Great Brahmā, able to suffuse the thirty thousand thousandfold world systems
with light became like a firefly at sunrise.”69 And the Paṭṭhāna is, Buddhaghosa
asserts, the only text where the Buddha’s omniscience can begin to find room,
just like the great leviathan Timirapiṅgala can find room only in the great ocean
84,000 yojanas in depth.70 These spatial images—the light extending in every di-
rection in the cosmos and the vast fish needing the (nearly) unfathomable depths
of the ocean to swim—reveal the text, and the Buddha’s omniscience it somehow
conveys—as never finally contained. We earlier considered the temporal aspects
of the same basic puzzle here explored spatially—how can a week’s period of om-
niscient contemplation or three months’ worth of teaching the Abhidhamma
methods somehow convey the immeasurable?
To return to the extended metaphor of the oceans, we see that contemplation
of the textual method of the Abhidhamma thus leads inexorably to the fourth
ocean, the “ocean of knowledge,” which is the Buddha’s omniscience, and this
ocean can be known (fully) “only by the knowledge of omniscience.”71 From the
standpoint of his ken alone are the others fully knowable. From here Buddhaghosa
goes into several pages painting a fantastic picture of the events during the four
weeks of the Buddha’s awakening, including the miracles performed and the rays
of light emitted by his body that gave vivid expression to his grasp of the “abstruse
and subtle Dhamma.”72 We have already considered how this knowledge, “endless
and immeasurable” when “thought out in the mind” in the fourth week of awak-
ening, came to be eventually granted to Sāriputta in the “gift of the method”
whereby we come to have the Abhidhamma.
We thus see in a general way that it is through the methods of textual practice
that engagement with scripture becomes immeasurable (the details of how they
do this remain to be worked out). The idea of method (naya) is fundamental
to the entire Pali commentarial project, and the term had wider resonance
Conclusions
We have seen that Buddhaghosa interpreted scriptural texts as the product of a
unique ken, the omniscient ken of buddhas. Omniscience, however, is best seen in
practice, as an exercise, rather than as a collection of stock knowledge such as an
encyclopedia holding all the facts of the world. Instead, what it is for the Buddha
to exercise his omniscience is to advert his attention to know a thing “unob-
structed” by any ignorance that could impede understanding. The Dhamma itself
is the infinite workings of experience, and the ability to follow these workings, all
the way through, is precisely what is grasped by the mind of all buddhas in their
attainment of supreme awakening.
In Buddhaghosa we get the interesting (and overlooked) move of considering
what the entailments of the Buddha’s omniscience means for being a Buddhist.
He sees Buddhist practice as tasked not with coming up with a formal definition
of the Buddha’s omniscience, but rather as exploring how Buddhist thinkers live
in relationship to it, by practicing and enacting its methods. Texts and the in-
terpretative practice engaging them permit one, in a limited way, to engage the
workings of this extraordinary omniscient activity that is the Dhamma and the
Buddha at once.
Scripture in this picture must be something quite specific and directly
authenticated as the words of the Buddha, for it is only through what the
Buddha taught that we (as unawakened persons) might glimpse the immeas-
urable workings of this mind and the Dhamma that it knows. Thus the First
Council, in its codification of a “canon,” signals a complete and knowable body
of buddhavacana, contained in books and competent masters. But as important
as it might be to see this collected material as complete or closed in these ways,
it is also crucial that the books or the recitations of scripture cannot fully con-
tain or exhaust the immeasurability of the teachings. We thus find a number of
practices named as the generative exercises that describe the work the piṭakas do
in the world and the practices that they entail for students of them. Some of the
main ones I have identified here are learning (pariyatti), analysis (paṭisambhidā),
and methods (naya), though tracing out the distinctive modes of knowledge that
specific discourses and genres make possible is the task of the following chapters.
The encounter with texts that Buddhaghosa is imagining and constructing is also
shaped by richly metaphorical conceptions of oceanic depth, cosmic spectacle,
and above all, a fabulous and astonishing Buddha.
To sum up, we may draw back and point to the specific ways that Buddhaghosa’s
enterprise shares some of the features of scholasticism that José Cabezón has
identified in his useful development of this term as a comparative category.76
Cabezón’s work helps us to see certain patterns and features of commentarial dis-
course and how they are related to one another. The traits of scholasticism include
notions of the “completeness and compactness” of the scriptural canon together
77. Buddhaghosa says explicitly that the dhamma taught by the Buddha was complete (kevala),
entire (sakala) (Sv i.177; Ps ii.20).
2
Scripture, Commentary,
and Exegetical Distinctions
Who is there able to understand in every way the words of
the Bhagavan, skilled in many methods, originating for var-
ious kinds of dispositions, perfect in meaning and phrasing,
possessing various marvels, deep in penetrating the teaching
of the meaning of the Dhamma, suitable for all beings each in
their own language as it enters their own ears?1
It indicates meaning classified into meaning for oneself and meaning for
others, et cetera. It is well-spoken in that the meanings are spoken in ac-
cordance with the inclinations of those being taught right here. It flows
is said [to indicate] that it bears fruit in meaning, like crops. It yields is
said [to indicate] that it discharges as a cow does milk. . . . And there is
the sharing in common of a sutta. And just as a thread is a measure for
carpenters, in this way [a thread/sutta] is for the wise. And just as flowers
strung by a thread do not scatter and disperse, so too by it, meanings are
gathered.4
This names as an important quality of the suttas that they speak to the people
in them according to their disposition and needs and that suttas speak directly
to self and to others. The idea that a sutta contains meaning for both self and
other is, as we explore in chapter 3, important in that one feature that interested
Buddhaghosa about Suttanta is the way a sutta speaks simultaneously to its orig-
inal audience and to subsequent readers quite distant from it. The passage also
indicates the fecundity of Suttanta knowledge in that it grows meaning like crops
and nourishes people like a cow her calf. The carpenter’s measuring line is also
notable: it measures or probes the depth of something.
The word “Abhidhamma” is parsed according to the possibilities for its prefix,
abhi, attached to dhamma, which here refers to the phenomena described in this
genre. Here “the word ‘abhi’ is shown to refer to how [the dhammas] can be grown,
characterized, honored, defined, and [seen as] surpassing.”5 Dhammas describe
experiences like loving-kindness (according to his example) that, when cultivated,
grow and expand one’s awareness; he cites a passage from the Dhammasaṅgaṇī,
the first book of the Abhidhamma, where loving-kindness practices cause one’s
awareness to “pervade” the directions.6 That abhi can also have the sense of
4. As 19; Sp i.19; Sv i.17: Tañhi attatthaparatthādibhede atthe sūceti. Suvuttā cettha atthā
veneyyajjhāsayānulomena vuttattā. Savati cetaṃ atthe, sassamiva phalaṃ, pasavatīti vuttaṃ
hoti. Sūdati cetaṃ, dhenu viya khīraṃ, paggharatīti vuttaṃ hoti. . . . Suttasabhāgañcetaṃ. Yathā
hi tacchakānaṃ suttaṃ pamāṇaṃ hoti evametampi viññūnaṃ. Yathā ca suttena saṅgahitāni
pupphāni na vikiriyanti na viddhaṃsiyanti evametena saṅgahitā atthā. Like most of these
definitions of genres, meaning is developed through niruttis, here deploying words starting
with sounds similar to “su” in sutta: sūceti, suvuttā, savati, sūdati. See Appendix C for the whole
passage.
5. As 19; Sp i.20; Sv i.17: Ayañhi abhisaddo vuḍḍhilakkhaṇapūjitaparicchinnādhikesu dissati.
6. As 19; Sp i.20; Sv i.17.
Scripture, Commentary, and Exegetical Distinctions 63
7. As 19; Sp i.20; Sv i.17: “[Dhammas are] surpassing in the sense of such passages as ‘because of
extraordinary beauty’ ” (Abhikkantena vaṇṇenā’’tiādīsu adhike).
8. As 2: Suttantañhi patvā pañcakkhandhā ekadeseneva vibhattā, na nippadesena.
9. As 2: suttantabhājanīyaabhidhammabhājanīyapañhapucchakanayānaṃ vasena nippadesato
vibhattā.
10. As 2: Evaṃ dhammātirekadhammavisesaṭṭhena abhidhammoti veditabbo.
11. This paragraph discusses this set of distinctions and how Buddhaghosa glosses them: etāni
hi tīṇi piṭakāni yathākkamaṃ āṇā vohāra paramatthadesanā yathāparādha-yathānuloma-
yathādhammasāsanāni, saṃvarāsaṃvaradiṭṭhiviniveṭhanāmarūpaparicchedakathāti ca
vuccanti (As 21; Sp i.21; Sv i.19).
12. As 21; Sp i.21; Sv i.19: anekajjhāsayānusayacariyādhimuttikā sattā.
13. As 21; Sp i.21; Sv i.19: dhammapuñjamatte ‘ahaṃ mamā’ti saññino sattā yathādhammaṃ
ettha sāsitāti yathādhammasāsananti vuccati.
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explicit exegetical principle.14 Finally, Vinaya is a teaching about the kinds of res
traint (concerning monastic precepts), Suttanta is unraveling views (in treating
the sixty-two views that open the first sutta in the collection), and Abhidhamma
is about differentiating the processes of name and form (nāmarūpa).15 These
distinctions indicate different kinds of content and purposes for each of the
piṭakas, and will be useful for recognizing the methods Buddhaghosa deploys to
interpret particular passages.
Conceptions of Commentary
and Vibhajjavāda Analysis
Buddhaghosa sees commentary as a method of analysis that is generative and
expansive. As we have seen and as other scholars have noted, commentarial ex-
egesis began in the canon, sometimes by the Buddha himself. Even in the suttas
we have “analytical exposition” (vibhaṅga) that shows the Buddha providing a
detailed drawing out of analytical meaning from shorter summary texts (such
as the Mahākammavibhaṅga Sutta).16 Certain disciples were known for their
capacities in exposition, such as Sāriputta (who is, as we have seen, associated
with Abhidhamma analysis), Mahākaccana (renowned for expatiating in de-
tail what the Buddha said in brief ), and Mahākoṭṭḥita (second to the Buddha
in analysis, paṭisambhidā).17 The Saṅgīti Sutta contains both a catechism list
of enumerated topics and a detailed exegesis of those topics as expounded by
Sāriputta. The Abhidhamma and the Vinaya also have vibhaṅga books, though
the kind of material that constitutes analytical drawing out varies significantly
between them. In the Vinaya, vibhaṅga refers to narrative commentarial exegesis
in which the monastic rules are embedded (in its Suttavibhaṅga). The second
book of the Abhidhamma is called Vibhaṅga, which is a quite formal terminolog-
ical exposition rather than narrative. Another category of commentary is niddesa,
14. As discussed in Netti 24–25, for example, where the Buddha is said to teach people according
to their temperaments, and his teachings are interpretable in accordance to the audience or the
people whom the teaching is describing (see Bond, In the Buddha’s Words, 82, 85).
15. See fn 11: saṃvarāsaṃvaradiṭṭhiviniveṭhanāmarūpaparicchedakathāti ca vuccanti (As 21; Sp
i.21; Sv i.19).
16. The “Great Exposition on Kamma” (M iii.207–15) can be contrasted with the “Short
Exposition on Kamma” immediately preceding it in the Majjhima. Law argues that the first is
“the Sutta basis of Abhidhamma exposition of the Sikkhāpadavibhaṅga” in the second book of
the Abhidhamma (Law, Buddhaghosa, 57). Anālayo, The Dawn of Abhidharma, 79–86, has a
useful account of the various forms of canonical commentary.
17. Law, Buddhaghosa, 57–58. See also Bond, The Word of the Buddha, 101–2.
Scripture, Commentary, and Exegetical Distinctions 65
18. Sv ii.567, for example. Vism 107: idaṃ . . . n’eva pāḷiyaṃ na aṭṭhakathāyaṃ āgataṃ kevalaṃ
ācariyamatānusārena vuttaṃ.
19. Vibh-a 388–89: ‘paripucchā’ nāma aṭṭhakathā. Uggahitapāḷiyā atthaṃ kathentassa hi
paṭisambhidā visadā honti.
20. Puggalapaññati commentary called the Pañcappakaraṇaṭṭhakathā, 172, and discussed in
Law, Buddhaghosa, 92–94.
21. Bond, The Word of the Buddha, 150. An instance of Buddhaghosa saying explicitly what a
commentary on meaning involves occurs at Ps ii.203, where Buddhaghosa says that the Buddha
“teaches with meaning” not in matters of glossing terms like “rice,” “meal,” “woman,” or “man,”
but rather when teaching on subjects like the four foundations of mindfulness.
66 Build ing Blo cks for an In t er pretat ive Pro gr a m
place according to ordinary word definitions (“place” means village, town, city, or
country, for example). Its “meaning commentary” defines this line in terms of its
connection to the Buddhist Dhamma (“place” means where the fourfold com-
munity [of monks, nuns, laymen, and laywomen] are present, where giving can
be meritorious, where the sāsana is present, et cetera).22 This twofold hermeneu-
tical device is situated within a larger approach to meaning and definition, Bond
argues persuasively (sharing the view of Bhikkhu Ñāṇamoli), that resists essen-
tialist definitions in favor of a highly contextual approach to defining terms and
within a general aim of stating their significance in relationship to the Buddhist
teaching as a whole.23
Buddhaghosa refers also to the commentaries and the Visuddhimagga as
“expositions” (vinicchaya).24 “Vinicchaya” means a type of exposition based on
a certain style of analytical questioning. In the Visuddhimagga this often takes
the form of a “set of questions” (pañhākamma), which lists questions that struc-
ture exegesis. As his commentary answers each question it expands the meaning
(much as one expands meaning from a mātikā). Bond has shown that word com-
mentary is distinguished from the questioning and analytic commentarial prac-
tice of vinicchaya.
Buddhaghosa tells us in the Samantapāsādikā that his editorial hand is
conservative—he is merely transmitting commentaries to teach the Vinaya in
keeping with the methods of the “ancient teachers,” which are the methods of
the perfectly awakened buddhas.25 But he also acknowledges that he “corrected
scribal errors.”26 Jayawickrama has suggested that this might be a generous way
of attributing any “mistaken” interpretations of his predecessors to clerical
22. Pj I 132; Bond, The Word of the Buddha, 146–52. Another example is As 124.
23. Bond, The Word of the Buddha, 148–52; Ñāṇamoli, “Translators Introduction” to The
Guide, vii–x.
24. Sp i.1 and the Visuddhimagga nigamana.
25. Sp i.1: He expounds the Vinaya, “placing reliance on what conforms to the ancient teachers.
The Vinaya is expounded with pleasure with the methods [practiced by] the mind that is the
excellent lineage of Perfectly Awakened buddhas, (according to) the assembly of teachers, who
are pure of the taints washed away from the waters of knowledge, whose analyses of knowl
edge are purified, who are skilled in the commentary on the Good Dhamma, who have no
equal in their attainment of ascetic practice, and who are like banners of the Mahāvihāra”
(nissāya pubbācariyānubhāvaṃ. Kāmañca pubbācariyāsabhehi; Ñāṇambuniddhotamalāsavehi;
Visuddhavijjāpaṭisambhidehi; Saddhammasaṃvaṇṇanakovidehi; Sallekhiye nosulabhūpamehi;
Mahāvihārassa dhajūpamehi; Saṃvaṇṇitoyaṃ vinayo nayehi; Cittehi sambuddhavaranvayehi).
26. Sp i.2: vajjayitvāna pamādalekhaṃ
Scripture, Commentary, and Exegetical Distinctions 67
mistakes.27 Buddhaghosa says that in addition to translating the Sinhala texts into
Pali he condensed certain passages, while not leaving out anything in keeping
with scripture.28 He identifies the commentaries he is preserving as adhering to
the sectarian affiliation “Mahāvihāra” (the “Great Monastery”) preserved in Sri
Lanka, and his interpretations in the Visuddhimagga are in keeping with the
“Vibhajjavādins” (the “Analysts”).29
Buddhaghosa’s identification with the Vibhajjavādins is instructive for dis-
cerning the intellectual and scholarly values he affirms. In commenting on a finer
point of interpreting dependent origination, he describes the following series of
exegetical practices. This passage is one of the very few places he describes general
criteria for commentarial practice in expanding meaning.
The commentary on the meaning of this should be done by one who stays
within the circle of the Vibhajjavādins, does not misrepresent the teachers,
does not launch into his own view, does not quarrel with the views of
others, does not deviate from the Sutta, who stays in accordance with
the Vinaya, considers the great authorities (mahāpadesa), illuminates the
Dhamma, takes up the meaning and then returns again to that meaning by
explaining it with different methods (pariyāya).30
This is not a scholarly style championing one’s own positions or engaging in philo-
sophical disputation; it is instead cast as ever faithful to scripture and the teachers
in preference to one’s own view. It respects the “great authorities” (mahāpadesa),
which refer to the Buddha, a community of distinguished elders, a group of
learned elders, and a single learned elder, insofar as the latter three conform to the
Suttanta and the Vinaya. (This refers to a passage on scriptural authority in the
Dīgha.31) What I think is most illuminating in this passage is not Buddhaghosa’s
stated traditionalist approach to texts, but rather the explicit naming of the
27. Jayawickrama, The Inception of the Discipline, 96 n.11. See Endo, Studies in Pāli Commentarial
Literature, ch. 4, for a discussion of, and review of scholarship on, Buddhaghosa’s editorial
principles.
28. Sp i.2: tato ca bhāsantarameva hitvā;vitthāramaggañca samāsayitvā;vinicchayaṃ sabbamase
sayitvā;tantikkamaṃ kiñci avokkamitva.
29. Sp i.2; Vism 522.
30. Vism 522 and Vibh-a 130: tassā atthasaṃvaṇṇanaṃ karontena vibhajjavādimaṇḍalaṃ
otaritvā ācariye anabbhācikkhantena sakasamayaṃ avokkamantena parasamayaṃ anāyūhantena
suttaṃ appaṭibāhantena vinayaṃ anulomentena mahāpadese olokentena dhammaṃ dīpentena
atthaṃ saṅgāhentena tamevatthaṃ punarāvattetvā aparehipi pariyāyantarehi niddisantena.
31. D i.123–27.
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32. The Aṅguttara describes different ways of answering questions (categorically, by making
distinctions, by asking a counterquestion, or by setting aside the question). The method of
making distinctions is the “vibhajja” approach: vibhajjabyākaraṇīyaṃ pañhaṃ vibhajja
byākaroti (A i.197).
33. M ii.197, the Subha Sutta.
34. Gethin, “Was Buddhaghosa a Theravādin? Buddhist Identity in the Pali Commentaries
and Chronicles,” 15.
35. Prasad, “Theravāda and Vibhajjavāda: A Critical Study of Two Appellations,” 112. On
Vibhajjavāda as a sectarian name, see also Bareau, Boin-Webb, and Skilton, The Buddhist
Schools of the Small Vehicle, and Cousins, “On the Vibhajjavādins: The Mahiṃsāsaka,
Dhammaguttaka, Kassapiya and Tambapaṇṇiya branches of the ancient Theriyas,” 131–82.
Scripture, Commentary, and Exegetical Distinctions 69
methods of textual exegesis in relation to its practical purposes in ethical and so-
teriological development by drawing attention to the term “method of develop-
ment” (bhāvanānaya). This term, referring to the practical steps of changing and
cultivating experience, is one way the Visuddhimagga describes what it is doing.
The text is an account of the “method of development” consisting of defining
moral precepts (sīla), concentration practices (samādhi), and understanding
(paññā), structured as a sequential path. In certain cases, the textual exposition
itself constitutes the contemplative practices, as in, for example, a certain exer-
cise that involves identifying, defining, and analyzing the “elements.” As part
of a meditation exercise that involves attention to the experiences of earth, air,
wind, and fire (to help one loosen one’s attachment to food and the body), one
engages in the recitation of questions about the properties of these elements first
in brief, and then with more analytical and classificatory detail if necessary. This
text functions then as both commentarial exegesis and meditative practice.36
Another example would be the Recollections of the Buddha and the Dhamma,
which we have already had occasion to study, and which are both exegesis in the
commentary on the Vinaya (and elsewhere) and contemplative practices in the
Visuddhimagga (see Appendices A and B). Put another way, much meditative
practice is just the very analytic methods of textual practice aspired to by the
Analysts—that is, exploring phenomena “with different methods.” As Bond puts
it, the explanation of the meaning (aṭṭhakathā) and the method of development
(bhāvanānaya) are “related as two sides of a coin.”37
The aṭṭhakathās that Buddhaghosa handles developed many practices that
were shared by the formal exegetical system outlined in the Nettippakaraṇa and the
Peṭakopadesa, but the explicit influence of these two manuals on Buddhaghosa’s
works is not clearly evident. Perhaps the omission of their full exegetical system is
in keeping with the antiquity of the commentaries he was editing and his overall
adherence to them (the exegetical manuals likely postdate the codification of the
canon, and go unmentioned by Buddhaghosa in his account of the First Council).
We know of only one place where he quotes the Netti by name, and except for this
one instance he does not invoke and never uses the Netti’s commentarial category
of “hāra,” as such, which is one of the hallmarks of its system.38 At the same time
36. This is sketched out in Vism 351–52 (XI.39–45), where he describes this particular method
of development in brief and in detail.
37. Bond, The Word of the Buddha, 180.
38. This is Ps i.31: ettāvatā ca yvāyaṃ—‘‘Vuttamhi ekadhamme, ye dhammā ekalakkhaṇā
tena;Vuttā bhavanti sabbe, iti vutto lakkhaṇo hāro’’ti.—Evaṃ nettiyaṃ lakkhaṇo nāma hāro
vutto. This is cited in Ñāṇamoli, The Guide, x. The Visuddhimagga and Atthasālinī each
mention and apparently quote the Peṭakopadesa at Vism 141 and As 165, but the passages they
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many of the exegetical terms and techniques that the Netti and the Peṭaka for-
malize were also used in the aṭṭhakathās and the Visuddhimagga, and we can see
clearly that all of these texts drew from the same well.
To sum up this section, we have seen that Buddhaghosa deploys several
different terms for commentary, each with its own nuances. At the heart of his
project is his work as a self-identified Analyst (Vibhajjavādin) who does not
himself make claims but rather explores meaning by explaining it with various
methods. His description of the practices of the Vibhajjavādins is the closest we
get to a list of general criteria for exegesis—for what is to count as appropriate
expansion of the teachings. It is a conservative and traditional approach in many
ways—commentary is to be tethered to the “great authorities”—even as the de-
velopment of meaning through analysis was thought to be fecund, both intellec-
tually and for meditative practice.
The remainder of this chapter takes up particular distinctions claimed about
the Buddha’s words, which were then used as commentarial protocols: the
distinctions between speaking briefly or in detail, between meaning and phrasing,
conventional and absolute teachings, definitive and interpretable teachings, and
contextual and categorical teachings. While these distinctions are sometimes
thematized and treated in general terms in Buddhaghosa’s commentaries and the
Visuddhimagga, they are not grouped together and promoted as a generalized and
generalizable set of principles or rules for commentarial practice. Buddhaghosa’s
introductory sections discussed to this point are the most general and self-
reflexive that he gets about text and genre, and the distinctions discussed in what
follows are not outlined systematically in them. Rather they occur in the course
of commentarial discussion, in and through which we might consider what they
mean and what they suggest about commentarial practice. We learn about them
and how to use them by looking over his shoulder, as it were, in watching him
work. Richard Nance has noted a similar feature in the Vyākhyāyukti, an exe-
getical manual attributed to Vasubandhu. While this manual articulates formal
principles on occasion, according to Nance, “most of the text amounts to a se-
ries of examples.” Instead of general procedural instructions for commentary, the
Vyākhyāyukti, like Buddhaghosa’s work, suggests that commentarial practice is
cite are not been found in the Peṭaka (Ñāṇamoli, The Guide, xiii). On the other hand, Bond (In
the Buddha’s Words, 168–80) and Ñāṇamoli (The Guide, liii–liv) argue that the commentators
were greatly indebted to the Netti. Ñāṇamoli says that the Netti was the “scaffolding” of
the Visuddhimagga and the aṭṭhakathā, which then is taken down (and thus invisible) once
their structures were complete. De Silva, in contrast, argues (rightly, I think) that the Netti’s
method as a whole is not present until Dhammapāla’s work (Dīghanikāyaṭṭhakathāṭīkā
Līnatthavaṇṇanā, xliii).
Scripture, Commentary, and Exegetical Distinctions 71
learned through example and by “paying close attention to the shifting demands
made by particular texts and audiences—not by internalizing a set of interpretive
principles that could be applied across all texts and contexts.”39 Commentarial
principles are learned in the manner of an apprentice through the practice itself
and it is through practice and the discussion that emerges in that practice that we
find them.
narrative context.) The other main section of the Vinaya Piṭaka is the Khandhaka
(comprising the Mahāvagga and the Cullavagga), which is also rich in narrative
framing and detail. But a further contraction occurs in the final book of the
Vinaya corpus, the Parivāra, a question-and-answer type matrix or outline of the
whole Vinaya system.
Commentary is, of course, the expansion of texts, and thus it should not
surprise that the aṭṭhakathā puts creative and dynamic use to the notion of the
contraction and extension of texts. The Visuddhimagga deploys commentarial
practices of expansion, as mentioned earlier, including the technique of providing
a set of questions (pañhākamma), that structures its commentary on a subject; a
good example of this is Buddhaghosa’s treatment of the main topics of the text.
He says that the mere listing of sīla, samādhi, and paññā is “extremely brief ”
and “so in order to help everyone” he teaches each of these in detail with sets of
questions (pañhākamma).44 He then lists eight questions in the case of sīla (e.g.,
what is sīla? what are its benefits? how many kinds of it are there? Et cetera), that
become the seeds of the long, expansive answers that constitute the rest of his
chapter on the topic.
Buddhaghosa often refers to the Visuddhimagga as the extensive, detailed
account of the teachings. Often in the course of the aṭṭhakathās he says he is
treating a subject briefly in the aṭṭhakathā but the reader should refer to the
treatment of it in the Visuddhimagga so that he need not repeat himself.45 Thus
within the commentarial genre the categories of brief and extensive provide a way
in which he describes the distinctive contributions of the different kinds of work
attributed to him.
The distinction between brief and extensive is a site for considering the varied
expression of the “whole.” Very often when providing the contextual details of a
sutta—the where, when, why and by whom it was spoken—Buddhaghosa will
report that he is giving first the brief summary of the narrative and then will
follow with a fuller account. The “whole” account can be packed into a nutshell,
as it were, and then expanded through further narrative embellishment.46 This
provides a useful technique for dealing with the hermeneutical circle, of how
parts must be interpreted in reference to the whole, and vice versa: we get a brief
statement of the whole first, from which the parts that come to compose it may
be understood.
Buddhaghosa has intriguing things to say about how Abhidhamma fits into
this distinction about brief and detailed teachings in ways that resist a tendency
to see these as fixed qualities of texts or genres. In one place he claims, “every-
thing in the seven books of the Abhidhamma is a ‘brief ’ teaching, even the com-
plete Paṭṭhāna with its twenty four divisions.”47 Since much of the Abhidhamma
consists of matrices, this makes sense. On the other hand, Abhidhamma is itself
detailed exposition that can go on, as we have seen, immeasurably. To this point,
he suggests when explaining the myriad ways consciousness (viññāṇa) conditions
the complex of nāma-rūpa, that “when the method of conditions is to be shown
in detail one would have to cite the whole Paṭṭḥāna,”48 the seventh—and most
oceanic and expansive—of all books of the Abhidhamma. This remark suggests
that the Paṭṭhāna is the enactment of detailed expansion (and we come to see
just how huge and expansive the Paṭṭhāna is in chapter 4). I think that the way to
understand the possible discrepancy suggested here—is the Abhidhamma a brief
teaching or a detailed teaching?—is always to ask, relative to what? Abhidhamma
is, recall, a method. Sometimes it is a brief and potent mātikā making possible ex-
position that carries its topics and relations further. But it is also the very practice
of exposition in detail that expands the matrices. Relative to the whole Dhamma
that it “grows,” Abhidhamma is brief; but in its (particularly the Paṭṭhāna’s) ca-
pacity to explore conditionality and relationality, it is expanded and expansive.
47. Ps iii.200 (on M i.489, a sutta in which the Buddha says he can teach both in brief and
in detail): catuvīsatisamantapaṭṭhānampi hi sattapakaraṇe abhidhammapiṭake ca sabbaṃ
saṃkhittameva.
48. Vism 561 [XVII.201]: vitthārato pana tassa paccayanaye dassiyamāne sabbā pi Paṭṭhānakathā
vitthāretabbā hotī.
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That is, the use of the formal features of the language collectively called “phrasing”
allow for different possibilities for meaning to develop. The text also states that
the different forms of both meaning and phrasing allow for both closing off and
expanding meaning:
There the Bhagavan removes with letters and words, and expands with
phrasing and modes, and details with language and descriptions.54
This suggests that the letters and words close off meaning: when I say the word
“red” I remove blue, yellow, and so forth, to denote “red.” The qualities of the
“phrasing” and the “mode,” or register used, begin to open up connotative
possibilities with further implications: I can describe red variously as “scarlet
red” or “blood red,” which make finer distinctions and deliver a more precise im-
pact. Further opening up meaning by providing details, I can develop phonetic
features of the language (nirutti) and add more description by referring to the
“rosy bloom of her cheek” or the way he “flushed ruby red.” Nirutti, as we will see
later, often refers to the phonetic qualities of language and how they lead to ad-
ditional connotations. To get at this quality of the phrasing my rather pedestrian
examples in English pick up on the “r” sound in red to get “rosy” and “ruby,” a
kind of phonetic exercise to expand meaning that is very common in Pali inter-
pretation of the Buddha’s words. The description of the “bloom” suggests both
the rose and the cheek and thus opens up meaning in two directions; the sound
and sense of a “flush” of red add movement and perhaps emotion to the image.
We consider later how phrasing and meaning are connected in Pali
commentarial practice in Buddhaghosa’s work. For now, I wish to emphasize
that the Nettippakaraṇa’s formal discussion of these properties of meaning and
phrasing indicate one way that practitioners of the Pali commentarial tradition
put together the formal properties of scripture with the meaning they evoke.
I also wish to draw notice to the Netti’s claim about the qualities of phrasing being
“immeasurable”: there are innumerable ways to put ideas into language, and the
phrasings we use can help us develop meaning by closing off some possibilities
while opening up others. To return to the example the text itself gives, there are
endless ways to show the meaning of the Noble Truth of suffering—consider the
examples of sorrow and pain in the world and the ways we can evoke them in
choices of word and sound. We should also note that the idea of vyañjanā in
Sanskrit has the sense of implied or suggested meaning and comes to have great
currency in the literary traditions. The capacity of literary language to richly
suggest implicit meanings is a noted quality of the Buddha’s words, as it is, of
course, for the kāvya tradition theorized centuries later.
54. Netti 9: Tattha bhagavā akkharehi ca padehi ca ugghaṭeti byañjanehi ca ākārehi ca
vipañcayati, niruttīhi ca niddesehi ca vitthāreti. See Rhys Davids and Stede, The Pali Text Society’s
Pali-English Dictionary, under vipañcita for the grammatical use of ugghaṭanā, vipañcita, and
vitthāraṇā; see also Ñāṇamoli, The Guide, 19.
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Buddhaghosa deploys the same distinctions about meaning and phrasing that
we have just seen in the Netti. In explaining the passage we considered at some
length in the Introduction (see also Appendix A)—“He teaches a dhamma beau-
tiful in the beginning, beautiful in the middle, and beautiful in the end, with
meaning and phrasing; he makes known a religious life that is entirely perfect
and pure”—the Visuddhimagga defines “with meaning” and “with phrasing,”
with the same formulations we just saw in the Netti. “With meaning” is “putting
together word and sense via showing, making evident, opening up, distinguishing,
making clear, and denoting.”55 “With phrasing” concerns “excellence in syllables,
words, phrasing, mode, language, and description.”56 Buddhaghosa also says
that “with meaning” is about “depth in comprehension and depth in meaning,”
and involves a scope of [two of the four kinds of ] analysis (paṭisambhidā)—the
analyses of things (attha) and of knowledge (paṭibhāna); it inspires “joyful faith
in like-minded people because of being experienced by the wise, and it has deep
intent.”57 The emphasis on the meaning in the Buddha’s words is about the un-
derstanding and analysis they prompt, how the well-spoken words of the Buddha
create comprehension.
The phrasing of buddhavacana is also said to inspire “serene delight in or-
dinary people because of their faith,” and its “words are clear.”58 Phrasing refers
thus to the pleasing and clear qualities of the Buddha’s preaching. Elsewhere
Why? Because in this way the meaning is easy to grasp. For [when] the
scripture of the Buddha’s words is delivered in the Māgadha language
the only delay [in understanding it] for those who have acquired analysis
(paṭisambhidā) is the time it takes to reach their ears; for just when the ear
is struck the meaning arises in a hundred methods, a thousand methods.
But the scripture delivered in other languages must be learned, correcting
it again and again. And for the ordinary person even who studies a lot,
there is no acquiring [this] analysis.67
These definitions pick up on the sounds “a” and “ra” and “ha” in “araha” to gen-
erate possible meanings. We can follow Buddhaghosa further as he elaborates on
these words:
“Being aloof ” (āraka) means being established far and removed from all
kilesas, [that is] the condition of having destroyed the kilesas together with
their traces with the Path, and so [he is] “Araha” because of being aloof;
and by this Path these enemies that are the kilesas are destroyed (hatā),
and so he is Araha due to the condition of having destroyed (hatattā) his
enemies (arī). Now he is Araha also because of his condition of destroying
enemies, in that all enemies are destroyed, his having wielded with the
71. Attentive readers will notice the distant echo of the very first words of the Visuddhimagga
in this: sīle patiṭṭhāya, here slightly broken up but still present as sīlapathaviyaṃ patiṭṭhāya,
“standing firm on the ground of morality” (Vism 1). The pleasures of attending to the phrasing
of the words begin to reveal Buddhaghosa’s playful erudition with language, as well as the way
that meaning can referenced, modular fashion, from other contexts: the foundation of mo-
rality that begins the Visuddhimagga was initiated during (and should be understood in re-
lation to) the time when the Buddha stood firm on morality at the Bodhi Tree. I am grateful
to Charles Hallisey and his Fall 2016 “Readings in Pali Commentary” class for letting me join
their class to read this passage with them and share these observations.
72. Ārakā hi so sabbakilesehi suvidūravidūre ṭhito, maggena savāsanānaṃ kilesānaṃ
viddhaṃsitattāti ārakattā arahaṃ; te cānena kilesārayo maggena hatāti arīnaṃ hatattāpi
arahaṃ. Yañcetaṃ avijjābhavataṇhāmayanābhipuññādiabhisaṅkhārāraṃ jarāmaraṇanemi
āsavasamudayamayena akkhena vijjhitvā tibhavarathe samāyojitaṃ anādikālappavattaṃ
saṃsāracakkaṃ, tassānena bodhimaṇḍe vīriyapādehi sīlapathaviyaṃ patiṭṭhāya saddhāhatthena
kammakkhayakaraṃ ñāṇapharasuṃ gahetvā sabbe arā hatāti arānaṃ hatattāpi arahaṃ.
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74. The nirutti analyses of these epithets of the Buddha are worth considering next to the
example Kahrs gives of the Sanskrit exegesis by Abhinavagupta on the tantric deity Bhairava
(Kahrs, Indian Semantic Analysis, ch. 3). The name “Bhairava” communicates directly the
nature of this deity, since it is a name thought to be inherently significant; analysis consists of
drawing out the verbal roots heard in the phonemes of this name that establish the nature of
Bhairava as the absolute deity. Kahrs is right to note how this practice occurs within a larger
belief system and is an authorized discourse of power that enables “those who mastered it to
enforce or modify beliefs by encoding meaning into already existing terms” (62). An entire
metaphysic of the absolute deity is promoted as inherent in the name itself. I think that these
same processes are going on in Buddhaghosa’s treatment of the nine epithets of the Buddha.
75. Vism 213 (VII.69): buddhānussatim anuyutto . . . satthārā saṃvāsasaññam paṭilabhati. We
discuss this entire passage at greater length in chapter 5.
76. Lamotte, “Assessment of Textual Interpretation in Buddhism,” 13–14, and “La critique
d’interprétation das le bouddisme,” 342, 44.
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certain occasions Buddhaghosa suggests that the intent (adhippāya) of the text
should prevail over the phrasing,77 he nowhere suggests that as a general prin-
ciple meaning (attha) is more important than phrasing (byañjana). As Bond has
shown, “intent” in certain contexts is a matter of stating the “gist” of a word or
idea as part of the padavaṇṇanā; it is not the same as the “meaning” or the kind
of definitional work of the atthavaṇṇanā in specifying the meaning in relation to
the Dhamma.78 Lamotte gets closer to the Pali view when he discusses “the two-
fold perfection” repeated frequently (as we have seen), where the Good Dhamma
is “perfect in attha and byañjana.”79 The perfect coincidence of perfect meaning
and perfect phrasing in the unique speech of the Buddha does not make a clash
between them possible, whereby a commentator could appeal to the former in-
stead of the latter.
Lamotte cites an exchange in the canonical Pali Vinaya between the monk
Assaji and Sāriputta, where Assaji is new to the Dhamma and is not confident
about explaining it “in detail.” Sāriputta then urges: “tell me a little or a lot, but
tell me the meaning; [just give] me the meaning with its purport, why bother
with long phrasings?”80 As I read it, this request is not a general license to a
reader to give greater weight to the Buddha’s meaning over his phrasings, but
for Assaji to describe in brief something he would have difficulty relating in de-
tailed wording and illustration. Buddhaghosa does not pick up this passage and
discuss it at all; the instruction to Assaji does not become a general principle for
preaching or interpretation. It should also be said that Buddhaghosa is not above
accusing those of contesting views of being overly literal in their interpretations.
At one point he criticizes an alternate reading of an issue by saying “do not slander
the Bhagavan by seeking just the shelter of the phrasing; for the Buddha’s word
is deep and should be understood from the intent, having attended closely to the
teachers.”81 Here again, phrasing and meaning are not being opposed, but rather
the opponent is accused of doing a superficial and literal reading of a passage’s
phrasing that should be read deeply for its intent.
To sum up, we have seen that the Buddha’s meanings and phrasings are both “im-
measurable” and that the reader should consider both of these qualities of scripture
in a task of discovering infinity rather than closing down with totality. Moreover,
as suggested by the epigraph for this chapter, each one is “perfect” in itself as well as
related to the other: the formal and phonetic elements of a word or phrase deliver a
proliferation of meanings that advance the reader in his exploration of the Buddha’s
limitless knowledge and attainments. We have attended especially to nirutti analysis
among the different kinds of analyses, as nirutti is the most widely and explicitly
practiced. Drawing meaning from the phonemes in a Māgadha word of scripture
suggests that words themselves contain their meaning. In the example considered, an
entire buddhology can be heard in the sounds of the epithets given to the Buddha.
82. The idea of two truths appears to have begun with Nāgārjuna (Mūlamadhyamakakārikā
XXIV. 8–9), though the ways that it developed in the Sanskrit traditions differed from the role
it played for Buddhaghosa and Dhammapāla. As discussed by Kalupahana, it was Vasubandhu
who developed this distinction into a metaphysical claim about different realities, saṃvṛti-sat
and paramārtha-sat (Akb p. 334, as cited by Kalupahana, Nāgārjuna: The Philosophy of the
Middle Way, 332).
83. For example, S i.135 uses sammuti to describe our conventional name of “being” for a
collection of “aggregates” (like the name “chariot” for a certain collection of parts); Vin v.222
uses sammuti for the sense of “agreement” between monks in the context of formal legal
proceeding. Miln 3 uses sammuti contrasted with suti in a manner echoing the Sanskrit dis-
tinction of revealed or “heard” (śruti) as opposed to received or “remembered” (smṛti) lore.
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is defined as “the [noble] truth of the highest attainment.”84 When the Pali
commentarial tradition begins to pair sammuti and paramattha, it does so to
make a distinction about different kinds of teachings (desanā) or discourses
(kathā),85 rather than truth claims about reality. For reasons that will become
clear, it can be useful in this context to avoid the usual translations of paramattha
as “ultimate truth” or “absolute meaning,” which would seem to place this kind
of discourse at a higher level of truth, because this is not how Buddhaghosa takes
it. I prefer “furthest sense” or “furthest meaning,” which indicate that this kind of
language or teaching goes further than conventional discourse in making analytic
distinctions.
Buddhaghosa explains that the Buddha’s choice of which of two kinds of
teachings to give depends on the topic under discussion and the capacities of his
audience. When the Buddha uses such terms as “person, being, woman, man,
kshatriya, Brahmin, deva, and Mara,” he is using a “conventional teaching.” But
when he speaks in such language as “impermanence, suffering, no-self, aggregates,
elements, bases, and the foundations of mindfulness,” he is giving teachings in the
“furthest sense.”86 Words like “person,” “woman,” and “man” are readily under-
stood by most people, but “aggregates” and “elements” take a more specialized an-
alytic knowledge to grasp as they are further analytically reduced. The Buddha’s
choice of language also depends on whom he is addressing: “if someone, having
heard a conventional teaching, is able to attain distinction, having abandoned
delusion and comprehended the meaning, then [the Buddha] teaches a con-
ventional teaching.” So too for a teaching in the furthest sense.87 Both kinds of
Thī-a 216 uses sammuti in the sense of “agreement.” Vibh-a 164 uses sammuti to refer to the
common or customary term for an idea.
84. Mp iii.161; Spk i.238, 329; Ps v.59; Sv iii.1022: “he shows that nibbāna is the truth of the
highest attainment” (paramatthasaccaṃ nibbānaṃ dasseti). Kalupahana suggests that the
Buddha as we get him in the nikāyas was not interested in positing ultimate views or ulti-
mate reality, but rather spoke of ultimate fruits, consequences, and results (Kalupahana,
Nāgārjuna: The Philosophy of the Middle Way, 331–32).
85. Ps i.137; Mp i.94: “The teachings of the Lord Buddha are twofold: conventional teachings
and teachings in the furthest sense” (buddhassa bhagavato duvidhā desanā sammutidesanā,
paramatthadesanā cāti). Cf. Sv ii.382 and KvA 34: buddhānaṃ pana dve kathā sammutikathā
ca paramatthakathā ca.
86. Mp i.94–95; Ps i.137 (Cf. Spk ii.77; ItiA 82; KvA 34): Tattha ‘‘puggalo satto itthī puriso
khattiyo brāhmaṇo devo māro’’ti evarūpā sammutidesanā, ‘‘aniccaṃ dukkhaṃ anattā khandhā
dhātū āyatanāni satipaṭṭhānā’’ti evarūpā paramatthadesanā.
87. Mp i.94–95; Ps i.137 (ItiA 82): Tattha bhagavā ye sammutivasena desanaṃ sutvā atthaṃ
paṭivijjhitvā mohaṃ pahāya visesaṃ adhigantuṃ samatthā, tesaṃ sammutidesanaṃ deseti. Ye
pana paramatthavasena desanaṃ sutvā atthaṃ paṭivijjhitvā mohaṃ pahāya visesamadhigantuṃ
samatthā, tesaṃ paramatthadesanaṃ deseti.
Scripture, Commentary, and Exegetical Distinctions 87
language are therapeutic and can help people abandon delusion, but they need to
be deployed appropriately.
This pragmatic approach to terminology is refined further when Buddhaghosa
gives eight specific topics on which the Buddha reserved the use of conventional
terms: for illuminating (1) shame and apprehension, (2) a person’s own karma,
(3) individual agency, (4) the immediate (effects of karma), (5) the sublime
abidings, (6) former dwellings (in previous lives), (7) the purification of gifts,
and (8) for the sake of not abandoning the conventions of the world.88 As he goes
on to explain, this is eminently practical. Technical analytic language is confusing
when talking about shame, loving-kindness, the workings of karma and rebirth,
and so on. For these topics one is better off using ordinary talk of “persons”:
When it is said that “the aggregates, elements, and bases have shame and
have apprehension,” the crowd does not understand, becomes confused,
and rebels, [saying], “how can it be that aggregates, elements, and bases
have shame and have apprehension?” But when one says that “a woman has
shame and apprehension, a man has shame and apprehension, a Brahmin,
a god, or Māra,” then [people] understand, are not confused, and do not
rebel. Because of this, the Buddha taught a teaching on persons for the
purpose casting light on shame and apprehension, et cetera.89
So too, with the sublime abidings, constituting as they do the varieties of love
toward “persons” (rather than collections of “aggregates”); and karma, and the
other topics mentioned as appropriate for conventional buddhavacana. Thus the
Buddha’s choice of conventional language is not configured as a concession to
the ignorant ways of the world, but as a pragmatic and skillful decision about
what sorts of language to apply in different contexts. Language that goes furthest
(parama) analytically resulting in aggregates, elements, and bases, has its place
too. As Charles Hallisey has shown, these two uses of language are not ranked.
They are just different uses of language, such as we might use in talking about a
88. Mp i.95; Ps i.138 (ItiA 82): Apica aṭṭhahi kāraṇehi bhagavā puggalakathaṃ katheti—
hirottappadīpanatthaṃ, kammassakatādīpanatthaṃ, paccattapurisakāradīpanatthaṃ,
ānantariyadīpanatthaṃ, brahmavihāradīpanatthaṃ, pubbenivāsadīpanatthaṃ,
dakkhiṇāvisuddhidīpanatthaṃ, lokasammutiyā appahānatthañcāti.
89. Mp i.96: “Khandhadhātuāyatanāni hiriyanti ottappantī” ti hi vutte mahājano na jānāti,
sammohamāpajjati, paṭisattu hoti “kimidaṃ khandhadhātuāyatanāni hiriyanti ottappanti
nāmā” ti? “Itthī hiriyati ottappati, puriso khattiyo brāhmaṇo devo māro” ti vutte pana jānāti, na
sammohamāpajjati, na paṭisattu hoti. Tasmā bhagavā hirottappadīpanatthaṃ puggalakathaṃ
katheti.
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star as part of a constellation in the night sky or, in contrast, describing it in the
technical terminology of astrophysics.90 Neither is more true than the other, nor
does the truth of one demonstrate the falseness of the other, and which is “better”
depends on the context. As Hallisey points out, the distinction is formulated not
to pit them against each other as opposites but to create a larger framework that
gives value to both (this is true for the other pairings described in this chapter as
well).91
Further, Buddhaghosa likens the two kinds of teaching to the use of different
languages. A good teacher can switch between the Andhra language and the
Tamil language depending on which language his audience speaks:
90. Hallisey, “In Defense of Rather Fragile and Local Achievement,” 128–29. Jayatilleke, Early
Buddhist Theory of Knowledge, 364, and Karunadasa, “The Buddhist Theory of Double Truth,”
33–34, make the same point about the lack of ranking in the Pali approach to these terms.
91. Hallisey, “In Defense of Rather Fragile and Local Achievement,” 133.
92. Mp i.95; Ps i.137: yathā hi desabhāsākusalo tiṇṇaṃ vedānaṃ atthasaṃvaṇṇanako ācariyo
ye damiḷabhāsāya vutte atthaṃ jānanti, tesaṃ damiḷabhāsāya ācikkhati. Ye andhabhāsādīsu
aññatarāya bhāsāya, tesaṃ tāya tāya bhāsāya. Evaṃ te māṇavakā chekaṃ byattaṃ
ācariyamāgamma khippameva sippaṃ uggaṇhanti. Tattha ācariyo viya buddho bhagavā, tayo vedā
viya kathetabbabhāve ṭhitāni tīṇi piṭakāni, desabhāsākosallamiva sammutiparamatthakosallaṃ.
Scripture, Commentary, and Exegetical Distinctions 89
sense may be too “severe” a register of language for people at first.93 There is some-
thing about talking with and about people on matters of loving-kindness and
giving gifts that would seem to make the spare, reductive, and technical language
of “aggregates” baffling and off-putting, to say the least.
We have seen that something of this distinction about language or termi-
nology corresponds to Buddhaghosa’s descriptions of genre: paramattha is asso-
ciated with Abhidhamma knowledge, and colloquial talk (vohāra) with Suttanta:
Here the Vinaya piṭaka is called teaching in the form of commands be-
cause of being a teaching with a preponderance of commands [spoken
by] the Bhagavan who was worthy of making commands; the Sutta
piṭaka is called a colloquial teaching due to a preponderance of the collo-
quial taught by the Bhagavan who was skillful in colloquial talk; and the
Abhidhamma piṭaka is called teaching in the furthest sense because being
a teaching with a preponderance of furthest sense taught by the Bhagavan
who was skillful in furthest sense. 94
This claim does not restrict any one of the registers of speech exclusively to its
associated genre (and in practice there is much fluidity across genre on this),
but rather suggests that each genre has a preponderance of one of the three. The
notion of colloquial or transactional talk (vohāra) that predominates in the suttas
suggests both the idiomatic speech of regular people and the language of trade,
business, and legal transactions. While the suttas are also full of commands and
more technical teachings in the paramattha register, one of the features of Suttanta
discourse that particularly interests Buddhaghosa is its dialogical back-and-forth
nature of Buddha’s engagement with particular interlocutors (as I explore in the
next chapter). Vohāra, perhaps more than sammuti, gets to this “back-and-forth”
in both trade and conversation.
For its part, paramattha analysis is a use of language that dismantles ideas and
constructs to show how they can be broken down into smaller parts in order to
discern the conditional relations between them. The Abhidhamma deploys the
93. KvA 34: pakatiyā pana paṭhamameva paramatthakathaṃ kathentassa desanā lūkhākārā
hoti. Lūkha can mean “rough, coarse, unpleasant, poor, bad,” indicating here some sort of
unpleasant mode (ākāra) of speech. I follow Law’s translation of “severe” here (The Debates
Commentary, 42).
94. As 21; Sp i.21; Sv i.19: ettha hi vinayapiṭakaṃ āṇārahena bhagavatā āṇābāhullato
desitattā āṇādesanā; suttantapiṭakaṃ vohārakusalena bhagavatā vohārabāhullato desitattā
vohāradesanā; abhidhammapiṭakaṃ paramatthakusalena bhagavatā paramatthabāhullato
desitattā paramatthadesanāti vuccati. As 223 claims Abhidhamma is paramattha teachings.
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The Perfectly Awakened One, the best among speakers, taught that
there are two truths: conventional and furthest sense. A third [truth] is
not found.
An agreed-upon statement is true because it is the performance
(kāraṇā) of the conventional terms of the world; an expression in the
furthest sense is true because it is the performance (kāraṇā) in which
dhammas are brought about.
95. Vism XVIII is an exercise of “purifying view” (diṭṭhivisuddhi) (Vism 587 [XVIII.2]),
where Buddhaghosa describes paramattha as a way of seeing only naming and forming [rather
than persons] (paramatthato pana nāmarūpamattam eva atthī ti. Evam passato hi dassanaṃ
yathābhūtadassanaṃ nāma hoti [Vism 593 (XVIII.28)]).
96. Vism 593 (XVIII.28).
Scripture, Commentary, and Exegetical Distinctions 91
Here we find the idea of these two truths being acted out, performed, or tasked
(all possible with kāraṇā) with these different kinds of language; sammuti truths
are the performance of ideas commonly understood, but paramattha is a use of
language tasked with having brought about (bhūta) the highly reductive terms
that are the phenomena (dhamma) of analysis. These verses do not put these two
truths in a hierarchy or suggest that, from the standpoint of a putative “ultimate
reality,” the Buddha’s conventional teachings are false. The notion that conven-
tional truth could in any way be construed as “false speech” is in fact explicitly
denied, both in the verses and Buddhaghosa’s subsequent discussion.98 For how
could anything the Buddha uttered be regarded as in any way deficient in truth?
One key difference between this formulation and Sanskrit doctrines on
the two truths, is that the Pali tradition uses the term sammuti, rather than the
Sanskrit term saṃvṛti, and they are not cognates (as is sometimes suggested in
the scholarship).99 Sanskrit saṃvṛti can have the sense of covering, obstructing,
97. Ps i.138; Mp i.95 (and ItiA i.82); note that Sv ii.383 and Spk ii.77 have just the first two of
these three verses. Cf. Pind’s translation; see his discussion of these verses in “Pāli Miscellany,”
515–22. Duve saccāni akkhāsi, sambuddho vadataṃ varo; sammutiṃ paramatthañca, tatiyaṃ
nūpalabbhati. //Saṅketavacanaṃ saccaṃ, lokasammutikāraṇā; paramatthavacanaṃ saccaṃ,
dhammānaṃ bhūtakāraṇā. //Tasmā vohārakusalassa, lokanāthassa satthuno; sammutiṃ
voharantassa, musāvādo na jāyatī ti. It is unclear where these verses originally came from,
though they are cited in several places in the commentarial material, but Law suggests that
they correspond to Nāgārjuna’s statement on two truths (Buddhaghosa, 85).
98. KvA 34 also denies that there can be anything false in the conventional discourse taught
by the Buddha (te sammutikathaṃ kathentāpi saccameva sabhāvameva amusāva kathenti).
The picture I am describing here for Buddhaghosa appears to be different from that of the
modern Theravada thinker Ledi Sayadaw, who argues that from the standpoint of ultimate
truth, conventional truth is “erroneous” (“Some Points in Buddhist Doctrine,” 129), some-
thing Buddhaghosa never says. Karunadasa (“The Buddhist Theory of Double Truth,” 35–
36) also notes this discrepancy. But my reading of the Pali tradition also departs from that
of Karunadasa, who says that for the Pali tradition and the Sarvāstivādins alike it was taken
“for granted that what cannot be further analysed, what is irreducible, is real (paramattha,
dravyasat) and that which is further analysable is nominal (sammuti, prajñaptisat)” (27). I do
not find evidence that for Buddhaghosa (at least) paramattha means anything like dravyasat,
substantially real (a term he never uses). As the Pali tradition developed, the distinction about
paramattha and sammuti may have come to have epistemological and metaphysical signifi-
cance (such as in the Abhidhammatthasaṅgaha in the ontological reading of Bhikkhu Bodhi, A
Comprehensive Manual of Abhidhamma, 25–27). Scholars have not always clearly distinguished
the commentarial approach of Buddhaghosa and Dhammapāla from this later tradition.
99. As for example, Buswell and Lopez, The Princeton Dictionary of Buddhism, 762. The entry
on saṃvṛti: identifies it with Pali sammuti and says, “in Sanskrit the term carries a connotation
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Therein, “person” means self, being, soul. “One arrives at” means one
arrives, having approached with the understanding, the meaning is “one
knows.” Here “by way of a true sense, a furthest sense”: “true sense” means
real, not to be understood as something unreal like a delusion, mirage, et
cetera; “furthest sense” means highest, not to be understood on the basis
of hearsay, et cetera.101
of ‘covering, concealing,’ implying that the independent reality apparently possessed by ordi-
nary phenomena may seem vivid and convincing, but is in fact ultimately illusory and unreal.”
For clarification on the derivation of sammuti from √sam-man (not √sam-var or √sam-vṛ) see
Collins, A Pali Grammar for Students, 12.
100. Kv 1: Puggalo upalabbhati saccikaṭṭhaparamatthenāti.
101. KvA 9: Tattha puggaloti attā, satto jīvo. Upalabbhatīti paññāya upagantvā labbhati, ñāyatīti
attho. Saccikaṭṭhaparamatthenāti ettha saccikaṭṭhoti māyāmarīciādayo viya abhūtākārena
aggahetabbo bhūtaṭṭho. Paramatthoti anussavādivasena aggahetabbo uttamattho.
Scripture, Commentary, and Exegetical Distinctions 93
These definitions concern how one knows the idea of “person,” and the Vibhajjavādin
position is to assert that “person” is not known by the reductive practices associated
with analysis. The text contrasts this to the way that the categories of Abhidhamma
analysis are known (which the text lists here as fifty-seven dhammas, as they are
classified among the aggregates, sensory bases, elements, faculties, et cetera).102
Against the Puggalavādins, the commentary holds that one arrives at the dhammas
quite differently than one does for the idea of “person,” and can know them truth-
fully and further in the way one cannot know “person.” As an Abhidhammic text the
Kathāvatthu describes an analytical method that is meant to demonstrate that there
is a difference between the categories this method produces—the dhammas—and
conventional terms like “person,” which dissolve like mirages when so analyzed. In
the context of this discussion, against people who would argue that “person” is like
“dhamma,” the category of “person” is not usefully and skillfully analytic.
And yet, despite this discussion, we must note that the rejection of the useful-
ness of “person” as a category of analysis is contextual because in other contexts,
even within the Abhidhamma, “person” is a useful category. We have an en-
tire Abhidhamma text called Describing Persons (Puggalapaññatti), which uses
“person” as its category of analysis. Persons are hardly off-limits in Abhidhamma
discourse. This text begins in ways we would expect by analyzing the category of
“person” into the various reductive schemas that constitute it, such as aggregates,
elements, bases, truths, the faculties, and so on. But then the bulk of the text
goes on to describe and redescribe persons as relatively unproblematic “wholes,”
according to moral status, character, and action, social class, temperament, and
spiritual capacity. One way to understand this is to return again to the pragmatic
and contextual use of language that Buddhaghosa notes, where perhaps no term
or idea is “inherently” sammuti or paramattha; the highly context-sensitive na-
ture of the distinction would also militate against the ontological reading. That is
to say, when arguing against Puggalavādins, “puggala” needs to be dismantled as
analytically problematic, at least in comparison to the use of “dhammas,” which
can make it dissolve. But puggala can elsewhere be a useful category, helpfully
described in diverse ways by the classificatory schemes of the Puggalapaññatti.
To sum up, as Karunadasa puts it, the distinction between paramattha and
sammuti “refers not to two species of truth as such, but to two modes of explaining
the truth”; it pertains to “method, and not to content.”103 A crucial corollary
to this—and one we explore at length in c hapter 4, so I only signal it here—is
that Buddhaghosa does not make the leap into ontology that would view the
resulting paramattha listings of dhammas as a final, irreducible list of ontological
reals, as has been suggested by some scholars, including (oddly, given his remarks
earlier) Karunadasa.104 The paramattha method of analysis, even of dhammas, is
an endless activity or practice rather than an attempt to arrive at a final and def-
inite listing of what is ultimately, in an ontological sense, real. Paramattha does
not mean ontologically real in Buddhaghosa’s work, and he does not see himself
doing the metaphysical argumentation that would produce such claims. But this
discussion awaits chapter 4. For now, it is enough to see that paramattha and
vohāra/sammuti refer to uses of language, ways of seeing, or analytical exercises
efficacious for certain contexts within the larger teleology he advances.
Monks, there are two ways of slandering the Tathāgatha. What are the
two? One explains a sutta whose meaning is interpretable as a sutta whose
meaning is definitive, and one explains a sutta whose meaning is definitive
as a sutta whose meaning is interpretable.105
104. Karunadasa, “The Buddhist Theory of Double Truth,” 36–37. Throughout his paper
Karunadasa refers to the dhammas arrived at through the Abhidhamma method as “real
existents,” an ontological leap neither required nor carried out by Buddhaghosa at least.
Examples of other scholars who read the Pali Abhidhamma tradition as giving an ontological
description of ultimate reals include Ronkin, who argues that at the aṭṭhakathā level, dhammas
were reckoned as “the ultimate independently existing constituents of experience” (Early
Buddhist Metaphysics, 122). Bhikkhu Bodhi calls dhammas in the Abhidhamma texts “onto-
logical actualities,” stepping away, I believe, from Nyanaponika’s phenomenological approach
on which he comments (“Editor’s Introduction” to Nyanaponika Thera’s Abhidhamma Studies,
xviii).
105. A i.60: dveme, bhikkhave, tathāgataṃ abbhācikkhanti. Katame dve? Yo ca neyyatthaṃ
suttantaṃ nītattho suttantoti dīpeti, yo ca nītatthaṃ suttantaṃ neyyattho suttantoti dīpeti. Netti
21 explicitly demonstrates asking which category a text belongs to.
Scripture, Commentary, and Exegetical Distinctions 95
By taking what is stated plainly and reading inferred meaning into it, one distorts;
by not doing the work of inference of something that needs to be drawn out, one
also distorts. So the first task is to figure out which kind of statement is which.
But how are we to know what kind of statement or utterance it is that one is
explaining? As is generally the case, Buddhaghosa does not give general herme-
neutical criteria for distinguishing statements that need to be interpreted from
those stated definitively; but he does suggest in the following example that it is
out of immaturity or foolishness (bālatā) that one would confuse them.
His commentary on this passage provides his most systematic treatment
of this distinction, and one that is also relevant to our understanding of the
sammuti/paramattha distinction.
Suttas that say such things as “Monks, there is one person,” “monks,
there are two persons,” “monks, there are three persons,” “monks, there
are four persons” need to be interpreted. Although “monks, there is one
person” was said by the Perfectly Awakened One, ultimately there is no
name for “person” in the furthest sense and so the meaning of it should
be interpreted. But [a fool], because of his own immaturity, explains this
sutta as definitive. For the Tathāgatha would not say “monks, there is
one person” when there is no person from the [standpoint of ] furthest
sense. But since this was said by him [i.e., the Tathāgatha], he [the foolish
person] explains a sutta that is to be interpreted as a sutta that is defini-
tive, understanding it [to say] that there is a person from the [standpoint
of ] furthest sense. The definitive meaning is the stated meaning, such as
“impermanent, suffering, nonself.” For here the meaning simply is imper-
manent, suffering, nonself. But [a fool], because of his own immaturity
explains a definitive sutta as an interpretable sutta, saying “this sutta is in-
terpretable, I need to bring out its meaning.”106
107. Pind agrees: “in spite of this interesting connection, Buddhaghosa does not explicitly cor-
relate neyyattha with sammuti nor paramattha with nītattha” and they do not “belong in the
same context” (“Pāli Miscellany,” 522).
108. Vasubandhu made this distinction along these lines (Gold, Paving the Great Way, 117).
109. Lamotte, “Assessment of Textual Interpretation in Buddhism,” 17. In contrast, Bhikkhu
Bodhi seems more willing to generalize on the basis of this passage: “the Pāli commentators
decide this issue [of which discourses are which] on the basis of the Abhidhamma distinction
between ultimate realities and conventional realities” (Bodhi, trans., The Numerical Discourses
of the Buddha, 1624 n.243). (His putting it thus is also more ontological than I would frame
the paramattha/sammuti distinction, as discussed previously.) Karundasa also sees a general
correspondence between the two distinctions (“The Buddhist Theory of Double Truth,” 36).
Scripture, Commentary, and Exegetical Distinctions 97
110. As 92–93.
111. Sp iv.847.
112. Ps ii.363; iii.14.
113. Sv i.36: pariyāya-saddo tāva vāradesanākāraṇesu vattati. Cf. Ps i.17. Pariyāya when used
on its own can in fact mean a range of different things, including a method of teaching or
exposition (sometimes Buddhaghosa will offer “another way” (aparopi pariyāyo) to interpret
something using this term, Spk i.99), or a figurative use of speech (as for example, As 63; Pj
I 15). It is notable that the Jains used the term paryāya in a technical way to describe modal
knowledge: the viewpoint of modes (paryāyarthika-naya) in contrast to the viewpoint of sub-
stance (dravyārthika-naya). The first “considers the modifications and conditions of an object”
and “indicates the infinite standpoints possible when Reality is analyzed from the modes it
possesses” (Grimes, A Concise Dictionary of Indian Philosophy, 230). This modal logic works
well for many instances of Buddhaghosa’s use of the term. The second, a standpoint based on
an object’s substance, is something Buddhaghosa would never say: dravya is not part of his
thinking.
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purpose was at hand, and where the emphasis is on the skillful activity or per-
formance of a pedagogical approach.114 Our interest here is when pariyāya is
contrasted to nippariyāya as two different ways an assertion can be made or taken;
pairing and contrasting the two was a commentarial development based on a
single canonical occurrence of the pairing of these terms in the Aṅguttara. When
contrasted in this way, when the Buddha spoke in a manner that is pariyāya, he
was speaking contextually, modally, figuratively, or in a qualified sense; when he
spoke in a manner that is nippariyāya, he spoke categorically, abstractly, literally,
or unqualifiedly. Because the contrast between these terms developed variously
and was used to different purposes depending on context, it is helpful to resist
thinking about this distinction as concerning a single dimension of language or
about either term as managed easily by a single translation.115 As often, contextual
examples can show us what this meant.
The Aṅguttara passage in which this distinction makes its single appearance
in the canon is an account of a contemplative practice. The Buddha describes
progressive meditative freedom from “confinement” as finding “space” from the
usual trappings of sensory experience. The meditative progression finds space
first “in a qualified sense” (pariyāya) and then “categorically” (nippariyāya).116
Buddhaghosa says that pariyāya means “by one instance,” (and so “in a qualified
sense” seems a good way to translate it here), while nippariyāya (“categorically,”
“unrestrictedly”) means “not by way of a single instance but in every way and
entirely the taints are destroyed, all confinement is eliminated, and open space
is found.”117 This suggests that in this case the two are related as the particular
is to the general, as Charles Hallisey observes.118 It can also refer to the way that
nippariyāya knowledge is abstracted from the thicker contextual particularities of
pariyāya usage that can constrain sense.
114. We see this usage of pariyāya as the activity or performance (kāraṇa) of a teaching, as
Buddhaghosa glosses it (Spk iii.97), in the Bahuvedanīya Sutta, which I discuss in c hapter 4.
115. Sasaki settles perhaps too quickly on a single point of contrast in the Pali sources, where
pariyāya refers to the “reason” (Grund) something comes to be and nippariyāya refers to the
“fact” (Tatsache) of its existence or the “result” (Folge) of what prompted it (“Pariyāya und
Nippariyāya,” 50). As the examples I describe here show, the terms get at varying vectors of
meaning.
116. A iv.450–51.
117. Mp iv.205–206: pariyāyenāti ekena kāraṇena . . . nippariyāyenāti na ekena kāraṇena, atha
kho āsavakkhayo nāma sabbasambādhānaṃ pahīnattā sabbena sabbaṃ okāsādhigamo nāmāti.
118. Hallisey, “In Defense of Rather Fragile and Local Achievement: Reflections on the Work
of Gurulugomi,” 132.
Scripture, Commentary, and Exegetical Distinctions 99
This distinction between pariyāya and nippariyāya can also be used to distin-
guish two different soteriological ambitions. For example, “maintaining a life of
purity” can be interpreted both relatively and categorically: in a qualified sense it
refers to following the five precepts in order to achieve a good rebirth, while cate-
gorically, it refers to the perfectly “stainless” purity of the path of nibbāna, which
cannot be qualified in any way.119 Statements about nibbāna tend to be deemed
categorical and unqualified.
Buddhaghosa uses the distinction elsewhere to refer to the style of teachings
given in the context of a conversation between the wise monk Assaji (whom we
met before in his terse teachings to Sāriputta) and an arrogant and clever Jain
called Saccaka, known to be a formidable debater. Assaji, Buddhaghosa says,
used abstract or categorical discourse (nippariyāyakathā) rather than qualified
discourse (pariyāyakathā) when introducing the Buddha’s teaching to him. He
got straight to the point in teaching that “form is impermanent,” using very di-
rect language. This interlocutor, who was predisposed to refuting the teachings
and finding fault, needed language that was categorical rather than qualified or
contextualized; he was “not established,” that is, he had no shared ground on
which a qualified or figurative teaching would work.120
In other cases, the distinction is more like that between the “contextual”
and the “categorical.” The Visuddhimagga notes that words are often contextual
(pariyāya): some, like “long” and “short,” apply only relative to other things.121
We can say that the material experience of one kind of deities is inferior to that
of another, and thus the idea of “inferior” is a concept that here only makes sense
relative to something else.122 But, unlike long and short, we can also speak of “in-
ferior” more categorically (nippariyāya) as when we say that a certain rebirth is
inferior because it is the result of bad (akusala) karma. The categorical use of
language is often definitional: because bad karma by definition produces infe-
rior, that is, bad, rebirths, there is nothing contextual about using “inferior” in
this way. Note that there is nothing essentially either contextual or categorical in
the word “inferior”—the word can go either way depending on the context in
which it is used. There thus remains some important sense in which some context
matters, even with categorical usage, to discern which is which.123
In classifying the first Noble Truth of suffering, an Abhidhamma commentarial
discussion describes pariyāya suffering and nippariyāya suffering as listed in a ma-
trix along with other classifications of suffering.124 Categorical suffering is the
bodily and mental pain that is suffering, literally “the suffering that is suffering.”
But other types of suffering are more qualified or contextual such as the suffering
of birth, aging, death, and so on, as formulated in the classic description of the
four Noble Truths.125 The sufferings attending birth and old age are not always
literally and unqualifiedly painful in the way that pain is by its very nature, pain.
We might extrapolate that this means that one must look at the birth of a baby
in a very specific way to see that it is suffering, since in other respects it might be
an occasion for joy. To see birth as suffering one may consider how even a healthy
delivery is painful for the mother or the infant, or one might ponder the sad truth
that whoever is born will someday die. Old age, too, can have it merits and may
not always be suffering in an unqualified sense, though in some senses it can in-
volve suffering. This qualified or contextual sense is quite unlike the definitional
sense of suffering qua suffering.
A further way of understanding the contrast is in terms of “figurative” and
“literal” claims. This can be seen in the definition of “rebirth”: rebirth can be
stated literally as the first manifestation of the aggregates, since that is how re-
birth is defined. But we can also refer to it more figuratively as exiting the mother’s
womb.126 Another example can be found in an Abhidhamma commentary on a
very technical issue: moral precepts (sīla) are literally the morality of restraint and
the morality of nontransgression; only figuratively can we speak of sīla as the mo-
rality of intention (cetanā) and mental phenomena (cetasika).127 This means that,
strictly speaking, moral precepts are restraining and refraining from wrongdoing,
123. Hallisey makes this point as well (Hallisey, “In Defense of Rather Fragile and Local
Achievement,” 132).
124. Vism 499 and Vibh-a 93: pariyāyadukkhaṃ nippariyāyadukkhanti.
125. Vism 499 and Vibh- a 94: ṭhapetvā dukkhadukkhaṃ sesaṃ dukkhasaccavibhaṅge
āgataṃ jātiādi sabbampi tassa tassa dukkhassa vatthubhāvato ‘pariyāyadukkhaṃ’ nāma.
Dukkhadukkhaṃ ‘nippariyāyadukkhaṃ’ nāma. The classic formulation of the first noble truth
is the passage on which this commentary is discussing as given in the Vibhaṅga (Vibh 99).
126. Vism 499.
127. Vibh-a : 331: Ettha ca saṃvarasīlaṃ avītikkamasīlanti idameva nippariyāyato sīlaṃ; cetanā
sīlaṃ cetasikaṃ sīlanti pariyāyato sīlanti veditabbaṃ. This issue of sīla as the absence (through
restraint and lack of performing) of wrong actions (rather than a matter of positive intention)
is discussed in my book, Heim, The Forerunner of All Things, ch. 1.
Scripture, Commentary, and Exegetical Distinctions 101
even though we might speak more informally as their being a matter of positive
intention and mental states.
For me, one of the most interesting alignments Buddhaghosa makes about
this distinction occurs when he associates pariyāya discourse with Suttanta and
nippariyāya with Abhidhamma. In a small reference to them made in passing
in the Atthasālinī, he indicates that teachings may have less or more context in
which they are delivered: pariyāya teachings that are given in the Suttanta can
include background knowledge of the people involved (such as their moral
habits), while nippariyāya teachings are more abstract and given without refer-
ence to context or persons. In the midst of a very spare “Abhidhammic” account
of the eightfold path (the details here are not pertinent for the point), he offers
a different possibility for describing it, which he describes as a “Suttanta” style of
thinking about it:
This small comment suggests that contextual facts about a given person’s previous
moral action (the insertion is from a Majjhima passage describing an actual set
of practices carried out by an ideal meditator) are a matter of pariyāya teaching
(associated here with Suttanta), and that this is contrasted with the rather
starker (we might suggest) categorical renderings of the Dhamma, in which such
interjections about particular persons are irrelevant (of the sort we get in the
Abhidhamma).
Buddhaghosa also associates these terms with the two genres in a rather tech-
nical discussion of different experiences that can be had in the first jhāna, an ad-
vanced contemplative state. The Dhammasaṅgaṇī distinguishes three experiences
possible in this jhāna: “emptiness” (suññatā), “signless” (animitta), and “not
desired” (appaṇihita). The details of these are not as important for our purposes
as noticing what Buddhaghosa says about how they get their names:
By the Suttanta method something gets its name from its associated qual-
ities and by its object. This is a contextual teaching (pariyāyadesanā). But
129. As 222 (on Dhs 99): Tattha suttantikapariyāyena saguṇatopi ārammaṇatopi nāmaṃ
labhati. Pariyāyadesanā hesā. Abhidhammakathā pana nippariyāyadesanā. Tasmā idha
saguṇato vā ārammaṇato vā nāmaṃ na labhati, āgamanatova labhati.
130. As 222: Āgamanameva hi dhuraṃ. Taṃ duvidhaṃ hoti—vipassanāgamanaṃ
maggāgamananti. Note that Pe Maung Tin and Rhys Davids say that some manuscripts have
dhuvaṃ (“certain”) in place of dhuraṃ (foremost or principal) (The Expositor, 300 n. 2.).
131. Hallisey has also argued for the significance of the lack of hierarchical ranking in this
and other distinctions about language made in the Pali sources (including also the sammuti/
paramattha and the neyyattha/nītattha distinctions). He discusses the various ways that each
distinction was conceived, and notes that as much as the terms in each pair are contrasted, they
are also alternatives within “a larger framework” or a “single field in which one element consist-
ently gives value to the other” (“In Defense of Rather Fragile and Local Achievement,” 132–34).
Scripture, Commentary, and Exegetical Distinctions 103
Conclusions
Throughout this chapter I have sought to draw a distinction between setting for-
ward general principles or rules of interpretation, on the one hand, and practicing
methods through commentarial examples, on the other. Both can offer guidelines,
but they do so in different ways. My reading of Buddhaghosa is that he treats the
many distinctions described in this chapter not as general principles that can be
articulated in advance and then applied to particular cases, but more as methods
or rules of thumb that emerge through the practice of exposition. In fact, he often
(though not always) resists the tendency to step out of the thickets of practice to
assert general principles, a style of teaching similar to Vasubandhu’s hermeneutic
manual, as noted previously. The pedagogy is cumulative rather than declarative,
particularist rather than universal (though we will want to look for patterns), and
methodical rather than summative.
104 Build ing Blo cks for an In t er pretat ive Pro gr a m
Another way to discern his style of work is to mention the ancient Greek idea
of mētis, the practical knowledge that comes from doing the activity, usually by
working as an apprentice with a master. Mētis is learning by doing, and while it
involves rules of thumb (of the sort we have considered in this chapter), “knowing
how and when to apply the rules of thumb in a concrete situation is the essence of
mētis. The subtleties of application are important precisely because mētis is most
valuable in settings that are mutable, indeterminate (some facts are unknown)
and particular.”132 Mētis is local knowledge that can adapt to constantly changing
conditions; it is not evident how or if it might be abstracted and applied to other
contexts, or how far it can travel. Mētis can be contrasted with the Greek notion
of techne, the formalized, universal, hard-and-fast rules and propositions imper-
vious to context that constitute technical knowledge; techne is “characteristic,
above all, of self-contained systems of reasoning in which the findings may be
logically derived from the initial assumptions.”133 Techne would be the rules of
navigation deployed on the open sea by anyone who had studied them; mētis is
the know-how of the experienced sea captain who has piloted his ship into a par-
ticular port countless times and knows its local idiosyncrasies and how to adjust
to changing weather and conditions there. Buddhaghosa gives us the guidance of
mētis, which we should not mistake for techne.
And so his methods do not aim at the promulgation of a decisive set of rules
formulated to guide interpretative practice in all cases, such as those we find
described by Lamotte in the Mahāyāna Catuḥpratisaraṇasūtra. This text has sev-
eral straightforward principles, such as prioritizing meaning over phrasing, and
the literal meaning over the interpreted meaning.134 Such principles can be very
useful in a commentator’s hands because they provide in a consistent and system-
atic way rules for coping with apparent inconsistencies in scriptural texts that must
have posed immediate and explicit dilemmas for many Mahāyāna interpreters.
Buddhaghosa’s approach, as a self-described Vibhajjavādin, is different; he does
not allow for the possibility of even apparent contradictions in the scriptures
themselves (for they are allegedly perfect in meaning and phrasing), his tradi-
tion is represented as coming to him whole and unbroken, and he does not see
the role of the commentator as a matter of declaring and arguing his own views.
His role, as he himself tells us, is rather to make distinctions and point out a mul-
tiplicity of methods for understanding as he goes along. His pedagogy is no less
132. Scott, Seeing Like a State, 316. Scott is getting this rehabilitation of the idea of mētis from
Detienne and Vernant, Cunning Intelligence in Greek Culture and Society. I am grateful to
Charles Hallisey for pointing me to this distinction.
133. Scott, Seeing Like a State, 320.
134. Lamotte, “Assessment of Textual Interpretation in Buddhism.”
Scripture, Commentary, and Exegetical Distinctions 105
135. Erich Frauwallner initiated a tradition in modern scholarship that suggests that compared
to the Sarvāstivāda, the Pali tradition fell far short of the “doctrinal system, theoretical
considerations, and clear systematic thought” of the Sarvāstivādins. This view continues to
be echoed in current work, as for example, when Bronkhorst suggests that “the Sarvāstivāda
tradition fundamentally distinguished itself from the Pāli school in its attempt to order the
doctrine systematically.” See Bronkhorst’s discussion of “systematizing” (Buddhist Teaching in
India, 109–10; he quotes the above quotation by Frauwallner).
136. Bond, The Word of the Buddha, 43.
106 Build ing Blo cks for an In t er pretat ive Pro gr a m
directly to them in a way that, in principle at least, knows no limits. The enact-
ment of this immeasurable knowledge is expressed in the Suttanta and Vinaya
genres, which are full of stories of the particular instances of people encountering
the Buddha’s knowledge of them. Both genres present the Buddha’s teachings as
embedded in very particular narrative contexts: both canon and commentary lo-
cate every sutta and vinaya rule in a story. Suttas begin not with the Buddha’s
voice, but with his closest disciple reporting what he had heard and the occasion
on which he heard it; Vinaya rules begin with Upāli, the reciter of the Vinaya,
telling the story of the infraction that prompted the laying down of the rule. Our
concern in this chapter is with suttas, but many of the considerations we explore
here are pertinent for chapter 5 on the Vinaya.
The narrative occasion of the sutta was called the nidāna: Ᾱnanda says, “Thus
have I heard,” and then recounts the time, place, audience, and other particulars
in which the Buddha’s sermon is given. The commentaries often develop further
the canonical account, sometimes adding significantly to the narrative setting
in which the Buddha gave his sermons. In this way, sutta knowledge is always
embedded in a story. Buddhaghosa argues for the importance of this setting and
how exactly it works as an interpretative device. The nidāna is the principal emic
category at work in this chapter, because it suggests how important narrative
context is for the interpretation of scripture through which the ideal reader
experiences the Buddha’s omniscience; this experience is configured as a contem-
plative and transformative practice of being existentially oriented to the qualities
of the Buddha.
As suggested in the previous chapter, the emic distinction between pariyāya
and nippariyāya, which here we might refer to as “contextual” and “categorical”
teachings, is also operative for understanding how Buddhaghosa interprets nar-
ratively situated knowledge in contrast to the more abstracted knowledge of the
Abhidhamma. As we saw, pariyāya knowledge is knowledge by way of “one in-
stance,” rather than the more categorical Abhidhamma methods that explore
what can be known in every instance. To follow up on the possibilities of how
knowledge speaks to the “one instance” that prompts it and to which it speaks is
to explore the embeddedness of doctrine in the original instance in which it was
uttered.
While not invoking the idea of nidāna or the distinction between pariyāya
and nippariyāya, Richard Nance has noted how the Buddha taught in a manner
both “presently and locally” and “tenselessly and universally.” He suggests,
that which is stable and persists across time. To date, scholarly work on
Buddhist philosophy has tended to focus on the latter face, and to view
the former as a matter of dispensable (usually rhetorical) ornament.2
Nance shifts the focus to the contextual, dialogical, and pedagogically situated
teachings, and urges attentiveness to the Buddha’s “skills of orientation and ap-
plication” in addressing his audiences, and in turn their “responsiveness.”3 While
concerned mostly with Mahāyāna sources and the notion of skillful means,
Nance argues for the philosophically rich possibilities of the dialogical features of
the Buddha’s teachings in ways aligned with my approach in this chapter.
It is often easy for modern scholars, based on rationalist assumptions, to iden-
tify the significance of those kinds of textual knowledge that are delivered in terms
of propositional content, where (apparently) decontextualized assertions appear
to have universal import and relevance. A dominant style of modern Western
philosophy, for example, is given in the form of the systematic treatise, a genre
that speaks in a highly universalist register. Systematic treatises give and appear to
require no interpretative frame through which they must be understood.
In contrast, another kind of interpretative frame widely developed and used
by modern historically minded scholars involves interpreting a text in relation-
ship to its historical contexts (variously conceived as intellectual, social, polit-
ical, economic, etc.). The idea that a historical framework is useful or required
to interpret a text (even one that makes no explicit reference to such a context
in making its propositional claims) may seem to call into question the text’s uni-
versal significance and to render parochial its knowledge. When we describe a
context outside the text whereby it was produced and received, we risk narrowing
the scope of its relevance to that context: if a text was produced by and for a
particular historical or intellectual community, then how can it have universal
relevance?
This of course is not an unsolvable problem, for surely we must allow that
thought can reach outside of its historical location and speak broadly to human
beings even quite distant from its “original” context. Still, I think the decontex-
tualized treatise of propositional claims and arguments has shaped a prevailing
conception of philosophy as restricted to this form. This valorization of what
we might call decontextualized and universalist discourse can sometimes make
2. Nance, “The Voice of Another,” 367. He has in mind Griffiths, “Denaturalizing
Discourse: Ābhidhārmikas, Propositionalists, and the Comparative Philosophy of Religion” as
an example of a scholar focusing on the timeless face (Nance, “The Voice of Another,” 374 n5).
3. Nance, “The Voice of Another,” 368.
112 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
it hard for us to see the philosophical potency of contextually situated and dia-
logical discourse. It might be one reason why modern scholars often pull out the
sermon’s doctrinal “content” stripped of its dialogical setting when reading Pali
suttas today.
Buddhaghosa was not interested in reading texts to discover their histor-
ical context in the modern sense, but he did think that knowing the narrative
contexts of people and events in the Buddha’s world makes us better readers
of suttas and vinaya rules. And he has a strong sense of the history of the First
Council as well. He draws the notice of his reader to at least two moments of the
past. The first moment is when the nidāna of every sutta was spoken by Ānanda
at the First Council; asked about the particulars of the sutta—where, when, and
to whom it was given, and so forth—Ānanda reported these details. Ānanda’s
words take the reader back to the “original” moment in which the dialogue took
place. Buddhaghosa sees these two events as important for the interpreter to
grasp: “since it is to be asked ‘by whom was this utterance said, when, and why
was it said?’ [it should be] replied that ‘it was spoken by Venerable Ānanda at
the time of the First Council.’ So the First Great Council is the beginning that
should be understood first for the sake of proficiency with the nidāna of each
sutta.”4 This is a layered sense of time involving an account of the original context
by drawing attention first to the “historicity” of the reception and transmission
of that account.
In addition, Buddhaghosa is, as we have seen, highly attuned to different
registers of the Buddha’s teaching; for instance, the pariyāya (contextual) and
nippariyāya (categorical) distinction might seem to replicate the opposition
roughly sketched here between contextually situated and context-free teachings.
For him,5 both are equally the Buddha’s teachings and they do not stand in a
hierarchical relation to each other; neither has a higher claim in teaching “the
truth.” Nor are they entirely mutually exclusive, nor is the distinction absolute.
(Contextualized teachings contain, embedded within them, nippariyāya claims.
And in some important sense, as we will see especially in the next chapter, even
4. Pj I.89: Yato vattabbametaṃ ‘‘idaṃ vacanaṃ kena vuttaṃ, kadā, kasmā ca vutta’’nti.
Vuccate—āyasmatā ānandena vuttaṃ, tañca paṭhamamahāsaṅgītikāle. Paṭhamamahāsaṅgīti
cesā sabbasuttanidānakosallatthamādito pabhuti evaṃ veditabbā.
5. Ramanujan’s influential essay on the context-sensitivity of much classical Indian thought
downplays to some extent the universalist and decontextualized registers of much Indian
thought, but he also notes the “multiple diglossia” that also allowed classical Indians to be fully
capable of context-free modes of thought as well (“Is There an Indian Way of Thinking? An
Informal Essay,” 57). Where Buddhaghosa goes further than Ramanujan is in his explicit ideas
about how these two registers allow for specific interpretative practices.
Buddhavacana in the Suttanta 113
nippariyāya teachings are given some sort of context in which they are to be
interpreted, a context he is helping to create through his commentaries.) Still,
the idea of teachings that offer a context through which the doctrinal content of
a teaching is usefully interpreted was explicitly contrasted with an idea of catego-
rical teachings that require no additional contextual framing to interpret.
I think that Buddhaghosa’s thinking about narrative can reframe some of
our assumptions about context. Modern scholars sometimes read Pali suttas as
offering self-contained propositional content that can be understood independ-
ently of its narrative context. When they have been interested in context it has
often been to reconstruct the social and intellectual context of the Buddha’s mi-
lieu. Neither approach is “wrong,” and certainly many important interpretations
of the Buddha’s teachings have been advanced by these methodological choices.
But they are not the only way to read a Buddhist sutta, and—I argue throughout
this chapter—they can miss hugely important opportunities for understanding
and experiencing doctrine that the Pali commentarial tradition deemed signifi-
cant. In what follows I emphasize two critical features of Buddhaghosa’s reading
practices of the suttas.
First, for Buddhaghosa, reading the narrative contexts in which teachings are
embedded is an essential way that the ideal monastic reader is to approach and
experience the Buddha. In each of the three nidānas to the piṭakas, Buddhaghosa
emphasizes not just omniscience but all of the “qualities of the Buddha”
(buddhaguṇa) and develops them exegetically and contemplatively. Narrative
contexts do important buddhological work to assert and elaborate the qualities of
the Buddha and his overarching narrative to which the ideal reader is to become
oriented. This is made explicit in the case of the Suttanta, when Buddhaghosa
treats the nidāna as a “threshold” or doorway to enter into this piṭaka in a way
that will reveal the Buddha’s qualities, as we will see.
Second, Buddhaghosa’s interpretative methods in reading suttas involve a lit-
erary reading sensitive to the dialogical nature of the Buddha’s teachings. He is
interested in the “on the spot” nature of the Buddha’s teaching style in which he
engages the immediate concerns of his audience in a way that constitutes and
enacts the very unfolding of his awakening mind. The sophisticated dialogical
character of the suttas demonstrates the Buddha’s transformative impact on his
immediate audience, and (ideally) implicates the reader as well.
Beyond the Fractured Text
In an instructive article about various ways of approaching suttas for historical
understanding, Jonathan Walters identifies an interpretative style of reading Pali
suttas that he calls the “textual whole mode,” and that he associates with Steven
114 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
Collins. This method reads suttas in relation to the narrative frames in which they
occur in a manner attentive to their literary qualities. He argues that attending
only to the embedded doctrinal teaching of a sutta “depends upon fracturing the
integrity of the sutta as received.”6 Suttas themselves refer to the stories in which
the Buddha’s teachings were given, stories that can give us a layer of historicity “of
composition, of aesthetics, of reading” that can only be grasped by taking the text
as a “whole.” He argues that through attending to the larger textual whole “both
history and philosophy are enriched by considering the frames within which the
fragments are, we assume purposefully, situated.”7
Of course, we are obliged to ask exactly what is to constitute the textual
“whole” in this vast and multilayered canonical tradition. Walters is careful to
acknowledge the different types of canonical wholes that can be invoked in this
method. The Ariyapariyesanasutta (the “Sermon on the Noble Quest”) on which
he focuses for his example can be read in terms of various textual “wholes”: the
embedded story of the teaching, the Majjhimanikāya in which the sutta occurs,
the Suttanta genre as a whole, and the tipiṭaka itself.8 The canonical layer is also
locating suttas in a biographical whole composed of episodes within the Buddha’s
teaching career and his interactions with his contemporaries. The literary imagi-
nation of the jātaka stories, for example, provides a vast and imaginative literary
whole in which we can consider the dramatis personae of many of the Buddha’s
world (as can the Vinaya literature and the Therī- and Theragāthās, to offer fur-
ther specific examples).
Walters goes further to advance an additional method of reading suttas that
looks also at their subsequent history of reception, a reception that can be studied
through the commentaries as well as the supplementary texts that build on suttas.
In the case of his example, the Ariyapariyesana appears to be the kernel of the
Buddha’s biography on which an enormous supplementary biographical litera-
ture was developed, including such texts that might seem far removed from it,
such as Aśvaghoṣa’s Buddhacarita. (Walters says “one could write a veritable
history of Buddhology, if not the whole religion, as a process of supplementing
the original biography of [the Ariyapariyesana Sutta].”9) And of course the
commentaries provide a very specific history of readership and reception that ad-
vance their readings as the authorized interpretations of the tradition. Walters
notes how Buddhaghosa takes his commentarial role to involve much supple-
mentation as he furnishes the “background” of each sutta in his commentarial
elaborations of the nidāna. In this context, Walters’s response to Buddhaghosa’s
readings of texts is notable:
What startle Walters are the “radically different” agendas (different from that of
modern scholars, that is) that Buddhaghosa’s commentaries advance. In partic-
ular, he describes an agenda aimed at constructing, often through “excruciating
detail,” the Buddha’s daily habits, which produces “nothing less than a docetic
Buddha, only pretending to be an ordinary human being.” Buddhaghosa’s agendas
are “so radically different from my own that it takes great effort even to fathom
what he is saying and that in turn cautions me not to be too certain about seeing
my own readings ‘in the text.’ ”11 Walters suggests that Buddhaghosa’s readings
construct a “Buddhalogical vision far removed from ‘the historical Buddha’ as he
has been conceived by many scholars and Buddhist modernists in the nineteenth
and twentieth centuries.”12
I think that Walters is perceptive about much of this, and I dwell on his dis-
cussion at length here in part to signal that Buddhaghosa’s Buddha, as we have
already begun to see, is not the same historical persona imagined by modernist
Buddhists. What I appreciate about Walters’s remarks is how even if Walters
finds his agendas rather fanciful, he allows Buddhaghosa to give him pause in
his certainties about his own interpretations. Walters allows Buddhaghosa to
“speak to me, starkly”—not just as an authorized reader of the Buddha’s texts far
closer to the Buddha’s world than we are (and thus providing an important his-
torical layer of reception)—but as a thinker whose interpretations can interrupt
his own. Buddhaghosa’s readings “privilege the frame, the textual whole, over the
(puggala) of specific rules and teachings uttered by the Buddha.15 In the case of
the Suttanta, Ᾱnanda is queried as to whether he knows where, when, and to
whom were taught the first two suttas (the Brahmajāla and the Sāmaññaphala)
of the Dīgha Nikāya, the first book of the Suttanta.16 The narrative frame of a
sutta, in which Ᾱnanda utters “Thus have I heard” and names the particulars of
the occasion of the sermon, constitutes the answer to Mahākassapa’s queries and
comes to be recorded as the nidāna of each sutta. The suttas as we have them have
this “historical” moment of transmission recorded within them. Sometimes the
final words at the end of a sutta refer back to this larger narrative frame and de-
scribe the sermon’s impact on that original audience. Such particulars of the or-
igin, circumstances, and reception of a sermon—where, when, on whose account
it was given, and its impact—situate the teaching in a particular moment in time
and connect it to a particular audience.
The nidāna is not limited to canonical texts, however, and the commentators
and subcommentators often expand substantially the original canonical nidāna
and furnish their own supplementary narratives on the setting of a sutta. I refer
to these as the “commentarial nidāna” as opposed to the “canonical nidāna” that
is stated in the sutta. Deploying a great body of received narrative and expository
lore, the commentators often fashioned quite extensive commentarial nidānas
that add significantly to the original setting.
Nidānas can also be the introductions to entire texts or entire genres. For ex-
ample, the aṭṭhakathā on the jātaka verses provides a Jātakanidāna for the entire
jātaka corpus (which gives us the earliest Pali attempt to fashion a more or less
complete biography of the Buddha). And each piṭaka as a whole is also said to
require a nidāna that the commentator provides: Buddhaghosa locates the
Suttanta piṭaka within a commentarial nidāna set forth at the beginning of the
Sumaṅgalavilāsinī;17 the Vinaya is introduced through a narrative context set up
in the opening of the Samantapāsādikā;18 and the Atthasālinī provides a large
nidāna on the Abhidhamma.19 It is of course these very introductory framings for
the genres that furnish so much of what I have been exploring for Buddhaghosa’s
theory of texts, as it is in these efforts to describe and contextualize these genres
that we get his most systematic bird’s-eye view of textual wholes.
In the context of the suttas, commentarial nidānas are presented as
elaborations of introductory matter present in the canonical sources themselves.
They can help support the authenticity and authority of the canonical material,
though Buddhaghosa does not emphasize this function of the nidāna in the way
that Dhammapāla does, as I discuss later. The nidāna is also explicitly described
in the exegetical handbooks as an interpretative tool. As a formal exegetical de-
vice described in the Nettippakaraṇa, the nidāna is a commentarial practice that
comprises, in part, the sixth of the sixteen “modes of conveyance” (hāra), that
is, part of a fourfold array of interpretation tools—linguistic analysis (nerutta),
context (nidāna), authorial intention (adhippaya), and consecutive sequence
(pubbāparasandhi). The nidāna is an account of the occasion or narrative (vatthu)
that prompts the Buddha’s utterance of the teaching.20 Buddhaghosa uses the
nidāna as an interpretative tool, but does not make the same effort Dhammapāla
does to link it to the hāra scheme outlined in the Netti.
Though the nidāna as a literary and interpretative feature has not captured
much modern attention, where they have noticed it, modern scholars have seen
the nidāna largely as a device, as Lily de Silva puts it, to establish for an an-
cient literature “the historicity, authenticity, and the authority” of its canonical
texts.21 George Bond suggests that the nidāna provides the “setting in life” that
“furnishes the context which reveals the true intention of an otherwise vague or
abstract teaching.” From them we “can judge the authenticity and historicity of
nidānas by the extent to which they serve as indispensable guides to the meaning
of intent of a sutta.”22 Bond’s idea that the nidānas might be useful interpreta-
tive devices to help us with the meaning of the suttas can be seen as an important
advance from an earlier disdain for Buddhaghosa’s nidānas by B. C. Law, who
states, “it goes without saying that the answers given [by nidānas] are legendary,
uncritical, orthodox and childish.” Law does allow that if one can “separate the
grain from the husk” they can offer “historical, geographical, biological, textual
and doctrinal details” that are of interest (we are not told, however, by what criteria
20. Nett 34–35.
21. De Silva, “Introduction” to her edition of Dīghanikāya-aṭṭhakathā-tīkā
Līnatthavaṇṇanā, lxvii.
22. Bond, The Word of the Buddha, 138. Nance translates nidāna (in Indian Mahāyāna texts)
as the “sound basis” used to “index where, when, why, and/or how a teaching is transmitted”
(Speaking for Buddhas, 54; 225 fn 27).
Buddhavacana in the Suttanta 119
we might distinguish what is grain from what is husk).23 As far as I know, however,
no modern scholar has turned to the commentators themselves to learn how they
interpreted the role of the nidānas.
Buddhaghosa’s most comprehensive discussion of the purposes of the canon-
ical nidāna occurs in his nidānas to each of the four nikāyas. He says the nidāna is
“adorned with the time, place, teacher, story, assembly, and region”24 in which the
sutta was given. The Buddha’s teachings are always given to someone, for a particular
reason, in a particular location, at a particular time. Buddhaghosa advances a highly
literary and aesthetic appreciation of the nidāna, as suggested in the following elab-
orate similes that explain what the nidāna does.
Thus far, the nidāna, adorned with time, place, teacher, narrative, assembly,
and region, is spoken by Venerable Ᾱnanda, and the commentary on its
meaning is complete. [It is spoken] for the sake of the ease [or pleasure] of
entering this sutta, which is perfect in meaning and phrasing and indicates
the power of the Buddha’s qualities. The nidāna is:
like a bathing place (tittha), a spot of ground white from strewn sand as
though its surface was spread with pearls, with a bejeweled stairway charming
and resplendent surfaced with flawless stones which is for the ease of entering
a lotus pond of pure, clear, and sweet water sparkling with lotuses and blue
water lilies
like a staircase radiant with the effulgence and flashing of the light of
a mass of gems intertwined with golden creepers, and with soft, delicate
landings made of ivory, for the ease of ascending a splendid palace with
height reaching up as though wishing to touch the paths of the stars, and
encircled by ornamented ledges and well-proportioned walls
like a great door with a wide and well-placed door post, shining majes-
tically with light from gold, silver, gemstones, pearls, corals, etc., for the
ease of entering a great mansion gleaming with the riches of a noble lord, a
house teeming with the sweet voices of laughter and talking mingled with
the sounds of golden anklets and bracelets jangling.25
23. Law, Buddhaghosa, 94.
24. kāladesadesakavatthuparisāpadesapaṭimaṇḍitaṃ nidānaṃ (Sv.i.50; Mp.i.119; Spk.ii.3).
a.iii.536: Ettāvatā ca yaṃ āyasmatā ānandena kamalakuvalayujjal
25. Sv.i.50; Ps.i.15; Pv-
avimalasādhurasasalilāya pokkharaṇiyā sukhāvataraṇatthaṃ nimmalasilātalaracanavilā
sasobhitaratanasopānaṃ, vippakiṇṇamuttātalasadisavālukākiṇṇapaṇḍarabhūmibhāgaṃ
titthaṃ viya suvibhattabhittivicitravedikāparikkhittassa nakkhattapathaṃ phusitukāmatāya
viya, vijambhitasamussayassa pāsādavarassa sukhārohaṇatthaṃ dantamayasaṇhamudup
halakakañcanalatāvinaddhamaṇigaṇappabhāsamudayujjalasobhaṃ sopānaṃ viya, suva
120 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
For anyone who thinks Buddhaghosa is nothing more than a dry-bones pedant of
arid Abhidhamma lists, this literary flourish must surely occasion surprise. And
indeed, his subcommentator Dhammapāla is taken aback: in a rare expression of
impatience with Buddhaghosa, he chides him that this is not a matter for “poetic
composition.”26 What can Buddhaghosa mean by describing the nidāna in such
lavishly poetic terms?
The similes portray the nidāna as a portal, entryway, or steps for the pleasure
or ease (sukha) of entering a sutta. The sutta, in turn, “indicates the power of the
Buddha’s qualities.” The nidānas are beautiful and sparkly thresholds that give us
access to the rich places of the sutta—the gorgeous lotus pond, the lofty palace
brushing the heavens, the magnificent lord’s palace. Buddhaghosa reads a sutta
as an aesthetically stunning place to be entered, and the nidāna that welcomes
us into it is deeply pleasing and exquisitely lovely. The first simile evokes the reli-
giously loaded language of the sacred crossing, the tittha.27 In the second simile,
the nidāna is likened to a staircase up to a magnificent and lofty palace that
reaches heavenward to touch the stars. This image suggests a theme of the infi-
nite: the nidāna is a threshold to something that reaches upward to touch the
immeasurable starry sky. We enter, in the final image in the sequence, a mansion
of a great lord (the mansion and palace are both suggestive of the mansions and
bliss worlds presided over by buddhas that we find in other forms of Buddhism).
This is an appreciation of the sutta that resonates with the extravagant terms
describing sūtras often associated with Mahāyāna textual traditions. By way of
the nidāna the sutta can bring one to the majesty of the Buddha.
The sutta, “perfect in meaning and phrasing,” always “indicates the power of
the Buddha’s qualities.” It is not merely a discursive teaching that can be held
apart from the Buddha, but rather it reveals or illustrates something about the
Buddha himself. And in fact, in his interpretative practice in the commentarial
nidānas that I have read, Buddhaghosa always tries to explain how a sutta and its
ṇṇavalayanūpurādisaṅghaṭṭanasaddasammissitakathitahasitamadhurassaragehajanavic
aritassa uḷārissarivibhavasobhitassa mahāgharassa sukhappavesanatthaṃ suvaṇṇarajata
maṇimuttapavāḷādijutivissaravijjotitasuppatiṭṭhitavisāladvārabāhaṃ mahādvāraṃ viya
ca atthabyañjanasampannassa buddhaguṇānubhāvasaṃsūcakassa imassa suttassa
sukhāvagahaṇatthaṃ kāladesadesakavatthuparisāpadesapaṭimaṇḍitaṃ nidānaṃ bhāsitaṃ,
tassatthavaṇṇanā samattāti.
26. na kabyaracanādi (ṭīkā i.72). See what follows.
27. The idea of the nidāna as a tittha (Sanskrit tīrtha, a crossing place, landing, or the steps
down to a river for bathing) also appears in the commentary on the Khuddakapāṭha (Pj I.157).
The term suggests the many aesthetic and religious qualities of a passageway into pleasure and
purification that we find in Indian religion more broadly. A tīrtha is a sacred space, and in some
conceptions it is the site of initiation into radical transcendence.
Buddhavacana in the Suttanta 121
nidāna reveal the Buddha’s qualities—most often, how it reveals his omniscience.
I give examples in what follows.
With this foray into the poetic and ornate, Buddhaghosa is evoking the beauty
of Ᾱnanda’s nidāna and the way it opens up the rest of the sutta and primes the
reader to encounter the magnificence of the Buddha. He is describing suttas in a
“literary” way (as the comment from Dhammapāla notes): suttas can be read for
pleasure and beauty and for the worlds they evoke or even constitute. The nidāna
plays an important aesthetic role in preparing the imagination for entering the
sutta perceptive to the beauty and pleasurable delight he associates with faith in
the Buddha. We have seen him elsewhere being quite explicit about this. Recall
that everything the Buddha said was “beautiful in the beginning, beautiful in the
middle, and beautiful at the end.” Here he follows through on the first part of his
claim that a sutta is beautiful in the beginning in its nidāna, at the end in its con-
clusion, and in the middle in the rest in between.28
I think Buddhaghosa’s literary and aesthetic choices about how to depict the
purposes of the nidāna can be cast into stronger relief if we contrast them with
Dhammapāla’s choices. We have already noted his disapproval of Buddhaghosa’s
poetic extravagance. He prefers to see the nidāna instead as establishing the
authority and authenticity of the teaching. He asks quite pointedly why the
nidāna is even necessary:
Why did they create a nidāna at the First Council for the Dhamma and
Vinaya, when surely only the Buddha’s words should be recited?
It was for the purpose of establishing the stable, unconfused, and cred-
ible nature of the teaching recited. For a teaching connected to a time,
place, teacher, story, and the recipient of the Dhamma is a long-lasting,
unconfused doctrine, and credible, like a legal contract provided with
notations of place, date, maker, and witnesses.29
His primary concern in these remarks is with the way the nidāna demonstrates
the authenticity of a sutta. Details of its original context anchor it to the First
Council and to the authority ultimately of the Buddha, and they work like the
particular notations of witnesses, and so forth, for business and legal contracts.
This approach is markedly different in tone from that of Buddhaghosa, who does
not connect the nidāna in this way with the authority and credibility of textual
transmission.
But Dhammapāla goes on to say the nidāna also reveals the qualities of the
Buddha, with an emphasis, as with Buddhaghosa, on the Buddha’s omniscience.
The nidāna shows the way the Buddha spoke—extemporaneously and without
relying on argumentation or authoritative texts. Rather he spoke from his omnis-
cience, defined always as his capacity to penetrate all things without obstacle. The
nidāna is the demonstration of this.
Dhammapāla goes on to say that the nidāna demonstrates the Buddha’s ac-
complishment “because it shows the teaching of the Dhamma with his on-the-
spot intelligence about the inclinations of the audience present.”31 It speaks
specifically to the particular audience and their particular needs. And the nidāna
reveals the accomplishment of the Teacher in other ways too:
This statement shows how the Buddha’s teachings were oriented to his audience,
and delivered entirely for its benefit. Since the nidāna describes that audience, it
displays precisely how the sermon was beneficial to them, something we would
not know without the details of the story. Since the nidāna is illuminating this
fundamental nature of the Buddha and his teaching, it is a matter too serious,
Dhammapāla thinks, to discuss in the poetic terms that Buddhaghosa does. Since
Dhammapāla thinks that the nidāna has two purposes—showing authoritative-
ness (pamāṇa) of the Buddha and the Dispensation and showing the Buddha’s
accomplishment (siddhi)33—these need to be clearly, and prosaically, stated.
Yet in his own way, Dhammapāla also resists totality and allows for the infinite.
In his final comments on this matter he wants to keep the range of possibilities
open for what a nidāna can do: he modestly suggests that he has “shown merely
the beginning of the purpose of the nidāna; for who is able to elucidate fully the
purposes of the nidāna spoken by the Treasurer of the Dhamma (i.e., Ᾱnanda)
whose awakening followed that of the Buddha himself ?”34
While there is an important difference in their styles in talking about the
purpose of the nidāna, Buddhaghosa and Dhammapāla share the idea that it
demonstrates the Buddha’s omniscience in action. As he demonstrates in his
practice in his commentarial nidānas, Buddhaghosa suggests that the nidāna
shows the Buddha’s infinite knowledge of beings in their particularity. Walters
is right that the nidāna creates an extraordinary Buddha. But there is a ration-
ality to this extraordinary buddhology about which the commentators are
quite reflective: the extraordinariness of the Buddha lies in the precise workings
of his omniscient ken and the task of the interpreter is to learn how to discern
those workings. In the literary interpretations of the nidānas the omniscience is
expressed in how the Buddha speaks to the particulars of his original audience.
35. Bhikkhu Bodhi has a wonderful translation of this sutta, its commentary, and its
subcommentary, that the reader is urged to read to see the many layered exegetical moves in
detail (The Great Discourse on Causation: The Mahānidāna Sutta and Its Commentaries).
36. Sv ii.485: So kiñcāpi pakatiyāva ekadivase satavārampi sahassavārampi bhagavantaṃ
upasaṅkamanto na ahetuakāraṇena upasaṅkamati, taṃ divasaṃ pana imaṃ pañhaṃ gahetvā.
37. D ii.55: Yāva gambhīro cāyaṃ, bhante, paṭiccasamuppādo gambhīrāvabhāso ca, atha ca pana
me uttānakuttānako viya khāyatī’’ti.
38. Sv ii.488: pubbūpanissayasampattiyā, titthavāsena, sotāpannatāya, bahussutabhāvenāti.
126 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
means that Ᾱnanda had “supporting conditions from the past” that make it
possible for him now to discern the workings of conditionality, he steps out of
the everyday time frame to locate these conditions in a lifetime that occurred
100,000 aeons ago when Ᾱnanda was the younger brother of the Buddha
Padumuttara (the buddha at that time); his attendance on that buddha made
possible this moment of knowing even a deep teaching with reasonable clarity.39
Buddhaghosa effortlessly weaves the charmingly quotidian with the dazzlingly
cosmic in the same narrative moment. Moreover, one comes to see in the
narrative just how much the past, even the remote past, is a condition for a pre-
sent occasion—the narrative context replicates and enacts the philosophical
teaching that follows concerning the precise workings of conditionality in de-
pendent origination.
This is a demonstration in brief; to demonstrate in detail how these features
work requires dwelling on the particularities of multiple nidānas. These are often
richly drawn where each detail is important, and Buddhaghosa’s exegeses can be
lengthy. Arguments about the particular can only proceed by way of examples of
those particulars. In an important sense the best demonstration for how this works
is reading many suttas and their commentaries, as Buddhaghosa’s nidānas them-
selves illustrate what he thinks exegesis should look like. I content myself with here
focusing on two extended examples, which I cannot treat exhaustively, but which
we can begin to explore with some depth by drawing the reader’s attention to some
of his devices. Buddhaghosa’s nidāna on the Brahmajāla Sutta offers a complex
treatment of the narrative particulars prompting a sermon, and his discussion of the
Mūlapariyāya Sutta provides an intriguing reception of a sermon.
39. Sv ii.488–92.
Buddhavacana in the Suttanta 127
sixty-two views.”40 We shall come to see how the Buddha’s treatment of views
reveals his omniscience.
The Brahmajāla begins with an encounter with a rival ascetic Suppiya, who
disparages the Buddha even while his own student praises him. The Buddha’s dis-
ciples discuss this praise and blame, prompting the Buddha to give a teaching
that begins with the importance of not heeding either. Praise of a teacher is often
rather shallow, based as it is on “minor” matters of morality instead of the knowl
edge of the sixty-two viewpoints the Buddha goes on to describe. The Buddha’s
understanding that transcends all sixty-two viewpoints is his not insignificant
insight about the “basis” of views (diṭṭhiṭṭhāna): views are ideological positions
grounded in and conditioned by feeling (vedanā). Underneath the grasping
and promoting of metaphysical positions is affective experience. Because he
understands the way that feelings condition views and he knows the future states
to which they lead, the Buddha catches all views in his “net” (jāla), and so this
sutta is called “the sublime net” (brahmajāla).
The sutta says that what the Tathāgata understands about the sixty-two views
is that they are grasped and held tight out of feeling.
The insight achieved by the Buddha is that those who promote metaphysical
views do so driven by feeling: we feel attached to our views. The sutta does not
refute the propositional content of the sixty-two views described in the sutta,
but instead points out the inability of those who would hold fast to views to
recognize, as the Buddha does, their conditioned nature—the ways they are
felt or experienced (vedayita). (Anticipating the next chapter, we can suggest
that the Buddha has achieved the Abhidhammic perspective that can see the
structures in the felt experience of holding metaphysical views: feeling [vedanā]
is a key Abhidhamma category.) Other scholars too have noted that the sutta
is interested in the affective or “psychological underpinnings” of holding and
promoting views, as Anālayo puts it,42 and exposing the subjectivity involved
in advancing truth claims that purport to be objective and independent of the
subject holding them, as Evans sees it.43 Similarly, in his reading, Buddhaghosa
emphasizes the sutta’s message that grasping and holding views is conditioned
by other processes. He says that there are eight kinds of “bases of views which
are the causes of views” and enumerates them as “the aggregates, ignorance, con-
tact, cognizing, initial thought, lack of careful attention, wicked friends, and the
voice of another.”44
And so the Buddha knows where each view comes from and where it leads.
The holding of each view, according to the sutta, entails very specific consequences
(“certain future conditions”); it leads to constraints and distortions in one’s un-
derstanding and circumscribes the limits of where one can be reborn in the af-
terlife (after describing each view, the Buddha says where adherents of that view
will go after death). What the Brahmajāla captures in its net is the conditions and
results of holding fast to the sixty-two views that collectively constitute the com-
plete stock of metaphysical dogmas. The net of views captures and traps people
in saṃsāra, and it is itself a consequence of being trapped by feeling. Notice,
too, that the passage asserts the Buddha’s own freedom from even this higher
knowledge: he understands the conditionality of views and transcends these
conditions, but he does not himself hold fast to that higher understanding that
sees vedanā at work in them.
Buddhaghosa interprets the sermon to reveal the workings of Buddha’s
omniscience. This is evident in his reading of this key passage that is repeated
several times in the sutta:
There are, monks, other dhammas, deep, difficult to see, difficult to un-
derstand, peaceful, lofty, beyond the sphere of reasoning, subtle, experi-
enced by the wise, which the Tathāgata, having experienced himself with
his own higher knowledge, makes known. It is due to these that those
speaking rightly would speak true praise of the Tathāgata.45
This passage is drawing on the contrast between the minor points of morality for
which teachers are often praised in contrast to the deeper, rarer dhammas taught
by the Tathāgata. The question is what dhammas means here. At first glance it
would seem to refer to the Abhidhamma categories of phenomena, like vedanā,
that describe experience. But while acknowledging that dhamma has several
different meanings including this one, Buddhaghosa says that here it means qual-
ities (guṇa), and specifically, the Buddha’s qualities:
But which are these qualities praised thus by the Bhagavan? The knowl
edge of omniscience.47
45. D i.12, 17, 22, 29, 39: atthi, bhikkhave, aññeva dhammā gambhīrā duddasā duranubodhā
santā paṇītā atakkāvacarā nipuṇā paṇḍitavedanīyā, ye tathāgato sayaṃ abhiññā sacchikatvā
pavedeti, yehi tathāgatassa yathābhuccaṃ vaṇṇaṃ sammā vadamānā vadeyyuṃ.
46. Sv i.99: ‘‘Dhammaṃ, vo bhikkhave, desessāmi ādikalyāṇa’’ntiādīsu (ma. ni. 3.420)
desanāyaṃ. ‘‘Idha bhikkhu dhammaṃ pariyāpuṇāti suttaṃ, geyya’’ntiādīsu (a. ni. 5.73)
pariyattiyaṃ. ‘‘Tasmiṃ kho pana samaye dhammā honti, khandhā hontī’’tiādīsu (dha. sa.
121) nissatte. Idha pana guṇe vattati. Tasmā atthi, bhikkhave, aññeva tathāgatassa guṇāti
evamettha attho daṭṭhabbo.
47. Sv i.99: Katame ca pana te dhammā bhagavatā evaṃ thomitāti? Sabbaññutaññāṇaṃ.
Buddhaghosa acknowledges that the term dhammā is in the plural, and omniscience is stated
in the singular. But since omniscience takes different forms, and has multiple objects, it can be
referred to in the plural (Sv i.99–100: Katame ca pana te dhammā bhagavatā evaṃ thomitāti?
Sabbaññutaññāṇaṃ. Yadi evaṃ, kasmā bahuvacananiddeso katoti? Puthucittasamāyogato ceva,
puthuārammaṇato ca).
130 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
This is to say that in the canonical praise, the Bhagavan is praising his own quality
of omniscience, which is “deep, difficult to see, difficult to understand, peaceful,
lofty, beyond the sphere of reasoning, subtle, experienced by the wise” to quote
the original verse. In this way, Buddhaghosa shows how the insight the Buddha
had about the basis of views is the enactment of his omniscient mind.
At several other key junctures Buddhaghosa reads the sermon as demonstrating
the Buddha’s omniscience. First, he argues that there are four occasions in par-
ticular that demonstrate the unique ken of the Tathāgata: (1) the declaration of
the Vinaya; (2) the [classification of phenomena] according to plane (which he
takes to be Abhidhamma knowledge); (3) the workings of conditionality (that
is, dependent origination); and (4) the different views.48 We briefly considered
the workings of conditionality earlier in the Mahānidāna Sutta, and of course
omniscience’s workings in the Abhidhamma knowledge and the Vinaya rules are
explored in the next two chapters. The Brahmajāla Sutta exemplifies the fourth
occasion, the Buddha’s unlimited capacity to understand views and what grounds
them. Its purpose is to illuminate this aspect of the Buddha’s knowing:
Buddhaghosa argues here that the sermon allows one to begin to understand
the magnitude of the Buddha’s knowledge and to “enter” into it. This pro-
found teaching is a didactic exercise in demonstrating emptiness and the three
characteristics—impermanence, suffering, and lack of self—perceivable in expe-
rience. Reiterating this, he argues elsewhere that the structure of the Brahmajāla
is “to start with views and conclude with making known emptiness.”50 This survey
48. Sv i.100; ii.485: “On four occasions the thundering of buddhas becomes great, their knowl
edge is approached, their magnitude is understood, and their teaching stamped with the three
characteristics [of saṃsāra] and connected to emptiness, becomes deep. What are these? His
declaring the Vinaya, the planes of existence, the workings of conditionality, and the differences
of doctrines” (Buddhānañhi cattāri ṭhānāni patvā gajjitaṃ mahantaṃ hoti, ñāṇaṃ anupavisati,
buddhañāṇassa mahantabhāvo paññāyati, desanā gambhīrā hoti, tilakkhaṇāhatā, suññatāpaṭi
saṃyuttā. Katamāni cattāri? Vinayapaññattiṃ, bhūmantaraṃ, paccayākāraṃ, samayantaranti).
49. Sv i.102: Iti samayantaraṃ patvā buddhānaṃ gajjitaṃ mahantaṃ hoti, ñāṇaṃ
anupavisati, buddhañāṇassa mahantatā paññāyati, desanā gambhīrā hoti, tilakkhaṇāhatā,
suññatāpaṭisaṃyuttāti.
50. Sv i.123: Imasmimpi brahmajāle heṭṭhā diṭṭhivasena desanā uṭṭhitā, upari suññatāpakāsanaṃ
āgataṃ.
Buddhavacana in the Suttanta 131
Although the sutta itself suggests the way the Buddha “has so thoroughly
penetrated the diversity in the dispositions of beings,” his knowledge of the
inclinations of others is not cited by Buddhaghosa as the official precipitating
cause (suttanikhepa) of the sutta; rather it is this “specific incident” of the dispar-
agement of Suppiya and the praise of Brahmadatta that got the sermon rolling.54
This is because the Buddha begins his sermon with urging his disciples to disre-
gard both disparagement and praise. The sutta then teaches a teaching on mor
ality (as the sort of “trifling and mundane” reasons a teacher might be found
praiseworthy55) and then the long enumeration of the sixty-two speculative views
available in the world, all of which the Buddha has transcended (and which make
his ken truly superlative, as we saw earlier).
Thus far, Buddhaghosa’s reading appears to be drawing out implications of
the sutta itself. The canonical nidāna sets out the opportunity for the Buddha
to expound the insignificance of praise and blame and ultimately to dazzle the
world with a demonstration of his knowledge of what undergirds the promotion
of sixty-two dogmas. But as we go deeper into the commentarial nidāna—the
flesh that Buddhaghosa puts on to the opening frame story—we come to see how
the Buddha’s sermon is interpreted as speaking pointedly and specifically to its
context.
Buddhaghosa takes great care to fill in the particulars of the story with
Suppiya, which we can only touch on here. According to Buddhaghosa, Suppiya
was a student of Sañjaya, an important teacher who was fast losing most of his dis-
ciples to the Buddha, most notably Sāriputta and Moggallāna. If he had known
he would fall in behind the Buddha on that road, he would have found another
way to go, Buddhaghosa tells us, for he is subjected to the astounding spectacle of
the Buddha lit up in multihued rays that radiate outward eighty feet all around
illuminating the ground with sparkling light as though strewing it with gems and
gemstone dust. The Blessed One is surrounded by a huge host of most estimable
disciples, gracious and composed in manner, altogether forming a beautiful and
glorious sight the splendor of which prompts Buddhaghosa to dilate at consider-
able length with many similes from the tiny—he was “like a filament (of a lotus
flower) surrounded by petals”—up to the vast—he was like the Great Brahmā
surrounded by the multitude of Brahmā deities.56 On full display is the cosmic
54. Sv i.51.
55. Morality (sīla) as defined here is a matter merely of avoiding violating the five precepts and
other problematic actions and is thus the least a teacher can do to be found praiseworthy; it
is nowhere as impressive as the knowledge of the affective underpinnings of views, which is
unique to the Tathāgata. As Buddhaghosa puts it: “sīla is said to be trifling and mundane and
so much inferior only in comparison with much higher qualities” (Evameva upari upari guṇe
upādāya heṭṭhā heṭṭhā sīlaṃ appamattakaṃ oramattakanti veditabbaṃ [Sv i.59]).
56. This paragraph paraphrases and condenses the descriptions given in Sv i.39–40.
Buddhavacana in the Suttanta 133
and spectacular Buddha, even as the two rival parties traverse the dusty road to
Nālandā.
Suppiya finds his own retinue uninspired and pathetic in contrast; at a
moment in which he might have praised the Blessed One, he instead is consumed
with envy. Later in the rest house that night he notices again the graceful bearing
of the Buddha’s disciples, and “appraising his own followers,” finds “some of them
tossing hands about, others [tossing] feet, some prattling nonsense, others loose-
tongued or drooling, some gnashing teeth, others snoring.”57 Buddhaghosa says
that Suppiya voiced very specific dispraises, casting aspersions on the Buddha’s
claims of omniscience and attainment, and accusing him of violating social
norms, lacking taste, being worthless, an annihilationist, a nihilist, and so on. To
add insult to injury, Suppiya’s own disciple Brahmadatta offers up a spirited de-
fense of the Buddha, demonstrating, as Buddhaghosa sees it, a lively independ
ence from his teacher.58
Suppiya’s dispraise is explained somewhat obliquely by the teachings of the
sutta that describe how specific dogmas lead to further distortion and unfor-
tunate results. His teacher, Sañjaya, is said elsewhere to be an “eel-wriggler,” an
adherent of one of the sixty-two positions the Buddha describes.59 Eel-wrigglers
come by their endless equivocation and skepticism variously, but one way they
embrace it is simply by their stupidity,60 which is said to be how Sañjaya came by
his.61 Suppiya’s failure to recognize the Buddha’s qualities and instead to falsely
and stupidly disparage him is thus accounted for, though neither the sutta nor
Buddhaghosa is so indelicate as to point this out directly (though Dhammapāla
does not hesitate to make the connection62).
But what seems to capture Buddhaghosa’s particular notice is the way the
monks discussing Suppiya the next morning marvel that the Buddha is one
57. Sv i.42: Paribbājako taṃ vibhūtiṃ disvā attano parisaṃ olokesi. Tattha keci hatthaṃ
khipanti, keci pādaṃ, keci vippalapanti, keci nillālitajivhā paggharitakheḷā, dante khādantā
kākacchamānā gharugharupassāsino sayanti.
58. These details are given in Bhikkhu Bodhi’s summary translation of the commentary, The
All-Embracing Net of Views, 90–94.
59. Bodhi, The All-Embracing Net of Views, 170.
60. D i.26–29.
61. The sutta immediately following the Brahmajāla, the Sāmaññaphala (D i.59–60) describes
Sañjaya’s equivocations and evasions as a result of his being the “most stupid and confused” of
all ascetics and Brahmins in King Ajātasattu’s estimation.
62. Dīgha ṭīkā i.215.
134 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
“who knows and sees.” This means that “he knows the biases and inclinations
of each and every being” and “he sees every knowable phenomenon as if it were
an āmalaka fruit held in the palm of his hand.”63 This inspires a list of features
of the Buddha’s omniscience, including his knowledge of all beings’ past lives,
the three knowledges, and other stock descriptions of omniscience. Buddhaghosa
also notes that the Buddha knows the very particular causal conditions that lead
beings to encounter one another, a knowledge quite astonishing given the diver-
sity of beings and how they may come into connection with each other.
In this way the Buddha knows, and knows thoroughly, with his om-
niscient knowledge the various aspirations, dispositions, undertakings,
desires, and wishes of beings as though they were lengths [known] with
a measure, or weights [known] with a scale. For it is hard to find even
two beings with the same disposition in this world. If one wants to
go, the other wants to stay, and if one wants to drink, the other wants
to eat.64
63. Sv i.43: tena bhagavatā tesaṃ tesaṃ sattānaṃ āsayānusayaṃ jānatā, hatthatale ṭhapitaṃ
āmalakaṃ viya sabbañeyyadhammaṃ passatā.
64. Sv i.44: evaṃ sattānaṃ nānādhimuttikatā, nānajjhāsayatā, nānādiṭṭhikatā, nānākhantitā,
nānārucitā, nāḷiyā minantena viya tulāya tulayantena viya ca nānādhimuttikatāñāṇena
sabbaññutaññāṇena viditā, sā yāva suppaṭividitā. Dvepi nāma sattā ekajjhāsayā dullabhā
lokasmiṃ. Ekasmiṃ gantukāme eko ṭhātukāmo hoti, ekasmiṃ pivitukāme eko bhuñjitukāmo.
65. Sv ii.509.
Buddhavacana in the Suttanta 135
about.66 (This is a common theme: the Buddha asks what people are talking
about, but of course he already knows.) And in fact, the Buddha approaches the
monks because he realized that, though they were discussing his omniscience,
the “workings of omniscience are not clear to them,” and so he can now demon-
strate them.67 Omniscience is something that has to be demonstrated through
its workings and applications, and this is an opportune moment for doing so.
At this point, Buddhaghosa launches into a very specific account of the exact
happenings the night before, when it occurred to the Buddha what the disci-
ples would be discussing the following morning. Buddhaghosa goes on for sev-
eral pages describing the Buddha’s daily routine, where each day is broken into
five parts, and his activities during the morning, afternoon, and nighttime (itself
divided into three watches).68 We learn when he ate, went for alms, rested, re-
ceived offerings of reverence, held audiences, taught the Dhamma, had his feet
washed, bathed, and so on. Intriguingly the Buddha never sleeps even at night,
but at certain junctures he lies on his right side, fully aware, and rests to refresh his
body. But why is any of this relevant? Because Buddhaghosa is curious about the
exact moment in his daily routine that the Buddha came to know, with his omnis-
cience, what the disciples were talking about. In fact, this occurred in the very last
watch of the night, while he was walking up and down a path that was part of his
usual routine of pacing back and forth to work out the aches of the day. Having
discerned what they are talking about, he resolves to give the “lion’s roar” of the
Brahmajāla Sutta, as though lifting up Mount Sumeru itself.69
This demonstration of omniscience is concerned to situate it in the eve-
ryday life of the Buddha, the “specific incident” that prompts it. The context is
maximized through several pages of exacting detail to prepare the reader to receive
the miraculous nature of the occasion of this omniscient knowing. It is all very well,
Buddhaghosa seems to suggest, to claim omniscience for the Buddha, but what
did this kind of knowing actually look like in the course of the Buddha’s workaday
life? What was he actually doing when this knowledge hit him? Buddhaghosa
makes it immediate and real through his supplementary nidāna with its specificity.
We can leave the story here, but before doing so it is worth recapping the
various ways that the nidāna furthers the canonical sutta’s demonstration or
66. D i.2: bhagavā tesaṃ bhikkhūnaṃ imaṃ saṅkhiyadhammaṃ viditvā. The commentary says
that he knew this by his omniscience (Sv i.44: ettha viditvāti sabbaññutaññāṇena jānitvā).
67. “These monks are discussing my qualities beginning with the knowledge of omnis-
cience. But the workings of the knowledge of omniscience are not clear to them as they
are to me” (ime bhikkhū mayhaṃ sabbaññutaññāṇaṃ ārabbha guṇaṃ kathenti, etesañca
sabbaññutaññāṇakiccaṃ na pākaṭaṃ, mayhameva pākaṭaṃ[ Sv i.48]).
68. Sv i.44–48. See Bodhi, The All-Embracing Net of Views, 97–101.
69. Sv i.48.
136 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
70. M i.1.
71. M i.6. I am grateful to my student, Hope Wen, for drawing my notice to this passage.
Buddhavacana in the Suttanta 137
formulaic rejoicing at his words ending many suttas. We might note the impact
this device has on the reader: there appears nothing in the sutta at first reading
that would seem to provoke dismay. But everything changes in our reading when
we learn that the sermon met with displeasure; we find we must go back to the
sutta and look again. What about the Buddha’s words to these monks triggers
this response?
The sutta itself does not tell us, but Buddhaghosa does. He of course notices the
dismay in which the teaching was received and provides ample context and explica-
tion to make sense of it. He says that of the four reasons prompting a sutta, this one
(like the Brahmajāla) was occasioned by “a specific incident.” This was the “arising
of conceit due to learning”;72 in his telling, the monks addressed by the sutta were a
group of five hundred former Brahmins who had mastered the three Vedas; as monks,
they mastered the entire word of the Buddha, and had thus grown conceited.73 They
assured themselves that because they understood the language and grammar of the
Buddha’s teachings, there was nothing confusing in them that they did not grasp.
Due to this conceit they failed to listen and attend to the Buddha properly, and he,
“knowing the course of their thoughts,” decided to teach the Mūlapariyāya Sutta to
break down their conceit.74
The teaching he gave them shows the very subtle distortions that occur even
at the level of perception in how an “ordinary person” perceives experience. The
Buddha describes how the ordinary person, the learner, the arhat, and the Tathāgata
each perceive and conceive of the twenty “bases” or fields of experience. For example,
the first four of these twenty-four bases are the primary elements, earth, water, fire,
and air, where the earth element, as Buddhaghosa explains it, can be perceived as
the formation of one’s body or other physical things in the world. For the ordinary
person, the distortive lens of conceptuality alters the experience of earth. According
to the sutta, the ordinary person
As the modern interpreter Bhikkhu Bodhi explains, this describes the subtle ways
conceiving “turns out to be a double process of identification and appropriation”
as the object of experience is refracted and distorted through the self. Since the
self “lacks foundation” the resulting conception is false and confused, bringing
disappointment and suffering in its wake.76 Buddhaghosa explains that the
distortions occurring at this level of cognizing and conceiving are the result of the
“craving, conceit, and wrong views”77 that proliferate in the ordinary person and
inflect our most basic apprehension of the world. The rest of the sutta applies this
formula to the entire field of experience as it is divided into twenty-four different
bases. And it contrasts this basic distortion in the ordinary person with the expe-
rience of the learner, the arhat, and the Tathāgatha, all of whom, the text claims,
“directly know” (rather than cognize) the object of experience, and the latter two
of whom are free entirely of any distorting tendencies.
What was it about this message that was so dismaying to the five hundred
learned monks? Buddhaghosa says that the sutta was spoken illustrating the
Buddha’s “supremely deep knowledge of omniscience which does not yield a foot-
hold to the wisdom of others.”78 Though the teaching had great “eloquence and
various methods,” and even though the Buddha had fulfilled the perfections for
four immeasurable and a hundred thousand aeons to obtain omniscience pre-
cisely so that he could explain to others the Dhamma in a way they could grasp it,
these monks did not understand this teaching.79 This was due to the conceit that
obstructed the capacity for them to understand a teaching about the roots of their
own experience. Their extensive erudition generated the conceit that blocked
75. M i.1: pathaviṃ pathavito sañjānāti; pathaviṃ pathavito saññatvā pathaviṃ maññati,
pathaviyā maññati, pathavito maññati, pathaviṃ meti maññati, pathaviṃ abhinandati. Taṃ
kissa hetu? ‘Apariññātaṃ tassā’ti vadāmi. See also Bodhi, trans., The Discourse on the Root of
Existence, 27 (M i.1). I prefer “cognize” and “cognition” for sañjānāti and saññā, though they
are often translated as “perceiving” and “perception,” because of the recognizing and naming
that goes on in this cognitive process.
76. Bodhi, trans., The Discourse on the Root of Existence, 12.
77. Ps i.25: taṇhāmānadiṭṭhipapañcehi. See Bodhi, trans., The Discourse on the Root of
Existence, 47–48.
78. This is Bhikkhu Bodhi’s translation, The Discourse on the Root of Existence, 82 (Ps i.55).
79. Ps i.56: vicitranayadesanāvilāsayuttampi. . . . Nanu ca bhagavā attanā desitaṃ dhammaṃ
pare ñāpetuṃ kappasatasahassādhikāni cattāri asaṅkhyeyyāni pāramiyo pūretvā sabbaññutaṃ
patto. So kasmā yathā te na jānanti, tathā desesīti.
Buddhavacana in the Suttanta 139
their capacity to understand, and so the sutta put before them was like “permitted
food placed before someone whose mouth was bound with a thick, wide cloth.”80
The Buddha knew this would happen and that this experience would shatter their
conceit, and so he taught it for this “special incident.” And indeed, the monks are
horrified at their failure to understand, and they slink away. As for us, the readers
(as coached by Buddhaghosa), we are in a position to simultaneously grasp the
philosophical point of the sutta (about the subtle but pervasive distortions—like
conceit—that confound our grasp of our own experience) and to see it enacted in
the so-called learned monks, whose conceit reveals them to be the very ordinary
persons described in the sutta. The frame story performs the sermon, as it were.
Buddhaghosa goes further to explain context. The episode, he says, is widely
discussed among other monks, who in turn prompt the Buddha to describe
“the story of the past” that relates the back story of these monks. It seems that
these five hundred monks were, in a previous life, Brahmin youths who similarly
tripped over their conceit in their inability to solve a riddle posed by their teacher
(who was of course the Bodhisatta in that previous life). Buddhaghosa also tells
a story of the future of these monks, where after having been humbled by this
occasion described in the Mūlapariyāya Sutta, they are at a later time open to the
Buddha’s teaching in a new way and are given the Gotamaka Sutta, a teaching
that pleases them greatly, and they become arhats!81 This sequel sutta describes
the Buddha as teaching via “direct knowledge” and instructs its audience to re-
joice, be delighted, and full of joy.82 In Buddhaghosa’s reading, the Gotamaka
Sutta in this way recalls the Mūlapariyāya Sutta and speaks to it, offering an ulti-
mately successful conclusion to its disquieting ending.
This rather grand edifice of context—none of it present in the actual sutta
itself—depicts the sutta as a calculated intervention rather than (just) a decla-
ration of doctrine. It is an intervention located in an expansive narrative of time
stretching from a distant past life of these monks to the future trajectory of their
awakening. The context also includes another sutta, revealing a larger intertextual
“whole” of which this sutta is just one part. Above all, as Buddhaghosa reminds
us throughout his interpretation, it is an illustration of the keen subtlety of the
workings of the Buddha’s omniscience. The genius of the event of the sutta is
that it once again displays the Buddha’s unimpeded knowledge of particulars,
80. Ps i.56: etaṃ suttaṃ ghanaputhulena dussapaṭṭena mukhe bandhaṃ katvā purato
ṭhapitamanuññabhojanaṃ viya ahosi.
81. Ps i.59.
82. A i.276. See Bodhi, trans. The Numerical Discourses of the Buddha: A Translation of the
Aṅguttara Nikāya (Boston: Wisdom Publications, 2012): 355–56.
140 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
the previous lives, the inclinations, the intellectual and emotional needs, and the
future trajectories of the particular individuals whom the Buddha encounters.
The contents of the sutta—how the intricate roots of craving, confused view, and
most palpably here, conceit, distort experience—is enacted explicitly by the very
monks to whom it is delivered. The conceit that confounds their understanding
is made apparent to them by a teaching that they think they already understand.
We would of course miss all of this if we did the usual modern practice of noting
only the fractured text in focusing on the sermon apart from its nidāna or its
commentary.
Bhikkhu Bodhi offers a somewhat different interpretation than
Buddhaghosa does, equally fascinating, that in fact it is not that the monks
did not understand the teaching, but that “they understood it too well.” What
displeased them was the way the sutta dismantles the self and shows the roots
of experience as lacking this supposed foundation. He cites a passage from the
Bṛhadāraṇyaka Upaniṣad that offers a striking parallel to this sutta, though of
course locating the foundation of experience in the self.83 Also interpreting
the Mūlapariyāya in terms of the broader intellectual context of ancient
India, Thanissaro Bhikkhu argues that this sutta is meant to respond to the
Sāṃkhya system of metaphysics.84 We need not decide among these various
interpretations. I note only the contrast in which these modern historicist her-
meneutics go outside the Pali textual world for a context to “explain” the sutta,
where Buddhaghosa’s interpretive context is located entirely within the Pali
imaginaire.
The literary imagination that takes in what the sermon does to the five hun-
dred monks to whom it is addressed does something interesting also to the
reader: to appreciate how and why these monks are upset by the sermon requires
a philosophical engagement with the nuances of the teaching, as well as with
these particular people. The narrative reception of a sutta is a “cue” for readerly
response. At one level when understood in its grander narrative frame, the monks
come off as rather ridiculous—the usual motif of the arrogant Brahmins whose
conceit confounds their understanding of Buddhism’s deeper truths. But the
reader who had to “look again” at the sutta to figure out what about it was offen-
sive to them even with the aid of the larger narrative about the conceit of ordi-
nary persons, realizes that perhaps she, the reader, did not get the subtlety and,
more importantly, the existential significance of the sutta either at first reading.
In so far as the reception of a sutta is a cue for the reader’s experience, then the
disquiet engendered by the sutta, and the story, can prompt a turn inward. Nor
are we permitted, within Buddhaghosa’s narrative of it, to remain self-satisfied
and smug about these former Brahmin monks with all their superior “learning”
getting humbled, because of the future: these monks are conditioned by this sutta
to attain insight by a future intervention, the Gotamaka Sutta, where their turna-
round is a matter for rejoicing. There is something deeply humane in this literary
reading whereby readers come to see how others’ (and perhaps their own) conceit
can be dismantled in a way that leads eventually to future triumph.
Conclusions
The foregoing has suggested that for Buddhaghosa the nidāna is an interpretative
method for going deeper into the Buddha’s omniscience. We have attended to the
“concentric nests” that A. K. Ramanujan argues house many Indian conceptions,
and can observe with him that a teaching’s “poignancy is partly in its frame.”85
The frame stories demonstrate the particular capacity of the Buddha’s omniscient
mind that speaks from and to individual contexts in their potentially infinite
particulars and singularity. In the Suttanta, philosophy is a dialogical practice
built into the biographical narratives of the Buddha and the cast of characters
that the texts and commentaries portray in rich literary detail.
Buddhaghosa’s attention to the nidāna can show concretely the manner in
which the Dhamma spoken by the Buddha is always “well-spoken.” The narrative
specificity of the contextual frame performs what it means to say that the Buddha’s
well-spoken utterances are “visible here and now, timeless, inviting one to come
and see, leading forward, and to be experienced by the wise for themselves.”86 His
appreciation of how suttas are “visible here and now” suggests a literary sensi-
bility in which the specificity of everyday life becomes a method to glimpse the
workings of the Buddha’s omniscient mind. We find in this specificity and singu-
larity particular instances of the unobstructed nature of his knowledge of beings.
Buddhaghosa is interested in the aesthetic power of the narrative frame because
he sees how it can evoke the deeper and richer poignancy of the teaching that
aims to be existentially transformative to the ideal reader.
The suttas considered here give teachings as interventions in dialogical and
pedagogical contexts. Philosophy can be a “way of life” as well as disembodied
treatises; the recent turn initiated by Pierre Hadot in exploring how the ancients
in the West saw philosophy as inseparable from actual life makes the relevance
of biography and narrative obvious.87 The frame stories of the suttas are bio-
graphical: they recount episodes in the Buddha’s long teaching career as well as
interventions in particular peoples’ lives. Philosophy is a discursive practice to be
engaged in with others. And the Buddha is revealed as the much acclaimed “good
friend” whose pedagogical friendship is highly extolled throughout the texts.
As we have seen, the Brahmajāla Sutta gives a sermon about the Buddha’s
views of views; in its own terms the content of the sermon demonstrates the
Buddha’s capacity to survey all views that there are and to see how the advancing
of metaphysical positions is conditioned by feelings, and how it leads to further
entrapment in saṃsāra. Adhering to dogmatic views has causes and conditions
and leads to specific consequences in this life and the next. This general insight
is driven home by the story of Suppiya in which the sermon is nested: Suppiya’s
confusion about the Buddha is rooted in a set of conditions that generate a series
of predictable outcomes explained by the sutta and enacted by the frame story.
Both the sermon and the specific instance to which it speaks demonstrate what
it is that the Buddha “knows and sees.” He sees the long arc of experience and the
scope of views that are conditioned by recurrent patterns of feeling. His interven-
tion to his disciples affords them—and the reader—a glimpse of the kind of om-
niscient mind that can see both the particular patterns of views and the universal
patterns in how views are formed and held.
The Mūlapariyāya Sutta is, in Buddhaghosa’s reading, perhaps an even more
dramatic intervention, at least in the lives of those to whom it is addressed. It
demonstrates that study is not always adequate to the Buddhist life in that the ar-
rogant Brahmins needed the Buddha’s skillful and highly unpleasant dismantling
of their conceit. Conceit so deeply hidden and so long habituated is obscure
to them and can be confronted and addressed only through a discomfiting en-
counter with the Buddha. We can see here what Richard Shusterman describes
as the pitfalls of solitary introspection where “one’s view of oneself is always par-
tial in both sense of ‘biased’ and ‘incomplete.’ ”88 He elaborates: “the depths of
one’s soul, the complex layers, quirks, and weaknesses of one’s personality are
hardly transparent to one’s own consciousness either because they are implicitly
repressed or because, as part of one’s second nature, they are so close that they
escape attention.” What is needed is to be addressed by others, a philosophical
87. Hadot, Philosophy as a Way of Life. See also Shusterman, “Philosophy as a Way of Life: As
Textual and More Than Textual Practice,” and Heim, “The “Fecundity of Dialogue’ and the
‘Philosophy of Incompletion.’ ”
88. Shusterman, “Philosophy as a Way of Life,” 49.
Buddhavacana in the Suttanta 143
89. For example, the “voice of another” (parato ghosa), along with proper attention (yoniso
manasikāra) is said to be a condition for right view (sammādiṭṭhi) (Mi.294; Ai.87).
4
Disentangling the Tangle
Abhidhamma as Phenomenological Analysis
The inner tangle and the outer tangle, beings are entangled in a tangle.
So I ask Gotama: who disentangles the tangle?1
Buddhaghosa explains that this is referring to the web of craving that entangles
us all, like a network of branches in bamboo thickets. We are ensnared in a net-
work of desire that keeps us trapped. The Buddha’s reply is the inspiration for the
Visuddhimagga:
The verse suggests that morality is a foundation for the cultivation and devel-
opment of awareness and understanding, which Buddhaghosa takes to be a
1. Vism 1 (I.1): Anto jaṭā bahi jaṭā, jaṭaya jaṭitā pajā, taṃ taṃ gotama pucchāmi, ko imaṃ
vijaṭaye jaṭanti. This is quoting S i.13, which gives the two verses on which the Visuddhimagga
is the commentary.
2. Vism 1 (I.3): Sīle patiṭṭhāya naro sapañño, cittaṃ paññañca bhāvayaṃ; Ātāpī nipako bhikkhu,
so imaṃ vijaṭaye jaṭanti. Buddhaghosa takes “developing awareness” (cittaṃ bhāvayam) to be
samādhi.
Disentangling the Tangle 145
3. “Therein purification should be understood as nibbāna, entirely purified and free of
all stains. The Visuddhimagga is the path to that purification. The path is the means of
approaching [it].” Vism 2 (I.5): Tattha visuddhīti sabbamalavirahitaṃ accantaparisuddhaṃ
nibbānaṃ veditabbaṃ. Tassā visuddhiyā maggoti visuddhimaggo. Maggoti adhigamūpāyo
vuccati.
4. Another schema for the organization of the Visuddhimagga, though not one
that Buddhaghosa discusses explicitly, is the sevenfold purification described in the
Ratnavinīta Sutta (M i.145): purifying morality (sīlavisuddha), purifying awareness
(cittavisuddha), purifying view (diṭṭhivisuddha), purification by overcoming doubts
(kaṅkhāvitaraṇavisuddha), purification by knowing and seeing what is and is not the path
(maggāmaggañāṇadassanavisuddha), purification of knowing and seeing the practices
(paṭipadāñāṇadassanavisuddha), and purification of knowing and seeing (ñāṇadassanavi
suddha).
5. There is a lively scholarly question about Buddhaghosa’s direct involvement with the
Abhidhamma commentaries, though each of the three of them (the Atthasālinī, the
Sammohavinodanī, and the Pañcapakaraṇa-aṭṭhakatha, which comments on the last five
books), mentions Buddhaghosa in the colophon. For the most recent discussions of au-
thorship of the Abhidhamma commentaries, see Cousins, “The Case of the Abhidhamma
Commentary,” and von Hinüber, “Building the Theravāda Commentaries: Buddhaghosa and
Dhammapāla as Authors, Compilers, Redactors, Editors, and Critics.” Even if he did not per-
sonally author or transmit each of the commentaries attributed to him, we can use the name
“Buddhaghosa” to refer, as Lance Cousins does, to the “school of Buddhaghosa,” as he likely
headed a team of scholars working on this material (392).
146 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
Interpreting the Abhidhamma
It has not always been obvious to modern scholars what the formidable corpus of
Abhidhamma texts is trying to do. The seven canonical books of the Abhidhamma
are varied in their nature and purposes. The first book, the Dhammasaṅgaṇī
(Enumeration of Dhammas) consists of many long lists of phenomena classified
variously into groupings (pairs and threes). The second, the Vibhaṅga (Analysis)
is composed of eighteen chapters that provide various analytical techniques of key
technical and modular terms as they occur in specific formulas (the aggregates,
the truths, dependent origination, and so on). Further analytical descriptions and
methods (nayas) of questioning these terms and formulas are developed in the
catechisms, the Dhātukathā (Discourse on Elements), Puggalapaññatti (Describing
Persons), and the Yamaka (Pairs). The Kathāvatthu (Issues for Discussion), a text
attributed by Buddhaghosa to the teacher Moggaliputta Tissa, is a discussion and
refutation of other Buddhist schools. Finally, the “oceanic” Paṭṭhāna (Starting
Points) explores causes and conditions through various algorithmic methods that
can endlessly ramify.
While this description of the Abhidhamma books begins to name their
contents (and other scholars offer more thorough accounts that I need not
reiterate here6), we can begin by considering several ways that this material has
been interpreted. How are we to understand what these nearly endless lists and
classifications of phenomena are doing? What sort of philosophy is this? Modern
scholars offer competing accounts of the philosophical significance and purpose
of the canonical Abhidhamma texts; considering them can help us to specify
Buddhaghosa’s distinctive thinking about them and how his understanding of
them guided his own textual practice.
One line of thought treats these texts as offering metaphysical or onto-
logical systems. In this view, the Abhidhamma lists are itemizations of the ul-
timate realities in the world. Often little distinction is made between the Pali
Abhidhamma and the north Indian traditions of Abhidharma on this point. To
cite just one typical example, a 2013 article on Buddhist metaphysics asserts that
all Abhidharma traditions (including the Pali Abhidhamma) were united by a
“common core of philosophical principles,” which includes an effort to iden-
tify “primary existent objects” as “ultimately real” and to identify these ultimate
reals as things that have “an intrinsic nature” that is, “properties [they have] inde-
pendent of anything else,” which “exist no matter what, without depending on the
6. Nyanatiloka Mahāthera’s Guide through the Abhidhamma Piṭaka is a useful synopsis of the
Abhidhamma canonical texts.
Disentangling the Tangle 147
7. Westerhoff, “Metaphysical Issues in Indian Buddhist Thought,” 130. It is not difficult to find
scholars who share this perspective. Siderits also speaks of a single ahistorical Abhidharma tra-
dition with no acknowledgment of the possibility that the Pali texts might depart from the
general picture provided by Vasubandhu, and he portrays the whole tradition as a reductive
metaphysics (Buddhism as Philosophy, ch. 6). Griffiths equates “abhidharma” with “meta-
physics,” even when discussing the Milindapañha (Religious Reading, 116). Despite his insist-
ence on tracking Indian Buddhist textualities, his book never even mentions the huge Pali
commentarial project as a distinct tradition; it is unclear whether it is included in, adjacent
to, or entirely irrelevant to his treatment of “Indian Buddhism.” Another example of the re-
ceived view: the entry for “Abhidharma” in Buswell and Lopez, eds., The Princeton Dictionary
of Buddhism, 4 (in which Abhidhamma is lumped in and gets no separate treatment): “the
abhidharma provided an objective, impersonal, and highly technical description of the specific
characteristics of reality and the causal processes governing production and cessation.” We look
at the treatments of certain Pali scholars below.
8. Nyanaponika Thera, Abhidhamma Studies, 21.
9. Nyanaponika Thera, Abhidhamma Studies, 19. There is a rather muted but still long-
standing scholarly tradition of asserting that the Pali Abhidhamma tradition at the canon-
ical level was phenomenological rather than metaphysical in orientation; both Karunadasa,
The Dhamma Theory: Philosophical Cornerstone of the Abhidhamma, 8, and Ronkin, Early
Buddhist Metaphysics, ch. 3, argue this, though they suggest that there was a metaphysical shift
at the postcanonical layer. Going back even further historically, Morris cites approvingly Rhys
Davids’s insistence that early Buddhism, including the Abhidhamma texts, was not engaged in
metaphysics (Morris, ed., The Puggala-Paññatti, viii, citing Rhys Davids’s Hibbert Lectures).
148 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
10. The Dhammasaṅgaṇī describes each of its many listings of phenomena (dhammas) as
occurring on an occasion, a conjunction of circumstances, which is the moment being analyzed,
as Nyanaponika Thera notes (Abhidhamma Studies, 6–7).
11. Nyanaponika Thera, Abhidhamma Studies, 20– 21. Bhikkhu Bodhi’s introduction to
Nyanaponika’s book even more forcefully works this phenomenological approach into a met-
aphysical position. In contrast, Gethin resists the metaphysical slide in his reading the formula
of the five khandhas as exploring “how the world is experienced” in a manner “not primarily
as having metaphysical significance” (Gethin, “The Five Khandhas: Their Treatment in the
Nikāyas and Early Abhidhamma,” 50).
Disentangling the Tangle 149
A Precedent in the Suttas
At this point it might be helpful to refer to a sutta that I think shares in or even
inspires the methods Buddhaghosa deploys and which can help us see what
the canonical Abhidhamma might be doing. I do not argue here that the phe-
nomenological analysis I see at work in this sutta is the dominant or the only
kind of knowledge practiced in the Pali suttas. The tradition is just too big and
the methods and genres of texts are just too varied for such grandiose claims
(as I have been suggesting throughout). But I do feel confident in asserting the
presence of an analytical and phenomenological strand of thinking that can be
traced back to the Buddha of the Pali suttas, and it was an approach about which
the Buddha was explicit. Consider as one example the “Many Types of Feeling
Sutta” (Bahuvedanīya Sutta). I give the whole of the relevant passage here.
Thus have I heard. On one occasion the Bhagavan was living at Sāvatthi
in Jetavana in Anāthapiṇḍika’s Park. Then the architect Pañcakaṅga
approached Venerable Udāyī, paid homage to him, sat to one side of him,
and asked:
“Venerable sir, how many kinds of feeling (vedanā) has the Bhagavan
stated?”
“Architect, three feelings have been stated by the Bhagavan. The three
feelings stated by the Bhagavan are pleasurable (sukha) feeling, painful
(dukkha) feeling, and neither-pleasurable-nor-painful (adukkhamasukha)
feeling.”
Thus told, the architect Pañcakaṅga said to Ven. Udāyī: “But Venerable
Udāyī, the Bhagavan did not say there were three feelings. He said there
were two feelings: pleasurable feeling and painful feeling. This neither-
pleasurable-nor-painful feeling was described by the Bhagavan in terms of
an exalted and peaceful pleasure (sukha).”
Then a second time and a third time Ven. Udāyī told the architect
Pañcakaṅga that the Bhagavan spoke of three feelings, not two. And
a second and third time Pañcakaṅga said that the Bhagavan spoke of
two feelings, not three. Ven. Udāyī was not able to convince the archi-
tect Pañcakaṅga, and the architect Pañcakaṅga was not able to convince
Ven. Udāyī.
Ven. Ᾱnanda heard this discussion of Ven. Udāyī and the architect
Pañcakaṅga, and so he went to the Bhagavan. He approached him, paid
homage to him, and sat to one side of him. Sitting to one side, Ven. Ᾱnanda
told the Bhagavan everything of this discussion between Ven. Udāyī and
the architect Pañcakaṅga. Thus informed, the Bhagavan said this to Ven.
Disentangling the Tangle 151
This discussion, prompted by the intelligent lay follower and architect Pañcakaṅga
and the venerable Udāyī, suggests that they want to take the Buddha’s utterances
about feelings (vedanā, a term that becomes a key category of Abhidhamma
analysis) to deliver final clarity on just how many feelings there are. Are there
two (pleasure and pain) or are there three (pleasure, pain, and indeterminate
feeling)? They want a definitive answer as to which enumeration is the correct
or final description of what feeling is. The Buddha’s answer to them is highly in-
structive because it is a rebuttal of their entire mode of thinking. In fact, both
enumerations are correct ways of teaching (pariyāya). Further, all the Buddha’s
various enumerations of feelings are just that, ways of teaching about experience
to be usefully deployed in different contexts. We can analyze feeling into two
categories, three, five, six, eighteen, and so forth, for different purposes, but one
should not stop with any single enumeration and declare it to be, in the final anal-
ysis, what feeling is. We should resist taking analytical distinctions for ontological
description. The Buddha notes that this approach to teaching—something “well
spoken” and “well said”—may not sit well with those who are contentious, who,
presumably, wish to argue for and against fixed positions. But for those who do
152 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
respond to such an approach, the various enumerations of the Dhamma that ex-
plore feeling in a modal fashion can be put to practice in life without causing
friction.
Buddhaghosa does not say much about this exchange, but his few details are
worth noting. About the architect Pañcakaṅga, a “head carpenter,” he notes simply
that Pañcakaṅga’s name means “Five Tools” because he carried five tools, namely,
an adze, chisel, measuring stick, hammer, and a measuring string-and-tube.12 This
little detail is an intriguing narrative device. Pañcakaṅga is interested in tools,
and can, presumably, be persuaded that the Buddha’s teachings about feelings are
just that, tools. But architects are also attentive to numbers and may well be prone
to precision in wanting to know the architecture of experience: are there two
feelings or three? And so he debates with Udāyī, an elder described as a paṇḍita,
a learned scholar. Both are right about the number of feelings but in both being
right both are wrong if they think only one listing is apt. Buddhaghosa glosses
pariyāya, “way of teaching” as kāraṇa (activity, action, performance), furthering
the idea that teaching various lists is really an activity or performance aimed at par-
ticular purposes.13 Enumerations are contextual activities that make possible fur-
ther explications of experience—they perform or enact instruction; the Buddha
gives various listings of feeling depending on context or purpose. Buddhaghosa
goes on to explain that the Buddha teaches two feelings when speaking of feeling
in the sense of the phenomena of the body and of mental awareness; three when
speaking of pleasure, pain, and indeterminate feeling; five when speaking of the
five [main] faculties; six with reference to the six sense doorways; and so on.14
We can surmise from this that what he is after is not a single and final architec-
tonic of experience, but identifying how particular phenomena can be variously
schematized in a modal and modular fashion.
This line of approach to enumerated lists is helpful to us for interpreting the
strand of teachings that informs Buddhaghosa’s project of reading Abhidhamma
lists and in writing his own treatise, the Visuddhimagga. The canonical lists
variously carve up experience. Their lists are open-ended and resist closure.
The Dhammasaṅgaṇī does not give complete or exhaustive itemizations of
dhammas: it is not noticed often enough that each list in this text ends with
an “et cetera,” as I discuss further in what follows. Read with the Bahuvedanīya
Sutta, we can suggest that its enumerations of lists might be “ways of teaching”
that begin to provide various enumerations in order to develop understanding
through different tools. Buddhaghosa carries forward this method of analysis in
his own work.
To be sure, Buddhaghosa does think that there are better and worse ana-
lytical tools and lists. Not any list goes. He is a devout Buddhist with specific
dogmatic commitments that frame his work and so he tries to show that the
specific lists and formulas given in the Buddha’s teachings and comprising the
key terms and formulas of the Abhidhamma texts—the four noble truths,
the five aggregates, the twelvefold dependent origination, and so on—are the
best methods for analysis to achieve the therapeutic and soteriological aims
of Buddhist practice and understanding. In places he seems to give special
weight to distinguishing the processes of name or naming (nāma) and form
or forming (rūpa) in our phenomenology as the central Abhidhamma task.15
What we might say is that for him what makes these methods useful is not that
they argue for a posited metaphysical reality (either of experience or things
“out there”) or because they land, at the end, on a single, final analysis, but
because of their efficacy in bringing about certain experiences or realizations.
That is to say, the truth value of the methods he deploys is not grounded on a
claim that they are or produce accurate accounts of reality; his scholarly work
does not aim at metaphysical argumentation. Rather, he is, as he has told us all
along, an Analyst. He takes the Abhidhamma texts and his own philosophical
task in commenting on them to be the practice of analysis to achieve parti
cular purposes for understanding and refashioning one’s experience—that is,
to help one disentangle the tangle.
One of the challenges in making this argument is that we nearly always find
Buddhaghosa in the midst of carrying out this practice rather than standing back
from it and telling us explicitly what he is doing. This of course is fully consistent
with what I have argued he takes to be his task, which is to not argue for a posi-
tion. On his own description he is a Vibhajjavādin, one who, in accordance with
the tradition, can “take up the meaning [of a given matter] and then return again
to that meaning by explaining it with different methods,” while never affirming
15. Sp 22; Sv 1.19; As 21: [the third piṭaka, the Abhidhamma] he characterizes as “this is a teaching
on distinguishing name and form, for here is taught the distinguishing of name and form
that is the opposing of the passions, et cetera.” (rāgādipaṭipakkhabhūto nāmarūpaparicchedo
ettha kathitoti nāmarūpaparicchedakathāti vuccati). See Heim and Ram-Prasad, “In a Double
Way: Nāma-Rūpa in Buddhaghosa’s Phenomenology,” for a phenomenological reading of his
work on nāmarūpa and the entire Abhidhamma.
154 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
one’s own view.16 For my part, I only realized that this is what he is doing by
following him around texts for a very long time watching him do the work of an-
alytical and classificatory practice without ever drawing back and making meta
physical assertions. In some important sense, I believe, the best argument for
this understanding of his approach is the Visuddhimagga itself. There is a crucial
sense in which this text must be read as a whole, or at least taken in large chunks,
to see the modular methods of its treatment of ideas. Its methods might not be
apparent to those who dip into it as a reference tool to look up single points of
doctrine, because of the risk of reifying analytical categories by severing them
from the very contexts in which they are being defined.
My arguments to demonstrate Buddhaghosa’s phenomenological approach
will draw on several kinds of evidence. First, I begin by gathering together,
recapping, and furthering what we have seen Buddhaghosa say in previous
chapters about what it is that the Abhidhamma does. I have argued and will
continue to demonstrate that his commentarial framing of the Abhidhamma
offers essential clues for his theories of texts and practice. There is much to be
said for taking him at his word about what he thinks texts are and what he says
he is doing as an interpreter. Second, I consider several types of methods that he
discusses in the Abhidhamma commentaries focusing on the Dhammasaṅgaṇī,
the Vibhaṅga, and the Paṭṭhāna as well as his Visuddhimagga. I argue throughout
that he understands Abhidhamma textuality to initiate a series of methods and
practices whereby the practitioner can practice the movements of the Buddha’s
omniscience to yield transformative vision and understanding.
Buddhaghosa’s Oceanic
and Immeasurable Abhidhamma
We have seen that Buddhaghosa thinks that it is only in the Abhidhamma, spe-
cifically the Paṭṭhāna, that the omniscience of the Buddha can begin to find
room. It was in the fourth week of awakening upon contemplating the algo-
rithmic relationships of this text that dazzling rays emitted from his body cast
forth a brilliance that shot out through billions of world systems.17 In chapter 1
we explored the spatial and temporal metaphors Buddhaghosa proposes to
interpret what the Abhidhamma is—it is a great ocean of methods whose
trainings (sikkhā) at which one could be better or worse trained, which refer not
to memorizing doctrine but engaging in styles of thinking. A monk ill-trained in
the Abhidhamma, for example, can “overrun thinking on dhammas,” and think
about imponderables (like speculative ponderings about the world).23 Conversely,
Buddhaghosa ventures to say, one well trained in Abhidhamma is the true teacher
of the Dhamma; unlike one trained only in the Suttas, the Abhidhamma expert
never gets muddled (na āloḷenti) and can answer every question.24 He knows the
Dhamma from every side by his mastery of matrices and how to expand them to
every instance.
Buddhaghosa develops further his approach to the Abhidhamma in his
nidāna to the Abhidhamma piṭaka in the Atthasālinī. As much as he suggests that
Abhidhamma is a decontextualized or abstracted form of teaching (nippariyāya),
as we saw in chapter 2, Buddhaghosa is quite concerned to give it a context. In
fact, that the Abhidhamma texts themselves apparently lack a nidāna becomes a
problem for him because it gives fodder to those who would deny their canon-
icity.25 He deals with this by providing several possible options for its nidāna,
options that suggest what he takes it to be.
He observes that one scholar, the elder Tissabhūti, considers the
Abhidhamma nidāna to be the Mahābodhi tree itself. In this view, the Buddha
is said to describe his dwelling at the place of awakening as a time for “pene-
trating feeling (vedanā) in an unlimited way (nippadesa)” via ten different places
or instances (padesa): according to the aggregates, the bases, the elements, the
truths, the faculties, the conditions, the foundations of mindfulness, the jhānas,
name (nāma), and according to dhammas. Tissabhūti argues that the Buddha’s
awakening at the Bodhi Tree was the initial location where he learned to ex-
plore phenomena in an unlimited fashion; on a much later occasion, he returned
to this site and “dwelled” in it when on retreat, and emerged from it to teach
a sutta that Buddhaghosa calls the Padesavihārasutta.26 So the Bodhi Tree was
the setting (nidāna) for this sutta. But Buddhaghosa reports that another elder,
Sumanadeva, finds this account to be unlikely and offers his own claim that the
nidāna—the context and place of the original teaching—is at the throne of the
god Sakka at the root of the Pāricchattaka tree in Tāvatiṃsa heaven, where the
Buddha taught the Abhidhamma to the deities.27
Buddhaghosa’s own account is much more elaborate. He says that unlike the
suttas, which have a single nidāna describing when and where they were taught,
the Abhidhamma has two nidānas: one which is the origin and context for the
Buddha’s attainment (adhigamanidāna) of the Abhidhamma, and one for his
teaching of it (desanānidāna). The nidāna for his attainment or discovery of it
is the very long period of starting off as Sumedha, who makes a vow under the
Buddha Dipaṅkara, becomes a bodhisatta, and then spends one hundred thou-
sand eons and four incalculable periods developing the Ten Perfections prerequi-
site to his attainment of awakening under the Bodhi Tree. This nidāna continues
up until he penetrated omniscience in the third watch of the night:
This sequence describes a very long process of living innumerable previous lives
that culminated in the last part of the night, when he arrives finally at the abstract
and general methods that articulate the processes structuring all those previous
lives. In fact, because the Abhidhamma was conditioned by these biograph-
ical events, Buddhaghosa goes on to include the long story of Sumedha of the
Jātakanidāna, using this text to serve as the Abhidhamma’s nidāna as well. This is
how we come to find, rather unexpectedly, a very long excursus in the Atthasālinī,
where the introduction of the Jātaka commentaries works also as the introduc-
tion to the Abhidhamma Piṭaka.29 The entire four incalculable eons and 100,000
27. As 30–33.
28. As 35: paṭhamayāme pubbenivāsañāṇaṃ, majjhimayāme cutūpapātañāṇaṃ
patvā, pacchimayāmāvasāne dasabalacatuvesārajjādisabbabuddhaguṇapaṭimaṇḍitaṃ
sabbaññutaññāṇaṃ paṭivijjhantoyeva imaṃ abhidhammanayasamuddaṃ adhigañchi.
Evamassa adhigamanidānaṃ veditabbaṃ.
29. As 32; Pe Maung Tin does not translate this large section of the text in The Expositor,
41. For a translation of this section of the text in the Nidānakathā of the Jātakaṭṭhakathā,
158 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
The Abhidhamma having been attained in this way, [the Buddha] then
spent seven days seated on a single throne, seven days not blinking his eyes,
and seven days walking up and down. In the fourth week, having examined
the Abhidhamma which had been attained by discovering it with his
own self-existent knowledge, he passed the next three weeks among the
Goatherds’ Nigrodha tree, the Mucalinda tree, and the Kingstead tree.30
The initial discovery of Abhidhamma had him riveted, unblinking and un-
moving. But it unfolds over time, to a point where he can move and then examine
it further in a full week. After four more weeks he decides to teach (after some
hesitation and being beseeched by the great deity Brahmā), and eventually sets
out to teach “the group of five at the Deer Park of Isipatana.” This nidāna goes
up until the first sermon at the Deer Park at Isipatana, the moment known as the
Turning of the Wheel of the Dhamma.
And turning the Wheel of the Dhamma he made them, who were headed
by the elder Aññāsikoṇḍañña, as well as eighteen koṭis of brahma deities,
drink the ambrosia of the Deathless. Thus it should be understood that
the nidāna of the teaching is [what occurred] up to the Turning of the
Wheel of the Dhamma.31
This fascinating reading locates the teaching of the Abhidhamma not as a dis-
crete teaching apart from the teaching of the suttas, but as commencing pre-
cisely when they do, at the first sermon. This suggests, as I take up later, that the
Abhidhamma is, at least in some important sense, the Suttanta Dhamma: they
are taught simultaneously.
see Jayawickrama, The Story of Gotama Buddha, 3–61. The durenidāna as given in the
Jātakaṭṭhakathā is a slightly longer account, however.
30. As 35: Evaṃ adhigatābhidhammo ekapallaṅkena nisinnasattāhaṃ animisasattāhaṃ
caṅkamanasattāhañca atikkamitvā, catutthe sattāhe sayambhūñāṇādhigamena adhigataṃ
abhidhammaṃ vicinitvā aparānipi ajapālamucalindarājāyatanesu tīṇi sattāhāni vītināmetvā.
31. As 35: dhammacakkaṃ pavattento aññāsikoṇḍaññattherappamukhā aṭṭhārasa brahmakoṭiyo
amatapānaṃ pāyesi. Evaṃ yāva dhammacakkappavattanā desanānidānaṃ veditabbaṃ.
Disentangling the Tangle 159
But first, let us look in more detail how he treats the Abhidhamma nidānas.
To specify the particulars of the nidāna of the Abhidhamma, Buddhaghosa asks
and answers an important listing of questions about the Abhidhamma:
This catechetical format echoes the style of asking about the nidāna that we
see for the Sutta and Vinaya recitations, where Ᾱnanda is quizzed on the con-
textual particulars of the suttas and Upāli on the vinaya rules. The acquisition,
study, teaching, reception, impact, and future transmission of this knowledge are
each located and specified. Perhaps most intriguingly, the Abhidhamma is said
to have been “cooked” in the jātaka stories that comprise the many lifetimes of
the Bodhisatta as he worked for the awakening experience under the Bodhi tree.
This account situates the Abhidhamma in the Buddha’s life story, as all nidānas
must; philosophy is, as we have seen, biographical. But this is a prologue like no
other. The entire preawakening biographical tradition of incalculable previous
lives culminating in the moment under the Bodhi Tree becomes the runup to
the discovery of the Abhidhamma method. When the Jātakas become the con-
text for the Abhidhamma we discern the maximal scope and scale of what the
Abhidhamma is. The Bodhisatta’s entire spiritual journey is the origin and con-
text for it.
Further, by situating the discovery of the Abhidhamma as the culmination of
the Perfections developed over all the many previous lives, this account makes the
additional point that the Abhidhamma is the abstraction of knowledge earned
from living many lifetimes. The raw experience of all of those lives becomes, fi-
nally, “cooked”—refined, completed—during the awakening. The knowledge
comes from the particular lives the Bodhisatta lived in all their complex singu-
larity, which prepared him to acquire in a refined manner the abstract and general
explanatory formulas that constitute its methods.
Also noteworthy is that this passage recalls the tradition of the Buddha
teaching the Abhidhamma as a separate three- month-long sermon to the
Tāvatiṃsa deities among whom was his mother (which we considered in
chapter 1). Earlier in the Atthasālinī, speaking of the Abhidhamma, he says:
At a future time (that is, after the week of awakening) the Tathāgata sat
in the middle of the deities of the ten thousand world systems at the
Paṇḍukambala stone at the root of the Pāricchattaka tree in Tāvatiṃsa
heaven and, making his mother become a “witness of the body” (an ad-
vanced contemplative attainment), he taught it, passing from one dhamma
to another, teaching the divisions of kusaladhammas, akusaladhammas,
and indeterminate dhammas.33
This locates the teaching of the piṭaka, starting with the Dhammasaṅgaṇī
(which is in fact structured on the threefold kusala, akusala, and indeterminate
dhammas), at some unspecified time subsequent to his awakening. Teaching the
Abhidhamma Piṭaka to the deities in heaven works as a narrative device to suggest
its “divine eye” quality of seeing the general patterns and structures of phenomena
across particular lives. The dwellers in heaven are perhaps best suited to under-
stand it in its pure, entirely abstracted, form. Still, the deities need a buddha to
give them this divine lens for seeing how phenomena work. The mention of his
mother is intriguing. He helps his mother, as a featured member of this heavenly
audience, attain the capacity to become a “witness of the body”; she had died
shortly after his birth and here, over the Abhidhamma, they are reconnected.
Thus we acquire two different ideas about the context of the teaching of the
Abhidhamma; in the first, the nidāna to teaching the Abhidhamma is everything
leading up to the first sermon, where he then commences to teach the Dhamma
(which includes the Abhidhamma). In the second, the Abhidhamma is a separate
body of texts, the piṭaka, realized in the fourth week of Awakening, taught to his
mother and also conveyed to Sāriputta, and (somehow) later captured in seven
volumes. But the first idea, where the Abhidhamma is part of and taught simultane-
ously with the teaching of the Suttas, bears further consideration.
As we have seen, the Abhidhamma is the “higher Dhamma” composed of the
formulas and methods given throughout the suttas, unmediated by their particular
contexts. The suttas put contextual flesh on the methods of the Dhamma categories
and patterns to locate them in particular stories, but they contain the Abhidhamma
methods, which are, of course, the Dhamma itself. We can see this in practice, by
way of example, in the two suttas we started to understand from the last chapter. For
instance, when the Buddha taught the Brahmajāla Sutta he was teaching his monks
about the problematic style of thinking behind the positing of the sixty-two meta-
physical views in a narrative context precipitated by the occasion with Suppiya. But
at the same time, the teaching offers Abhidhammic analysis at its kernel, particu-
larly in the teaching that the construction of metaphysical positions is conditioned
by vedanā, feeling. Vedanā is an analytic category of Abhidhamma, and describing
its conditioned and conditioning relationality is Abhidhamma practice. Recall
the repeated formula relevant to all the cases in the Brahmajāla’s treatment of the
sixty-two views:
We recall that identifying the way that feeling prompts the grasping and promoting
of views is the key insight that the Buddha offers in the sutta; his grasp of the
general pattern underlying and structuring the process of all sixty-two types of
views is the abstract Abhidhamma formula this particular narrative conveys to
its audience.
We might also consider the Mūlapariyāya Sutta, the second sutta we
considered at length in the preceding chapter; this sutta too has a highly tech-
nical, Abhidhammic teaching at its core that constitutes the content of teaching
the five hundred conceited monks. In this case the content is not about feeling
(vedanā) but about cognizing (saññā), another basic Abhidhamma category, and
the sutta ramifies through other technical Abhidhamma terms and formulas,
such as the twenty-four bases. These methods are taught in this sutta in order to
have an impact on the five hundred monks.
In sum, what we can say is that while the Abhidhamma methods can be
found in a body of seven treatises in the Abhidhamma piṭaka, they can also be
said to be embedded in the contextually situated knowledge of the suttas. The
Abhidhamma methods are the very methods of the Dhamma; when these are
collected in the piṭaka taught for three months in Tāvatiṃsa, they are worked
out systematically and “unrestricted to any instance” and thus “exceed and are
distinguished from” the Dhamma of the Suttanta. But when the methods of the
Dhamma occur in a particular sutta they speak to their instance (padesa), where
they can teach us how they work within that context. For our sake, as learners, the
same Dhamma teachings are available in these two forms—as unlimited modular
ramifications unconstrained by particular narrative contexts, and, conversely, as
narratively situated practices that illumine the very contexts in which they are
embedded.
In addition to explaining how the teaching of Abhidhamma is presented in
these two ways, Buddhaghosa has also shed light on how the Abhidhamma terms
and patterns were discovered by the Buddha. In this sense, the Abhidhamma
methods are nippariyāya, abstracted knowledge, because they are the knowledge
that was abstracted from the many previous lives of the Bodhisatta as he learned
about experience through living it. His extraordinary biography provided the raw
experience from which he could understand the general patterns operative in all
experience. His night of Awakening and its immediate aftermath comprise the full
discovery of the Abhidhamma formulas that can be used to explore all experience
35. While this classificatory method is in evidence throughout Abhidhamma and his interpreta-
tion of it, we can point to a quite explicit discussion of Buddhaghosa treating “comprehension
by groups” (kalāpasammasana) in chapter XX of the Visuddhimagga. He gives an example of
the way phenomena grouped together under the category of form (rūpa) can be understood by
the three general characteristics, which are impermanence, suffering, and lacking essence. And
form itself, of course, constitutes part of a larger grouping, the five aggregates (which also in-
clude sensory contact, feeling, perception, and constructions) that make up human experience
and by reference to which form can be understood. Chapter XX concerns the kind of knowl
edge one gains when one attends to the groupings particular phenomena belong to, the char-
acteristics they share with other members of the grouping, and the causal connections among
items within the groupings as a whole in their interactions and placements in other groupings.
164 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
phenomena and exploring how they work together constitute both the canon-
ical methods and Buddhaghosa’s exposition; his Visuddhimagga also defines and
analyzes experience by breaking it down and then regrouping its components var-
iously to explore their causes and conditions.
The Dhammasaṅgaṇī exemplifies the first method, that of reductive analysis,
though it is not limited to it and also includes the work of groupings as I dem-
onstrate later. The text is an extension and elaboration of the matrices (mātikās)
of the suttas, taking up various moments of experience in the many twofold
and threefold ways in which they may be classified, and then elaborating them.
One threefold distinction that structures much of the text classifies phenomena
(dhamma) into good (kusala), bad (akusala), and indeterminate (abyākata) expe-
rience. The Dhammasaṅgaṇī opens with a long list identifying the constituents in
one particular occasion or moment of good awareness (kusalaṃ cittaṃ):
36. Dhs 9: Katame dhammā kusalā? Yasmiṃ samaye kāmāvacaraṃ kusalaṃ cittaṃ uppannaṃ
hoti somanassasahagataṃ ñāṇasampayuttaṃ rūpārammaṇaṃ vā saddārammaṇaṃ vā
gandhārammaṇaṃ vā rasārammaṇaṃ vā phoṭṭhabbārammaṇaṃ vā dhammārammaṇaṃ vā
yaṃ yaṃ vā panārabbha, tasmiṃ samaye phasso hoti, vedanā hoti, saññā hoti, cetanā hoti, cittaṃ
hoti vitakko hoti, vicāro hoti, pīti hoti, sukhaṃ hoti, cittassekaggatā hoti, saddhindriyaṃ hoti,
Disentangling the Tangle 165
work (kicca) of each and every dhamma, and knowing that, he shows the
classifications according to their work. Knowing the eighteen single-work
dhammas, he showed their classification in one place for each. Knowing
the seven two-work dhammas, he showed their classifications in both
places. Knowing that feeling has three different kinds of work, he showed
its classification in three places. Knowing that energy and mindfulness
each have four different kinds of work, he showed their classifications in
four places each.39
This is to say that eighteen of the dhammas have only one job and so are
demonstrated in just one classificatory analysis. But feeling has three kinds of
work and so gets classified in three different places. Mindfulness has four jobs,
as we have seen. And so on. This is a highly functionalist definition where each
item is known and described depending on the work it does. The craftsman who
is skilled in plumbing, carpentry, and roofing is to be known by his various crafts,
the actual work that he does. In the workshop of experience, phenomena are
known and investigated according to the tasks that they do, and their tasks differ
in different contexts.
A further illustration of the modal variability of the dhammas on this list
is that they are here considered kusala (which I translate simply and broadly as
“good” because for Buddhaghosa kusala can cover five normative values: salutary,
blameless, proficient, free of distress, and conducive to pleasant results40). Many
of these phenomena are kusala only when they occur together with other phe-
nomena in a kusala citta, a moment of good awareness. But should the “same”
phenomenon occur in a moment of bad or indeterminate awareness, as many of
them can and do, they become in that context bad or indeterminate. In other
words, phenomena like contact, feeling, cognizing, intention, awareness, and so
on, take on their normative valence depending on the larger relational system in
which they occur, and they are inflected by other phenomena in it.
These considerations make it difficult to see dhammas as intrinsic, self-
contained, or independent essences because they change according to classificatory
schemes that define them as doing different kinds of work and having different
valences. Nyanaponika Thera underscores this point, arguing, “there is no justi-
fication for believing in any unchangeable ‘bearers’ of definite qualities,” for it is
“impossible to speak of a thing as the bearer of a single quality in a strict sense, if
the functions of the respective factor, its direction of movement, its intensity, and
its kammic quality are variable, in accordance to the relational system to which
that factor belongs.”41 The changing work and manifestation of dhammas suggests
just how dynamic and unfixed canonical Abhidhamma analysis is. Nyanaponika
is right to urge the tremendous methodological importance of these features: a
composite thing cannot be said to be sufficiently described just by enumerating its
single parts, because we must know also how those parts change in relationship to
how they are arranged in various schemas. Abhidhamma methods try to convey
how even the smallest bits of experience change depending on how and with
what else they are arranged. They change jobs, intensities, and valence depending
on the relational system they help constitute in any particular moment of experi-
ence. Like the king involved in the practical task of assembling and assigning jobs
to his craftsmen, the observer of experience is interested in the capacities, skills,
and work of each—and not, we might surmise, in assigning them a putative un-
changing essence.
Further, the passage ends its list with the open-ended “and whatever other
dhammas” may occur. This big “et cetera” indicates that this is not a closed or
totalizing list or a final architectonic of experience, but an initial attempt at
describing experience that can be added to. And in fact, Buddhaghosa does add
to it, adding nine additional cetasikas to this particular list.42 This “et cetera”
occurs at the end of every list of dhammas in the Dhammasaṅgaṇī.43 That the
lists may be extended conveys the idea that this type of analysis, far from breaking
down experience into final or exhaustive listings of irreducible bits of reality, is
a process of analytical reduction that can be broken down further or differently
through additional scrutiny of experience and the intercausal relationships that
constitute it.
This open-endedness evident in the Dhammasaṅgaṇī can be contrasted with
the Abhidhammatthasaṅgaha, Anuruddha’s compendium (perhaps eleventh cen-
tury), which catalogs a tidier and apparently complete list of fifty-two cetasikas,
with no repetitions and no suggestion that the list might be extended. This me-
dieval text more readily lends itself to an interpretation of it as an ontological
system naming in a final and complete way the ultimate constituents of expe-
rience. (It is often the sole or chief text on Abhidhamma consulted by modern
scholars.) I think too that it is noteworthy that Anuruddha’s text is a compendium
(saṅgaha), a genre quite different from Buddhaghosa’s path (magga), in its effort
to synthesize and summarize a system that presents itself, at least at the canonical
level and in Buddhaghosa’s pragmatic purposes, as an open and unexhausted set
of practices.
To sum up and look ahead: in Buddhaghosa’s hands, the first method of reduc-
tive analysis—breaking up a moment of experience (a citta) into the phenomena
it comprises (understood as phenomenological terminuses rather than ontolog-
ical ultimates)—allows for the second method of classificatory analysis whereby
those phenomena come to be known modally according to the groupings in
which they can be seen to operate in experience. We continue below looking
at Buddhaghosa’s definitional practices—primarily, what it means to identify
the characteristic (lakkhaṇa), particularity (sabhāva), and function (rasa) of
these phenomena—in order to see how they refine analysis without arriving at
essences. All of these practices of exegetical work of analysis enact the under-
standing (paññā) that is the practice and the goal of both the Abhidhamma as
Buddhaghosa reads it, and his own Visuddhimagga.
Definitional Practices
The phenomena (dhammas) yielded by reductive analysis of a moment of aware-
ness (citta) can be discerned and defined by specific definitional practices devel-
oped by the Abhidhamma commentaries. Such formal practices sought to define
the particular characteristics of dhammas, using terms like sabhāva (particularity)
and lakkhaṇa (characteristic).44 Sabhāva is of course a key term in light of how
the Sanskrit term “svabhāva” was taken by some of the Indian traditions (most
pointedly in the mature Sarvāstivāda Abhidharma and the Madhyamaka critique
of it) to refer to an ontological category, a “real existent” that cannot be further
44. Unlike the Abhidharma system described by Vasubandhu, which defines dharmas in
terms of dravya, substances, often taken to refer to things-in-themselves, irreducible entities,
or ontological reals, we never encounter the Pali equivalent to the Sanskrit term dravya or
the substance ontology that seems to go with it. See Cox, “From Category to Ontology: The
Changing Role of Dharma in Sarvāstivāda Abhidharma,” for a careful charting of the develop-
ment of an ontological reading of dharmas in the Sarvāstivāda system. Cox is careful to distin-
guish this system from that of the Pali.
Disentangling the Tangle 169
45. As 39.
46. As 63: tesaṃ dhammānaṃ sabhāvo vā sāmaññaṃ vā lakkhaṇaṃ nāma. In the same passage
Buddhaghosa defines the other three definitional practices thus: rasa is the function (kicca)
or accomplishment (sampatti); paccupaṭṭhāna is the way it manifests (upaṭṭhānākāra) or the
effect (phala), and padaṭṭhāna is its near cause (āsannakāraṇa). For rasa as kicca or sampatti, see
also Vism 8 (I.21). Much mischief can be caused by translations that translate rasa in these texts
as “essential property” (as, for example, Pe Maung Tin does in The Expositor, 84) or “essence.”
Another misleading translation related to both lakkhaṇa and rasa is Ñāṇamoli’s translation
of yāthāvasarasato; in an important passage about purificatory knowledge we are told about
a certain incomplete knowledge that cannot observe the three characteristics [of saṃsāra] “in
their true nature” in Ñāṇamoli’s rendering (Vism 639 [XXI.2]: yāthāvasarasato tilakkhaṇaṃ
sallakkhetuṃ nāsakkhi). But the phrase yāthāvasarasato is less metaphysically charged than this
makes it sound and can be better put thus: it is not possible [for incomplete knowledge] to
observe the three characteristics “according to their exact function.” If we avoid metaphysical
translations like “nature,” “being,” and “essence” (which would have to be argued for rather
than assumed, and about which Ñāṇamoli himself is uneasy even as he uses them [see ch. VIII,
n 68]), different possibilities for interpreting the entire philosophical project at work here can
open up.
170 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
This kind of classificatory matrix should by now be familiar. Sabhāva does not
refer to an irreducible existent arrived at through analysis but merely refers to
the particularity that distinguishes feeling, which is here the phenomenological
experience of being felt (the sabhāva of a phenomenon is usually the verbal form
of it). But note that the ways of being felt, its sabhāva, can be divided further into
three, or again, five. If sabhāva were a primary existent arrived at through final
analysis why is it here further reducible?
So much for vedanā as an aggregate, but how does Buddhaghosa define
vedanā when it is considered as a dhamma, or cetasika? In this case, his defini-
tional practice does not refer to sabhāva at all and he gives instead a functionalist
definition of feeling to get at how it is experienced. If sabhāva were the essential,
irreducible essence of a dhamma for him, it is difficult to explain why he would
fail to mention it when he goes about the business of defining each of the fifty-
six dhammas. For him, an item is defined by its work, its conditions, and how it
manifests, rather than by assigning a final “essence” to it.48 When defining specific
dhammas, he deploys the definitional device of defining a category by its charac-
teristic, function, manifestation, and proximate cause. For example, he defines
vedanā (feeling) thus:
Vedanā is what is felt. Its characteristic is what is felt, its function is expe-
rience or its function is enjoying the manner in which [something] can be
wanted, its manifestation is tasting [the other] cetasikas, and its proximate
cause is calmness.49
48. That Buddhaghosa’s definitional practices do not define dhammas in terms of sabhāva
contravenes Ronkin’s notion that sabhāva is “a synonym for a dhamma” and the commentaries
define “any dhamma by virtue of its sabhāva” (Early Buddhist Metaphysics, 114).
49. As 109: Vedayatīti vedanā. Sā vedayitalakkhaṇā, anubhavanarasā iṭṭhākārasambhogarasā vā,
cetasikaassādapaccupaṭṭhānā, passaddhipadaṭṭhānā. Note that this is a kind of feeling that is joyful.
50. Ronkin, Early Buddhist Metaphysics, 117. Williams says the “position on the role of the
svabhāva as positing primary existents is common to both the Sarvāstivāda and the Theravāda,”
and cites Vism 484 in support of his assertion that both are agreed on an ontological under-
standing of svabhāva/sabhāva (Williams, “On the Abhidharma Ontology,” 242). But Vism
484 is just an analysis of bases (āyatana) and says merely that before arising they have no in-
dividuality (or way of being), nor do they have one when they cease. Nothing in this commits
Buddhaghosa to an ontological position.
172 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
That is why the meaning should be said this way: on an occasion when the first
great kusala awareness of the sensory realm arises, on that occasion there arise,
by virtue of being the constituents of awareness, more than fifty dhammas
which are dhammas just in the sense of their particularity (sabhāva). There is
nothing else, neither creature (satta), being (bhāva), human (posa), or person
(puggala).51
The question is: what does dhamma mean when it refers to sabhāva? Ronkin (taking
her cues from the Mahāṭīkā), takes this defining of dhamma with reference to
sabhāva to be an ontological move. She says:
the sabhāva indicates that its respective dhamma does not depend on any
other item for its existence. Dhammas are self-existents; this is the meaning
of their upholding their sabhāva, that is, they uphold their own nature and
thus their self-existence. . . . Unlike the earlier occurrences of sabhāva as
essence in the sense of a dhamma’s individuator, here it acquires an ontolog-
ical significance.52
But is such an ontological leap required here? And how would such a leap co-
here with Buddhaghosa’s other definitional practices? This passage is perfectly
congruent with the other ways Buddhaghosa has used “sabhāva”: sabhāva is a
characteristic that distinguishes a dhamma from other dhammas. All sorts of
things are said to have sabhāvas or particularities (including, for example, the
various types of decaying corpses used in meditation practice), which identify
Dhammas are that which have their own particularity (sabhāva); alterna-
tively, dhammas are what are had (or borne) by conditions, or dhammas
are what are had (or borne) just by their particularity.57
53. Vism 183 (VI.35) identifies the distinctive qualities (sabhāva) of ten particular types of
corpses as a contemplative exercise, which, curiously, Ronkin herself notes (Early Buddhist
Metaphysics, 116–17).
54. Sabhāva is translated as “individual essence” by Ñāṇamoli (The Path of Purification, many
places). Ronkin translates dhammas as “primary existents” and sabhāva as “own nature” (Early
Buddhist Metaphysics, 118). Williams translates sabhāva as “self-essence” (“On the Abhidharma
Ontology,” 242). That said, the ontological leap is not entirely a fiction of modern scholars,
as it does become increasingly evident at the ṭīkā layer, including the commentary on the
Visuddhimagga, as Ronkin notes. See Karunadasa on this point (The Dhamma Theory, 13–16).
55. Although, as discussed in chapter 2, the official avoidance of the category “person” in the
Abhidhamma and paramattha register is contravened by the fifth book the Abhidhamma
corpus, the Describing Persons (Puggalapaññatti).
56. Vism 293: dhammā ti sabhāvā.
57. As 39: Attano pana sabhāvaṃ dhārentīti dhammā. Dhāriyanti vā paccayehi, dhārīyanti vā
yathāsabhāvatoti dhammā. It is not easy to translate dhārenti and dhārīyanti here. These verbs
mean to wear, have, possess, bear.
174 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
Ronkin sees this as an ontological move. She says, “does not the very use of the
term sabhāva overstress the reality of the dhammas and imply that a dhamma is
a discrete entity, a ‘thing’ existing in its own right?”58 But if dhammas “exist by
their own right” how can they also (or alternatively)—as is stated in this very
passage—have conditions? If this is the passage where Buddhaghosa is staking
the claim that dhammas are self-existent independent essences it is surprising that
he would simultaneously state that they can be borne by conditions. The passage
may more easily and coherently be taken to suggest that a dhamma distinguishes
one thing from another by “particularizing”—by having a particular character-
istic, which is consistent with his definitional practice of identifying the charac-
teristics of phenomena that distinguish them from others.
When we watch Buddhaghosa in practice with this term, we find that
sabhāva need not entail a notion of essence or self-existent that is the target
of Madhyamaka critics. In fact, when any Abhidhamma category—whether a
dhamma or an aggregate or any other paramattha term—is said to possess its own
particularity it can at the same time be located within an analytically dynamic
modal and modular system that continues to break it down into further analysis
to understand, through the formulas of conditionality, how it works within a rad-
ically conditioned network of phenomena.
Analysis from All Sides
The two other large Abhidhamma texts, the Vibhaṅga and Paṭṭhāna, are both
substantive elaborations and reworkings of the Dhammasaṅgaṇī’s matrices, even
while they take different approaches to analysis. We consider how Buddhaghosa
understands their methods briefly here. The title of the Vibhaṅga means “anal-
ysis,” indicating analytical practices associated with the verbal form vi-bhāj. Bhāj
and vi-bhāj mean to distinguish, divide, classify, and develop the details of some-
thing (and give us Vibhaṅga, Vibhajjavāda, vibhajana). The Vibhaṅga does this
by taking up eighteen of the classic formulas or groupings used to describe ex-
perience (aggregates, bases, elements, the four truths, faculties, dependent orig-
ination, et cetera) and subjecting each to a threefold method of analysis, what it
58. Ronkin, Early Buddhist Metaphysics, 112. She translates the passage with more substantive
language than I do: “dhammas bear their own particular natures. Alternatively, dhammas are
borne by conditions, or according to their particular natures” (112). Ronkin’s interpretation
of this as a commentarial assertion of the ontological reality of dhammas has been influen-
tial for other scholarship, as for example, Skilton, citing Ronkin, says this: “crucially also the
commentaries work up a definition of dhamma (ultimate constituent) as “that which bears its
own-nature” (Skilton, “Theravāda,” 81).
Disentangling the Tangle 175
The teaching of the twelvefold conditions goes both wide (through earth and
sky) and deep (into the moment). The brilliance of dependent origination is how
it explains both the conditionality of experience over time (the whole of a human
life and beyond) and within the smallest units of phenomena that we can observe
in the tiniest fragments of time and experience that we can get at.
Since we are on the topic of dependent origination, I cannot resist pausing
to observe that Buddhaghosa finds that explaining the meaning of dependent
origination is, perhaps particularly, difficult by its very nature, and that its ex-
position should be left to the Vibhajjavādins, described as we have seen, as
those who do not launch into their own view and who return again to the
meaning with various methods.65 He says elsewhere that the Buddha’s own
teaching of it is a thing of beauty: “because he has achieved elegance in
teaching he teaches the Dhamma by various methods.”66 And for his own part,
perhaps in an allusion to Ᾱnanda’s rash notion that he thought he understood
dependent origination, Buddhaghosa pauses in hesitation and humility at
64. Vibh-a 199–200: Evaṃ mahāpathaviṃ pattharanto viya ākāsaṃ vitthārayanto viya ca
sabbadhammesu appaṭihatañāṇo satthā suttantabhājanīye niggaṇṭhiṃ nijjaṭaṃ paccayākāraṃ
nānācittavasena dassetvā idāni yasmā na kevalaṃ ayaṃ paccayākāro nānācittesuyeva hoti,
ekacittepi hotiyeva, tasmā abhidhammabhājanīyavasena ekacittakkhaṇikaṃ paccayākāraṃ
nānappakārato dassetuṃ avijjāpaccayā saṅkhārotiādinā nayena mātikaṃ tāva ṭhapesi.
65. Vibh-a 129–30; see Ñāñamoli, trans., The Dispeller of Delusion, vol. 1, 161–62. Cf. Vism 522
[XVII.25].
66. Vism 524: So desanāvilāsappattattā nānānayeheva dhammaṃ deseti. This is in a larger
passage about how beneficial dependent origination is and about the beauty of the Buddha’s
ways of teaching it from various starting points, and important theme in the Visuddhimagga’s
treatment of it (ch. XVII).
Disentangling the Tangle 177
the task of commenting on it. He says, “today I want to teach the commen-
tary on the mode of conditions, but I find no footing, as though I have been
plunged into the ocean.”67 But he rallies, noting that the “dispensation as it is
laid down is embellished with many methods of teaching.”68 Its many starting
points and practices make it possible to find somewhere to begin. Properly
understood, the only response to the Buddha’s omniscient enactment of the
endlessly ramifying exploration of conditions is to find oneself “unfooted,”
even while one can eventually find traction with a toehold in the methods that
start to explore it.
What is notable about these distinctions between Abhidhamma Analysis
and Suttanta Analysis is that they do not mention, nor do they practice, the
distinction between conventional and ultimate language— terms associated
with paramattha language are used in both in each of the Vibhaṅga’s sections.
Moreover, the Vibhaṅga is an Abhidhamma text, but it is using throughout, very
extensively, the Suttanta Analysis as one of its practices, illustrating again the
porousness of these methods and distinctions of genre.
The third method of analysis is Asking Questions. In the Vibhaṅga, this is
practiced as a rather stylized kind of catechetical matrix that continues with the
twofold and threefold analysis begun in the Dhammasaṅgaṇī. For example, and as
we have seen, a major structure of the Dhammasaṅgaṇī is classifying phenomena
according to their being good (kusala), bad, and indeterminate. Thus the Asking
Questions section of the Vibhaṅga asks what, for example, are the good, bad,
and indeterminate aggregates (and so on for its eighteen categories). As a rather
fixed and formulaic style of analysis in the Vibhaṅga and its commentary, the use
of a series of questions as a matrix or starting place for exposition, is not enor-
mously productive. But it may have inspired a method that Buddhaghosa deploys
in the Visuddhimagga, which is to frequently structure his discussions of a topic
by a series of questions that get at the varieties, functions, ways of being known,
and practical concerns for the purification of phenomena. His opening chapter
on morality (sīla), for example, is structured by a matrix of questions: “what is
morality? In what sense is it morality? What are its characteristic, function, man-
ifestation, and proximate cause? What are the benefits of morality? How many
kinds of morality are there? What is the staining of it? What is the cleansing of
it?”69 Long answers to each of these follow. Structured analysis through this sort
of questioning is a deeply engrained practice throughout the literature.
The Paṭṭhāna (Starting Points) is the most monumental and daunting of
the Abhidhamma texts. It introduces a list of twenty-four types of conditions
(paccaya) and applies them to the twenty-two threefold and the one hundred
twofold classifications of the Dhammasaṅgaṇī. This text takes the methods of
dependent origination beyond their usual account of the manifested conditions
and effects into a deeper treatment of all kinds of conditionality, causes, and
effects at work in experience.70 In the first section of the text we find a formula of
seven questions to be applied to each of the seven main chapters, which can then
allow the further application of the twenty-four types of conditions to these. U
Nārada helps us understand the algorithmic fecundity of the text:
When the rest of the seven sections are each taken as reference, by turns,
there is a set of 7 × 7 = 49 questions for root condition alone. For the 24
conditions taken singly, therefore, there are 49 × 24 = 1,176 questions.
From this it can be judged that the number of questions for the whole of
the Paṭṭḥāna must be of a very high order. According to the commentary,
the figure is 404,948,533,248 and the subcommentary, 388,778,713,344. In
the Pali text, however, all the questions are not included, but only those
that are necessary for illustrating the types of questions. . . . If all of them
were to be put into print, it would need over 3 crores of books of 400
pages each.71
And this is just the listing of questions; the text goes on to list the answers. And
the text itself is just the “Starting Points” of the analysis of conditionality, rather
than its exhaustive description.72
It is not clear that the text has ever been fully printed out or recited, or that it
would need to be. U Nārada reports, “the Burmese Mahātheras of old estimated
that if the Paṭṭḥāna Text, as expanded, were to be put into print there would be
three cartloads of books.”73 He goes on to note that the classificatory answers the
text produces are not as important as its methods: “the Paṭṭhāna is interesting only
when the methods for arriving at these answers are known.”74 Perhaps all possible
ramifications do not need to be fully articulated once all the methods of classi-
fication are generated or at least signaled. This again suggests that Abhidhamma
texts, here revealed at their most expansive, are classificatory practices aimed not
at a final delivery of ultimate reals, but instead at an enactment of method. This
extraordinary textual performance of enormity may be why Buddhaghosa found
the Paṭṭhāna to be the Buddha’s omniscience at its most oceanic.
The Paṭṭhāna commentary gives several different interpretations of the name
“Paṭṭhāna,” first deriving it from the sounds of its name from pakāra (way) and
ṭhāna (position, stance, condition) to mean something like “the various ways
of conditions.”75 Alternatively it means “analyzing” (vibhajana) following a
sutta that lists several practices: “making understood, establishing, uncovering,
analyzing, showing.”76 Or it means “setting forth” in much the way that cattle
set forth out of their cowpens when let out.77 Buddhaghosa reiterates in this
context his favorite theme of the Paṭṭhāna’s unique expansiveness: “because of
its setting forth and furthering the twenty-four paṭṭhānas, the Paṭṭhāna alone
achieves the expanded methods in the divisions and classifications of the causes
and conditions, et cetera, such as kusala, et cetera, of the omniscient knowledge
which is in fact not unobstructed when set forth in the Dhammasaṅgaṇī and
other [Abhidhamma treatises].”78 Only in the Paṭṭhāna is the omniscient mind
truly unobstructed, and thus only in it can the practitioner properly begin to
grasp fully the scope of that mind.
Finally, Buddhaghosa asserts that however the term is derived, “this treatise
[or performance] called the Paṭṭhāna is to be understood to be for the complete
abolishing of all conditions.”79 The dual sense of “treatise” and “performance” in
the word pakaraṇa captures the enactive quality of this text: it is a textual com-
position and enactment of a practice. And, as always, the point of knowing all
the possible causal and conditioning relationships among phenomena is to break
free of their tangles. These practices are therapeutic and soteriological, aiming at,
Buddhaghosa says, “achieving purification and reaching happiness, the highest
happiness of nirvana, free of grief, unattached.”80
83. To cite two typical examples, the three characteristics of saṃsāra involve repeat-
edly seeing constructions (saṅkhāras) as impermanent, painful, and not-self as a prac-
tice for understanding: “one again applies the three characteristics to the constructions by
knowledge of reflecting and contemplating, and so comprehends” (puna te yeva saṅkhāre
paṭisaṅkhānupassanāñāṇena tilakkhaṇam āropetvā parigaṇhati; Vism 652 [XXI.47], noting
that this needs to be read in terms of the whole passage to see more fully the work of the
meditation practice). There is the contemplation (anupassana) of anattā, among many other
meditation practices in Vism 50 (I.140) and 696 (XXII.117), for instance. Also chapter XX
can serve as a good example of practices that involve defining, contemplating, and applying the
three characteristics to particular phenomena. These “doctrines” are practices.
84. In addition to the treatment of Nyanaponika Thera’s and Bhikkhu Bodhi’s ideas about phe-
nomenology and ontology mentioned earlier (n 11), readers may wish to consider Thanissaro
Bhikkhu’s arguments that the Buddha’s non-self teachings worked as a type of “strategy,” rather
than as metaphysical tenets (“The Non-Self Strategy”); but see also Bhikkhu Bodhi’s rebuttal
of this, “Anattā as Strategy and Ontology.” My argument is not about the suttas nor the canon-
ical layer as a whole; rather my focus is Buddhaghosa’s philosophical methods and orientation,
which none of these authors considers systematically.
85. Vibh 70 deploys the three characteristics as a device for analyzing the twelve bases (āyatana),
and the Paṭṭhāna deploys them in several contexts describing those who “observe the aggregates
as lacking self, impermanent, and suffering” (khandhe aniccato dukkhato anattato vipassanti),
a formula also applied to saṅkhāras, sensory experience and its objects, kusala and akusala ex-
perience, and so forth (Myanmar edition of the Paṭṭhāna, I. 135, I.146, I.162). They are ways of
seeing and observing phenomena by the observer.
Disentangling the Tangle 183
training, a vital opportunity for contact with the Buddha’s omniscient ken and
the starting place for the future. Like the origin stories (nidānas) of the suttas,
narrative occasions are the sites where the Buddha’s interactions with his disci-
ples reveal his knowledge of their particular circumstances. The occasion of the
rules is also a moment in which the Buddha’s omniscience is demonstrated in his
capacity to anticipate the future. Incidents become “occasions” when the Buddha
discerns that what has happened in the particular case is significant for the future,
and needs to be developed into a general rule that will govern the entire saṅgha.
For surely, it is an ideal legal code that can address immediate circumstances but
also foresees the future. The Vinaya, in Buddhaghosa’s view, depicts the Buddha
formulating rules that address simultaneously the needs of his immediate saṅgha
even while they serve as general precedent for future cases. In this way they dem-
onstrate the Buddha’s omniscient ken extending to the future.
The canonical Vinaya has a perhaps surprising amount of biographical
material, indicating both the long arc of the Buddha’s awakening as well as his
day-to-day episodes with his disciples from which the rules emerge. The Vinaya
does not just give the rules but also records the stories of the rules within the
teaching career of the Buddha and in relationship to the narrative of his awak-
ening. For Buddhaghosa, part of this is because, like the other piṭakas, the
Vinaya is configured to be an encounter with the Buddha’s qualities and story. In
addition, and more specific to this genre on monastic discipline, the biograph-
ical narratives are deemed indispensable to the distinctive type of interactive and
dialogical pedagogy in this genre because the rules are conditioned by the actual
people in his community; it is the community that creates the conditions for
the rules to emerge. Buddhaghosa’s commentarial work on the Vinaya goes even
further than the canonical texts to make the Buddha and his interlocutors avail-
able, in concrete and immediate narrative terms, to the reader. His opening to
the Vinaya offers both contemplative exaltations of the Buddha’s qualities and
narrative development that foster a relationship of personal involvement of the
reader with the Buddha.
The heart of the chapter is a close reading of part of the Samantapāsādikā,
in particular Buddhaghosa’s nidāna to the opening story of the Vinaya text that
begins with the Buddha’s encounter with a Brahmin at a town called Verañjā,
and ends just prior to his laying down the first rule on the occasion of the
first violation of the monastic code of behavior by a monk called Sudinna. It
is through reading this commentary (nearly a hundred pages in the text) that
we learn to approach, with Buddhaghosa, this body of knowledge. But first, we
need to get an overall picture of the Vinaya texts and how they are presented in
various forms.
186 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
1. Vin ii.286. The Samantapāsādikā echoes this (Sp i.14), and as I describe later, this formula-
tion is the main structure of the Parivāra.
“Completely Pleasing” Exegesis on the Vinaya 187
and his formulating rules of monastic etiquette and conduct over time, usually
as a response to criticism from laypeople about his monks or a problem arising
from within the community itself. The Cūḷavagga picks up the narrative of the
Buddha’s career and continues through his passing away and the recitation of the
first two councils following his parinibbāna.
Finally, the Parivāra, the last book, returns to a catechetical format of asking
where, to whom, on what subject, and so forth, each rule was established. Its
colophon identifies Dīpa as its redactor (Vin v.226), but little is known about
him. Buddhaghosa insists that the work is, like the rest of the Vinaya corpus,
buddhavacana (though some of this piṭaka concerns events long after the Buddha’s
parinibbāna and is often presented in the words of others).2 The Parivāra extracts
the particulars of the rules from their narrative contexts to provide a type of
question mātikā of the sort we are already familiar with (we saw Buddhaghosa
apply a similar line of questioning to establish when and where the Abhidhamma
was taught, for example). Like the other books of the Vinaya, this is a long text,
despite its clipped, just-the-facts style of presentation. Collectively the three main
books of the Vinaya Piṭaka take up six substantial volumes in I. B. Horner’s trans-
lation of them.
Notable from even this brief précis of the Vinaya corpus is just how much
commentary, of different sorts, constitutes these canonical texts. The texts are
mostly stories, even in the case of the Parivāra, which strips down the narratives
to their bare skeletons. Each rule occurs because of an infraction prompting it, a
situation deemed necessary, as we see in what follows, for the Buddha’s prescribing
the rules to begin with, and the narratives often give us considerable detail as
to the circumstances of the Buddha’s laying down a rule. Often there are word
glosses folded into the canonical presentation, particularly in the Suttavibhaṅga
(and in a brief passage in the Khandhaka). And the Parivāra itself is a second-
order commentarial practice of questioning and contraction.
Perhaps the most striking commentarial material in the Vinaya corpus is the
overarching narrative of the Buddha’s career that constitutes the dominant frame
of the Khandhaka. Previous scholars have noticed this and drawn attention to the
very long, and quite literary biography it presents.3 And the “biography” extends
after the Buddha’s parinibbāna and through the first two councils, presenting a
history of the Vinaya itself to this point. The Cūḷavagga renders an account of
how the three piṭakas were codified and first recited and then the perils of schism
leading to the Second Council at Vesālī that seems to be the basis for all later
commentarial exposition on this point. This material may well have been the seed
of the subsequent Pali chronicle tradition.
As noted, the rules themselves, even with descriptions of the kammavācās, can
be stated quite concisely, but the redactors insisted that they be presented in the
course of the biographical narrative of the Buddha’s teaching career, whether in
the context of the career as described in the discrete episodes of the Suttavibhaṅga
or in the chronological biography of the Khandhaka. This point is highlighted in
the recitation and codification of this piṭaka given at the end of the Cūḷavagga.
When Upāli is asked to recite the Vinaya, he is queried not just for his memori-
zation of each rule, but on where, when, and to whom each rule emerged, just as
Ᾱnanda is for his memory of the suttas. Upāli’s recitation of these particulars for
each rule becomes the Vinaya Piṭaka (Cūḷavagga xi).
Modern scholars have sometimes seen the narratives in which each rule is
embedded as extraneous to the rules themselves; some scholars have suggested
that the bare rules were the “original” text and the commentarial stories grew
up around them.4 Dieter Schlingloff observes that the explanations of the
rules sometimes seem to detract from the meaning, are implausible, and even
descend into “a mindless casuistry.”5 In contrast, I. B. Horner argues that the
stories allow for a developed understanding of the exceptions and qualifications
of the rules and the reasoning behind the different grades of penalty for each
rule.6 Jotiya Dhirasekera insists that many of the rules would be unintelligible
without the narrative commentary in which they are embedded, and that at
see a single story here as constituting the core of all subsequent biographies (History of Indian
Buddhism, 176–78).
4. See, for example, von Hinüber, A Handbook of Pāli Literature, 13–14. He notes that the
“introductory story does not always really suit the rule,” and that “from the point of view of
Buddhist law the introductions are unnecessary.” He observes the rules in the Suttavibhaṅga
are not presented “chronologically” in the order in which the violations took place, but much
more systematically (starting with the four defeats and going through each category of offense
in an orderly fashion). Oldenberg has also argued that the Pātimokkha was the earliest kernel
of the Vinaya (as quoted in Dhirasekera, Buddhist Monastic Discipline, 80).
5. That is, “eine geistlose Kasuistik” (Schlingloff, “Zur Interpretaton des Prātimokṣasūtra,” 538).
He gives several examples of what he means. He argues that the stories are not usually impor-
tant (and are sometimes misleading) for interpreting the meaning or reasoning of the rules, but
they can offer interesting narrative and historical sources in their own right.
6. As Horner argues, though she allows that “these groups of stories are apt to be tedious to
Western readers” (The Book of the Discipline, vol. 1, xxxv).
“Completely Pleasing” Exegesis on the Vinaya 189
least the majority of the stories “serve a useful purpose in the proper under-
standing of the law.”7
I do not have a position on the historical development of these layers of texts,
but rather I focus on what the Vinaya and Buddhaghosa’s commentary on it say
about these questions. I am interested in exploring the logic of what the texts
themselves assume or insist on and how they present the rules and what is impor-
tant to know about them. For its part, the canonical Vinaya presents each rule
as encircled by a story. It also includes a narrative of the Buddha stating that he
cannot teach the rules without an incident prompting it and in relation to which
it must be understood. In some important way, while the recitation of the bare
Pātimokkha rules has a crucial function and purpose in the Uposatha ritual, and
as a monk Buddhaghosa himself would have known and practiced it in this form,
it is also the case that the Vinaya Piṭaka is given to us as a whole package and
Buddhaghosa is also interested in this “whole.”
Like the person who knows neither the rule nor the analysis of it, such a person
“does not consider the meaning and [so] evades the meaning in the shadow of the
phrasing,” and should for this reason be recused from the legal deliberations.11
Buddhaghosa reads this in strong terms, suggesting that “evades the meaning in
the shadow of the phrasing” means that “having grasped only the mere phrasing,
he prevents the meaning.”12
This suggests that at least in the case of legal exegesis and procedure, essen-
tial meaning comes from the canonical text’s commentarial analysis (vibhaṅga)
in which the rules are embedded.13 It also rejects a purely literal reading of rules
in favor of gleaning meaning from context, that is, the context in which the orig-
inal rule was established. The Vinaya expert (vinayadhara) does not rely on the
phrasing alone, but also on the meaning achieved from considering the anal-
ysis given in the Suttavibhaṅga. Buddhaghosa furnishes as an example the rule
prohibiting monks from handling gold and silver: where Vinaya experts would
be able to see that the prohibition of monks touching gold and silver extends to
all wealth and property connected to gold and silver, those who know only the
wording of the rule might judge in a narrow manner that the rule prohibits hand-
ling only gold and silver.14 We can say that a literal or “plain language” standard
of interpretation is being rejected here, in favor of contextual interpretation.
Elsewhere I have suggested that casuistry or case law is a rational form of legal
reasoning.15
I have also elsewhere explored how Buddhaghosa reads and expands the
contextual details of the first four rules, the most serious infractions in the
Vinaya, which require the offending monk or nun to be disrobed.16 I have
11. Vin ii.97: ‘‘Suṇantu me āyasmantā. Ayaṃ itthannāmo bhikkhu dhammakathiko. Imassa
suttañhi kho āgataṃ hoti, no suttavibhaṅgo. So atthaṃ asallakkhento byañjanacchāyāya atthaṃ
paṭibāhati. Yadāyasmantānaṃ pattakallaṃ, itthannāmaṃ bhikkhuṃ vuṭṭhāpetvā avasesā
imaṃ adhikaraṇaṃ vūpasameyyāmāti.
12. Sp vi.1197: Byañjanacchāyāya atthaṃ paṭibāhatīti byañjanamattameva gahetvā atthaṃ
paṭisedheti.
13. This may differ from other uses of language like epithets of the Buddha that deliver their
innate meaning from the sounds of the words themselves, as discussed in chapter 2 concerning
the practices of nirutti analysis.
14. Sp vi.1197: Jātarūparajatakhettavatthupaṭiggahaṇādīsu vinayadharehi bhikkhūhi āpattiyā
kāriyamāne disvā ‘‘kiṃ ime āpattiyā kāretha, ‘nanu jātarūparajatapaṭiggahaṇā paṭivirato hotī’ti
evaṃ sutte paṭiviratimattameva vuttaṃ, natthi ettha āpattī’’ti vadati.
15. On casuistry, Heim, The Forerunner of All Things, 149, and Huxley’s arguments about this
(“Buddhist Case Law on Theft,” 313–19).
16. Heim, The Forerunner of All Things, 147–69.
“Completely Pleasing” Exegesis on the Vinaya 191
argued that the stories of these rules are richly drawn, both in the canonical
commentary and in the additional narrative details Buddhaghosa supplies in
his commentary. The narratives portray complex people caught in unfortunate
and difficult circumstances. For example, Sudinna, the monk who committed
the first monastic infraction and thus initiated the beginning of the Buddha’s
laying down of all the rules, introduced the offense of sexual intercourse into
the community. The rule itself makes it easy to censure him, and the Buddha
rebukes him harshly; but the commentaries portray a complicated and
unfortunate set of circumstances that provide a morally complex and hu-
mane legal education for the Vinaya expert. Sudinna was hardly a depraved
person succumbing to wanton lust and disgrace. Rather, he was an earnest and
devout monk striving to pursue the monastic life. But his parents, fearing
penury in their old age (as he was their only son and he had no issue), prevailed
upon him to sleep briefly with his former wife to produce an heir. Nor are
his parents particularly craven in this—their characters are drawn quite sensi-
tively and they are motivated by fear of certain destitution, deep love of their
son, and concern for their daughter-in-law. None of this mitigates the harsh
penalty and reprimand he receives—in this respect the Buddha has an eye on
the future and legislates in no uncertain terms against sexual activity in any
circumstance and for any motivation. But it does present Vinaya law and ped-
agogy in terms of the complicated and situational circumstances in which it
is formulated and in which the redactors and commentators intended it to be
adjudicated.
Here I wish to go further into the nature of the pedagogy as it is devel-
oped in these texts. I now see more clearly that these styles of legal reasoning
are connected, at perhaps every juncture, to the Buddha’s biography, and ulti-
mately to the Buddha’s field of knowledge. The stories furnish a complex legal
education conducive to discovering meaning in the rules and applying it to
make legal judgments. They do so because, at least in the interpretative prac-
tice that Buddhaghosa promotes, they give us direct access to the Buddha’s dis-
tinctive pedagogy where a personal and transformative relationship with the
Buddha is being fostered. We turn in the next section to exploring further what
Buddhaghosa thinks this genre is and how his theory of Vinaya shaped his inter-
pretative practice.
Buddhaghosa’s Vinaya
We may recall Buddhaghosa’s claim that on four occasions the greatness of the
Buddha’s knowledge may be glimpsed:
192 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
I have already discussed how Buddhaghosa takes these to mean several different
genres—the “planes of existence” refers to the Abhidhamma, and the “differences
of doctrines” refers to the Brahmajāla Sutta, the beginning of the Suttanta.18 Here
we may take a closer look at how he thinks the Vinaya, in particular, gives ex-
pression to buddhas’ greatness. The Vinaya reveals this because in it the Buddha
specifies:
“this is light, this is heavy, this is curable, this is incurable, this is an offense,
this is not an offense, this leads to being cut off, this leads to rehabilitation,
this leads to instruction, this is blamable by the world, this is blamable
because of the rules, in such a case such should be declared.” No one else
is powerful or strong when it comes to the laying down of the cases that
constitute the declaration of the monastic rules. This is the scope of the
Tathāgata alone and not the scope of others.19
The ability to discern the gravity of an action and its significance both for the
individual concerned and the institution of the early and future Buddhist com-
munity is revealed as extraordinary knowledge.
We have also seen that like the other two piṭakas, the Vinaya is not only a basket
that holds a collection of texts, but is a practice in learning or study (pariyatti).
17. Sv i.100: Buddhānañhi cattāri ṭhānāni patvā gajjitaṃ mahantaṃ hoti, ñāṇaṃ anupavisati,
buddhañāṇassa mahantabhāvo paññāyati, desanā gambhīrā hoti, tilakkhaṇāhatā, suññatāpaṭis
aṃyuttā. Katamāni cattāri? Vinayapaññattiṃ, bhūmantaraṃ, paccayākāraṃ, samayantaranti.
See c hapter 3, p. 130 for my earlier discussion of this passage.
18. The Suttanta is sometimes represented by its first sutta, the Brahmajāla Sutta: Buddhaghosa
defines the Suttanta Piṭaka as a “teaching on explaining views, for the explaining of views is
taught in it as what opposes the holding of the sixty-two views” (dvāsaṭṭhidiṭṭhipaṭipakkhabhūtā
diṭṭhiviniveṭhanā ettha kathitāti diṭṭhiviniveṭhanakathā [Sv i.19; As 21; Sp 22]).
19. Sv i.101: ‘‘idaṃ lahukaṃ, idaṃ garukaṃ, idaṃ satekicchaṃ, idaṃ atekicchaṃ, ayaṃ
āpatti, ayaṃ anāpatti, ayaṃ chejjagāminī, ayaṃ vuṭṭhānagāminī, ayaṃ desanāgāminī, ayaṃ
lokavajjā, ayaṃ paṇṇattivajjā, imasmiṃ vatthusmiṃ idaṃ paññapetabba’’nti yaṃ evaṃ otiṇṇe
vatthusmiṃ sikkhāpadapaññāpanaṃ nāma, tattha aññesaṃ thāmo vā balaṃ vā natthi; avisayo
esa aññesaṃ, tathāgatasseva visayo.
“Completely Pleasing” Exegesis on the Vinaya 193
And like the other two piṭakas, it is a kind of training, a kind of avoidance, and has
four kinds of depth. The Vinaya is a training in higher moral precepts, an avoid-
ance of the transgressions since “precepts oppose the transgressions caused by the
defilements,” and it goes deep in four ways (in the Dhamma, in the meaning, in
the teaching, and in comprehension).20 In defining Vinaya vis-à-vis the two other
piṭakas, Buddhaghosa says this:
The Vinaya is called “vinaya” by those wise in the meaning of vinaya because
it contains various and distinctive methods and because it disciplines body
and speech.21
In his nirutti analysis the sound “vi” in vinaya delivers vividha (various), visesa
(distinctive), and wise (vidū), and “naya” in vinaya highlights methods (naya).
Specifically, its “methods are various in reference to the fivefold recitation (uddesa) of
the Pātimokkha, which can be divided into the matrix (mātikā) of the seven sections
on offenses beginning with the defeats, and the analysis (vibhaṅga), et cetera.”22 Here
the skeletal matrix is referred to where the Vinaya methods are apparent in the brief
formulation of the recitation. Further, these “have become distinctive because the
methods of supplementary regulations aim to make flexible what is rigid, and it
disciplines body and speech by restraining physical and verbal transgression.”23 These
glosses define and develop what is meant by the Vinaya, its flexibility, its reach, and
its limitations (it does not legislate the disciplining of the mind, for example).
Additionally, he says that “the Vinaya Piṭaka is instruction by authority [or
rule] taught by the Bhagavan who is worthy of authority and whose authority
is abundant.”24 The ultimate ground or basis of the rules is the authority of the
Buddha. One way to understand the pervasive presence of the Buddha and his
20. As 21–22; Sp i.22; Sv i.19–20. See my discussion of these in c hapter 1, pp. 50–52, and
Appendix C.
21. Sp 18; As 19; Sv 17: Vividhavisesanayattā, vinayanato ceva kāyavācānaṃ vinayatthavidūhi
ayaṃ, vinayo vinayoti akkhāto.
22. Sp 18; As 19; Sv 17: Vividhā hi ettha pañcavidhapātimokkhuddesapārājikādi sattaāpattikkhandh
amātikāvibhaṅgādippabhedā nayā. The Bhikkhu recitation is divided into five parts: the introduc-
tion (nidāna), the pārājika, the saṅghādisesa, the aniyata, and the vitthāra (which includes the rest of
the rules). The Bhikkhunī recitation has only four parts, excluding the aniyata (Upasak, Dictionary
of Early Buddhist Monastic Terms, 43). The seven kinds of offenses are pārājika, saṅghādisesa,
aniyata, nissaggiya pācittiya, pācittiya, pāṭidesaniya, and sekhiya. There are many descriptions of
these, but see von Hinüber, A Handbook of Pāli Literature, 10–12, for a brief overview.
23. Sp 19; As 19; Sv 17: visesabhūtā ca daḷhīkammasithilakaraṇappayojanā anupaññattinayā, kā
yikavācasikaajjhācāranisedhanato cesa kāyaṃ vācañca vineti.
24. Sp 21; As 21; Sv 19: vinayapiṭakaṃ āṇārahena bhagavatā āṇābāhullato desitattā āṇādesanā.
194 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
story throughout the Vinaya texts is that it buttresses and displays this very
appeal to authority. John Holt has raised an important question in this regard:
Saṅgha and support for it in the larger society. For example, communities seem
to work better when the well-behaved are assured that scofflaws will be checked.
The passage suggests that the Buddha’s authority in initiating the rules rests not
on an unquestioned mandate (only), but rather on making available a pragmatic
rationality for how they support a successful community. The rules also make
people happy and faithful.
Still, we have just seen Buddhaghosa make a strong appeal to the authority (āṇā)
of the Buddha, and his frequent reference to the Buddha’s knowledge brings the full
force of that authoritative knowledge to bear in grounding Vinaya law. It is worth
noting, however, that the role that the Buddha’s omniscience plays in authorizing
the Vinaya rules is neither vague nor unsubstantiated. As I have been demonstrating
throughout, Buddhaghosa is very specific about what he means by the Buddha’s
omniscience and its specific and concrete workings. In fact, he sees the interpre-
tative project itself as demonstrating how the texts known as buddhavacana com-
prise the precise movements of an omniscient understanding and pedagogy. The
Buddha’s omniscient mind that authorizes his teachings is accessible to us, at least
partially. The Vinaya texts are the authoritative commands of the Buddha, but those
commands are the very practices of his omniscient understanding of past, present,
and future demonstrable in scripture, which we are learning how to access through
the exegetical project.
We may continue with Buddhaghosa’s general remarks on what the Vinaya is.
The Vinaya is the “dispensation according to offense” in that “beings whose offenses
are many are taught here according to those offenses.”28 This detail is important in
that it suggests that the Vinaya comes into the world necessitated by the commission
of wrong action, and that each rule matches in an appropriate way the transgres-
sion it targets—features we discuss later. Further, the Vinaya is “a teaching by var-
ious kinds of restraint because in it the kinds of restraint which are the opposing
of transgressions are taught.”29 Ultimately the rules are a part of a larger regime of
restraint that constitutes the monastic life.
Finally, we might here recall that among his general remarks about piṭaka and
genre Buddhaghosa says that two piṭakas, the Abhidhamma and the Vinaya, pro-
duce much pleasure. It seems that “endless joy and happiness arise for sons of good
families abounding in faith, full of serene clarity, and supremely knowledgeable
who contemplate these two texts.”30 (As we have noted, this is not always evident
to modern scholars.) In the previous chapter we were introduced to the sublime
happiness of contemplating the Buddha’s omniscient ken through the methods
of the oceanic Abhidhamma. But why would the Vinaya produce such joy and
happiness? He explains: “when monks who are Vinaya experts are contemplating
the Vinaya text, that is, the declaring of the rules according to faults, [they re-
alize] that it is the ken of buddhas alone, not the scope of others [to know] ‘in this
fault, in this transgression there is the declaring of a rule.’ ”31 Buddhas can perceive
in human actions infractions of various degrees of severity and then fashion an
appropriate rule that will come to govern the entire Saṅgha. To know the text
well is to encounter the Buddha, for only his mind could have produced it, and
contemplating the Buddha is itself great happiness for Buddhaghosa. This may be
why he called his commentary “Completely Pleasing.”
The External Nidāna
The Samantapāsādikā begins with what Buddhaghosa calls the “External
Nidāna” (bahirnidāna),32 a substantial portion of text describing events that
happened subsequent to the Buddha’s parinibbāna, and thus “external to” or out-
side of the events described in the Vinaya itself. It gives predictions and their
fulfillments, accounts of the three councils, the succession of teachers, and the
transmission of the teachings from India to Lanka that construct and authorize
the Mahāvihāra historical memory of their tradition. We have considered some
of its material earlier on the general reflections on piṭaka and Vinaya. Though
the Samantapāsādikā as a whole has been little explored by modern scholars, this
portion of the Vinaya commentary is comparatively well studied and translated,
and has been useful for scholars attempting to piece together how the early his-
tory was remembered.33
My analysis for the remainder of this chapter focuses not on the external
nidāna but on the opening section of text that happens right after it and
continues for nearly a hundred pages. This is Buddhaghosa’s nidāna on the be-
ginning of the canonical Vinaya, which he calls the “Section on Verañjā,” and his
way of introducing the canonical text (in contrast to the context outside of the
canonical Vinaya regarding its transmission). The Vinaya opens with a story
about the Buddha’s encounter with a Brahmin at Verañjā, and provides several
smaller narratives concerning Mahāmoggalana’s response to a famine in that re-
gion and Sāriputta’s request for the monastic rules. We follow Buddhaghosa’s
commentary on these narratives beginning first of all with what it means to have
an occasion for the Buddha’s teachings (a translated selection from this commen-
tary is provided in Appendix B).
On One Occasion
The opening sentence of the Suttavibhaṅga, the first book of the Vinaya, reads:
On [or because of ] that occasion the Buddha, the Bhagavan, was staying
at Verañjā at the root of the Naleru Pucimanda tree together with a great
community of five hundred monks.34
Buddhaghosa is interested first with what it means that this happened “on” or
“because of ” that occasion. And he notices that the first words of each of the
three piṭakas start with an “occasion.” The Brahmajāla Sutta starting the Suttanta
starts with this sentence:
Thus have I heard: on one occasion the Bhagavan was traveling a long road
from Rājagaha and Nāḷanda with a great community of five hundred
monks.35
And the opening to the Dhammasaṅgaṇī, the first book of the Abhidhamma
opens thus:
34. Vin iii.1: Tena samayena buddho bhagavā verañjāyaṃ viharati naḷerupucimandamūle
mahatā bhikkhusaṅghena saddhiṃ pañcamattehi bhikkhusatehi.
35. D i.i: Evaṃ me sutaṃ—ekaṃ samayaṃ bhagavā antarā ca rājagahaṃ antarā ca nāḷandaṃ
addhānamaggappaṭipanno hoti mahatā bhikkhusaṅghena saddhiṃ pañcamattehi bhikkhusatehi.
198 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
In each case, the knowledge that follows gets its start on a concrete occasion
(samaya). Buddhaghosa provides a range of possibilities for “occasion”: it can be
a “meeting, a moment, a time, a multitude, a cause (or reason or motivation),
a view, an acquisition, an abandoning, and a comprehension.”37 He goes on to
explain that a teaching can be occasioned by people meeting together, for ex-
ample, or by an opportune moment, or by the Bhagavan having a reason for
initiating it. In the case of the Vinaya passage before him, he says that “here
‘occasion’ means ‘time’—
This refers to a story we shall come to shortly that is embedded in the Verañjā
story that has Sāriputta asking the Buddha to give the rules and the Buddha
refusing to do so until they are occasioned by a violation. This becomes the reason
this story is here and it also sets up the Vinaya rules as having been solicited; the
Vinaya is on record as something that was asked for.
But what happens next is important in terms of thinking about the nature
of the three piṭakas and the different ways a teaching can said to be occasioned.
Buddhaghosa notices that in each of the three opening lines of each piṭaka
“occasion” is in a different grammatical case: instrumental in the Vinaya opening
(tena samayena), accusative in the Suttanta (ekaṃ samayaṃ), and locative in the
Abhidhamma (yasmiṃ samaye . . . tasmiṃ samaye). Why is this? He says that the
36. Dhs 8: Katame dhammā kusalā? Yasmiṃ samaye kāmāvacaraṃ kusalaṃ cittaṃ uppannaṃ
hoti somanassasahagataṃ ñāṇasampayuttaṃ rūpārammaṇaṃ vā saddārammaṇaṃ vā
gandhārammaṇaṃ vā rasārammaṇaṃ vā phoṭṭhabbārammaṇaṃ vā dhammārammaṇaṃ vā
yaṃ yaṃ vā panārabbha, tasmiṃ samaye phasso hoti, vedanā hoti.
37. Sp i.107: Samavāye khaṇe kāle, samūhe hetu-diṭṭhisu; paṭilābhe pahāne ca, paṭivedhe ca.
38. Sp i.107: Idha panassa kālo attho. Tasmā yena kālena āyasmato sāriputtassa
vinayapaññattiyācanahetubhūto parivitakko udapādi, tena kālenāti evamettha attho daṭṭhabbo.
“Completely Pleasing” Exegesis on the Vinaya 199
hand that he exerts—an alternative view is advanced alongside that of the ancient
commentators (and noted as such).
For my purposes, the creative reading of the case endings for this phrase in
each genre is conceptually important in that it begins to specify how the teachings
constituting rules come to be laid down and because it is another attempt by
Buddhaghosa to consider genre. It should also be noted that this discussion, var-
iously modified, occurs in each of the commentaries on the three piṭakas, and
elsewhere too, as a bit of traveling text that found wide application for setting
out what the text in question was doing and what occasioned its presence in the
world.44 In terms of the Vinaya as a whole, and the particular narrative rules, it
is an explicit statement of the importance of context for the prompting of this
kind of buddhavacana, and the importance of it in the production of meaning.
Specifically, it suggests that Vinaya rules were not given in advance by the Buddha
but only brought into the world when they were caused by actual incidents,
demonstrating the interactive and dialogical nature of the Buddha’s omniscient
engagement with the world (as we see later). We can suggest that where nidāna
was a key category for the contextualization of the Suttanta, in the Vinaya samaya,
with its range of meanings, is a chief category for context and the fashioning of a
certain kind of context in the development of meaning.
The contrast of the instrumental use of “samaya” in the Vinaya may be marked
by a passage on “on one occasion” that occurs only in the Suttanta commentaries
on the suttas, that gives a very different emphasis.
With the expression “on one occasion the Bhagavan” showing that the
Bhagavan is not present at this occasion, the final nirvana of [his] form
body (rūpakāya) is made clear. By it [that is, by this expression] people
only intoxicated with life get stirred up, and it generates urgency for
Legal Commentaries,” 14, and von Hinüber, “Zu einer Göttingere Dissertation über das
Buddhistische Recht,” 107. For me, this statement is most interesting in its use of “or”—the
view stated last could be authoritative even if it is neither the view of the Theras nor the older
aṭṭhakathā. This seems to suggest some independence from the views of the elders and the
old commentaries. In any case, “authoritative” need not mean the only correct possibility.
Buddhaghosa is not engaging in pūrvapakṣa-style philosophical argumentation where the
opponent’s view is placed first, refuted, and then the author’s view (the siddhānta) is stated last.
While capable of coming down decisively in favor of one view over another (as for example,
Vism 102–103 [III.74–83]), Buddhaghosa often engages in a different, but equally prevalent,
Indic style often seen in śāstric discourse of naming multiple alternatives, without giving his
preferred option.
44. Sv i.32–33; Ps i.9; A i.12; Pj i.105; Ud i.21–23, et cetera (the Udāna is ascribed to Dhammapāla).
The Atthasālinī has only an abbreviated version of this discussion, just mentioning the locative
case as relevant to the Abhidhamma passage (As 61).
“Completely Pleasing” Exegesis on the Vinaya 201
them in the Good Dhamma, for [it conveys that] “the Teacher of a noble
Dhamma such as this, the Bearer of Ten Powers, with a body like a mass of
diamonds, the Bhagavan, has attained final nibbāna. By whom else should
hope for life be generated?”45
This elaboration retrieves a great deal of meaning out of the phrase “on one
occasion the Bhagavan.” The “one occasion” is a marker of a long ago time when
the Buddha was alive and teaching, in contrast to “this occasion”—that is, now—
when he is no longer present with us. The distant occasion in the text signals a
difference from our present, where people intoxicated with life and lacking hope
for the life that the Buddha made possible, may become stirred up and newly
inspired. The “one occasion” exposes the gap between Buddha’s time and ours,
even while it closes it: when one reads those words one can participate in that
original moment where the Buddha was present.
But these considerations begin to drift back to the purposes of the Suttanta,
and here we need to press on with the Vinaya text and its commentarial elabora-
tion. Let us now pick up the story of the Brahmin at Verañjā, whose story begins
the Vinaya.
have little if anything to do with monastic law.48 It is with this beginning that
Buddhaghosa starts his commentary on the text and it appears to be quite impor-
tant to him, as his discussion of this first episode takes nearly a hundred pages (in
the Pali Text Society edition) before he gets to Sudinna and the first rule49 (and
so, together with the external nidāna, we are nearly two hundred pages in before
we meet Sudinna).
Reading with Buddhaghosa suggests that there were several reasons why the
redactors may have begun the Vinaya with this story (a story also found in the
Aṅguttara, A iv.172–80). The Verañjā story operates as a conversion narrative,
where, like the beginning of the Suttanta, the Buddha encounters a hostile inter
locutor, and we get to witness his skill in conversion. The Brahmin at Verañjā
accuses the Buddha of many unseemly things but comes to be reoriented in a dra-
matic way through his encounter with him. Buddhaghosa says that the text starts
with this Brahmin to show the Buddha’s help for householders, and reminds us
several times that the Buddha engages this Brahmin out of compassion.50 This
suggests that the account is a demonstration of the Buddha’s effective peda-
gogy in bringing about transformation, a pedagogy that I discuss later. But the
redactors plugged various other bits of text into the Verañjā narrative, including a
ninefold list of praises to the Buddha, and two nested stories (one of Moggallana
and one of Sāriputta), all of which are also, for Buddhaghosa, essential for under-
standing Vinaya pedagogy and bringing about the desired transformation in his
ideal reader.
He gives the large itipiso commentary elaborating the qualities of the Buddha both
to delight the mind and to train Vinaya experts with a method that belongs to
another genre. The itipiso commentary is also given in full in the Visuddhimagga,
and partially quoted in many of his commentaries on the Suttanta.53 I note this
as an example of a very deliberate pastiche using and reusing the same and similar
passages across Buddhaghosa’s commentaries; his comment is an editorial one
describing his purposes.54 Here one function is to have Vinaya experts train also
in this style of exegesis regarding the Buddha’s qualities that he here associates
with Suttanta analysis.
The passage is also said to “delight the mind,” and here I think Charles
Hallisey’s discussion of the itipiso formula is helpful. He notes the “general fas-
cination” the Theravada tradition has with these nine epithets and the signifi-
cant impact of Buddhaghosa’s treatment of them on subsequent medieval Sinhala
literature.55 He demonstrates that in the medieval Sinhala reception of the Pali
commentaries on the itipiso formula, the nine epithets implicate the reader in a
relationship of devotional involvement and worship of the Buddha. They do not
simply record the greatness of the Buddha in a discursive manner, but generate
the reader’s immediate experience of it. The idea of qualities (guṇa) indicates
features of the Buddha that are known by the impact they have on those who
behold him. This seems to be the case for the Pali tradition as well. Buddhaghosa
says so himself in describing the buddhānussati contemplation, a kind of jhāna
practice, in the Visuddhimagga:
53. As for example, Sv i.146; Ps i.52; Mp i.112 and ii.287, and in each of these cases he refers the
reader to the Visuddhimagga for the full passage (Vism 198–213 [VII.2–65]).
54. On textual reuse, see Cantwell and Freschi, “Introduction: Reuse and Intertextuality in
the Context of Buddhist Texts,” and Kieffer-Pülz, “Reuse of Text in Pāli Legal Commentaries.”
55. Hallisey, Devotion in the Medieval Literature of Sri Lanka, 121–22.
56. Vism 213 (VI.69): Imañca pana buddhānussatiṃ anuyutto bhikkhu satthari sagāravo hoti
sappatisso, saddhāvepullaṃ sativepullaṃ paññāvepullaṃ puññavepullañca adhigacchati,
pītipāmojjabahulo hoti, bhayabheravasaho dukkhādhivāsanasamattho, satthārā saṃvāsasaññaṃ
paṭilabhati. Buddhaguṇānussatiyā ajjhāvutthañcassa sarīrampi cetiyagharamiva pūjārahaṃ
“Completely Pleasing” Exegesis on the Vinaya 205
The analytic and contemplative practice of working through all nine qualities
makes the Teacher present to the monk in an immediate and transformative
way: affective states change; awareness is inclined to a buddhaland; even one’s
body is transformed. There is the suggestion of visualization practice—the “per-
ception of living with the Teacher”—that makes one profoundly aware of being
in the presence of the Buddha in a way that can serve as “propadeutic” for the
religious life.57 Inserted here in the nidāna of the Vinaya commentary, the exten-
sive itipiso contemplation serves as preparation for receiving the monastic rules
by restructuring the reader’s experience with the Buddha. The ideal reader is pre-
pared by this contemplation to feel himself to be in the presence of the Buddha
and to receive his teaching of the rules with deference, faith, and delight.
While none of the nine qualities is said to be more important or is emphasized
more than the others, for our purposes, the epithet “Knower of Worlds,” may
be most salient, and in Buddhaghosa’s commentary on this, he touches on
themes now familiar to us about the Buddha’s omniscience. We have space only
to mention some of the highlights here: the Buddha is the “Knower of Worlds
because he knows the world in every way” and “with the endless knowledge of
buddhas he knew, experienced, and comprehended the endless world spheres and
the endless elements of worlds.”58 Moreover, there are three worlds (according
to one of the schemas that he gives): the world of constructions (saṅkhāraloka),
the world of beings (sattaloka), and the world of space (okāsaloka). The “world
of constructions” refers to the infinite ways human experience is fashioned and
the “food,” or intentionality, that feeds constructed awareness; the “world of
space” refers to the cosmology of continents and world-spheres, including the
heavens and hells, that are here said to be endless (ananta) but yet known by the
Buddha.59 And he knows the “world of beings”:
Because for all beings he knows their inclinations, he knows their latent
tendencies, he knows their doings, he knows their intentions, he knows
beings who have little dust in their eyes and much dust in their eyes, who
have keen faculties and dull faculties, with good attributes and with bad
60. Sp i.117: Yasmā panesa sabbesampi sattānaṃ āsayaṃ jānāti, anusayaṃ jānāti, caritaṃ jānāti,
adhimuttiṃ jānāti, apparajakkhe mahārajakkhe tikkhindriye mudindriye svākāre dvākāre
suviññāpaye duviññāpaye bhabbe abhabbe satte jānāti, tasmāssa sattalokopi sabbathā vidito.
61. Sp i.111; Sp i.109.
62. “Is not perfect” (na sampannam), “lacks good taste” (arasarūpo), “lacks enjoyment”
(nibbhogo), “teaches nonaction” (kiriyavādo), “teaches annihilation” (ucchedavādo), “is
disgusted” (jegucchī), “is restrained” (venayiko), “practices austerities” (tapassī), and “not going
to another womb” (apagabbho bhavam) (Vin iii.1–3).
“Completely Pleasing” Exegesis on the Vinaya 207
Brahmin, that I could rightly be said to be so,”63 and goes on to suggest that there
is a way to interpret these words to see that they in fact describe good quali-
ties of his achievement. For example, that he “lacks taste” can mean that he has
conquered the taste for sensual pleasures (“taste” has much the same range in
English: the Brahmin means that he lacks good taste or refinement, but the
Buddha shifts this to mean that he has lost the savor for sensual pleasure). That he
“is disgusted” means not that he is disaffected by the world, but that he is put off
by wrong conduct and evil and bad phenomena. In each case after pointing out
that these words can have these other meanings whereby they cease being insults,
he adds, “but this is not, of course, what you meant to say.”64
The Buddha goes on to describe his experiences of awakening including his
knowledges achieved in the three watches of the night, where he, like a chick
breaking out of its egg shell, broke out of the shell of ignorance. This lesson in
buddhology takes the form, in contrast to the contemplative exegesis of the
itipiso epithets, of narrative biography, relatively brief, but still recounting the
key moments of his awakening, instructing both reader and Brahmin about who
exactly it is that we are dealing with. The Brahmin responds at once to these
teachings and is converted, citing the Buddha’s skill in methods: “just so, the
Dhamma has been made visible by Gotama by various ways (pariyāya).”65 The
Buddha’s words have “righted what was upside down, revealed what was hidden,
shown the path to the lost, and brought light into darkness so those with eyes
might see forms.”66
Given the salience of pariyāya teachings (those that work modally “from
one side”) in our discussions elsewhere (where we have explored their contrast
with nippariyāya teachings that work “from every side”), it is noteworthy that
a dominant theme in this opening is the Buddha’s capacity to use many sides
of words. Invective turns to commendation when the Brahmin is schooled on
the other sides of his own terms. According to Buddhaghosa, as he turned the
Brahmin’s insults to praises, “the Tathāgata looked straight into the Brahmin’s
eyes with a cooling compassion,” and “dispelling the darkness in the Brahmin’s
63. Vin iii.1–3: Atthi khvesa, brāhmaṇa, pariyāyo yena maṃ pariyāyena sammā vadamāno
vadeyya—‘arasarūpo samaṇo gotamo’ti. Literally, “there is truly a way, by which way it could
be said of me.”
64. Vin iii.1–3: no ca kho yaṃ tvaṃ sandhāya vadesī.
65. Vin iii.6: evamevaṃ bhotā gotamena anekapariyāyena dhammo pakāsito.
66. Vin iii.6: nikkujjitaṃ vā ukkujjeyya, paṭicchannaṃ vā vivareyya, mūḷhassa vā maggaṃ
ācikkheyya, andhakāre vā telapajjotaṃ dhāreyya—cakkhumanto rūpāni dakkhantīti. This is a
frequently seen formula of conversion.
208 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
heart he taught just these topics of abuse but with this and that alternative
way (pariyāya).”67 He emphasizes the technique the Buddha deploys here: “the
Bhagavan took up the direct hostility for the purpose of causing a softening of
[the Brahmin’s] heart, and he taught a different sense of the word when he said,
‘there truly is a way, Brahmin.’ ”68 Meeting the Brahmin where he is, the Buddha
can gently turn him around and bring him to understanding. Our unawakened
grasp of things is often partial and our use of language restricted to a single
sense; this one-sidedness constricts vision and cultivates ignorance, in this case,
the Brahmin’s initial incapacity to discern who the Buddha is. It can be replaced
with the wider and multimodal (and omniscient) perspective that the Buddha
introduces. Indeed, for Buddhaghosa, the Buddha’s omniscience is the framing of
the teaching: when charged with not treating the Brahmin with adequate respect,
the Buddha, “looking with his eye of the knowledge of omniscience,” did not see
anyone worthy of his worship.69
Read in a manner attentive to pariyāya teaching, this narration of the
Brahmin at Verañjā can be seen as a very fitting introduction to the Buddha’s
Vinaya-style pedagogy. As with the opening of the Suttanta Piṭaka, we start this
genre with dispraise of the Buddha that turns to praise through a gradual lesson
in the agility of his teaching. Here what is admired is not that the Buddha knows
what fuels the holding of all views as it was in the Brahmajāla, but that he knows
the different sides of words and the modal aspects of language. The Buddha can
see various sides of words and can speak to one side of a context while expanding
it to include others. This is effective pedagogy, but we may also consider it skillful
for the formation of legal monastic rules. Rules must be generated out of one
particular context and speak to it, but at the same time, to be binding for the
universal Saṅgha, must speak beyond that context to all situations in the future.
The story of the converted Brahmin ends there for a while as we get two nested
stories (neither one present in the Verañjā story when told in the Aṅguttara), one
on Moggallāna and a second on Sāriputta. When the canonical Vinaya comes
back to the Brahmin we find that he, despite promising to host the Buddha and
his monks during the rains retreat, had forgotten his invitation for the three
months and only when the Buddha takes leave of him does he remember. This
is rather embarrassing for him, and he prepares a final alms-giving for them right
before they depart. The Buddha, though he and his monks had been severely
challenged by hunger and famine in that time (as we see in what follows), accepts
this invitation “out of compassion,” according to Buddhaghosa’s reading, and be-
cause he did not want the Brahmin to think the Buddha was angry (kupito) at
him or to report that he was “not omniscient” (asabbaññū).”70
70. Sp i.199.
71. Vin iii.6: Sādhu sādhu, ānanda! Tumhehi, ānanda sappurisehi vijitaṃ. Pacchimā janatā
sālimaṃsodanaṃ atimaññissatī’’ti.
72. Sp i.181.
210 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
73. Sp i.183.
74. Vin iii.7: kilāsuno ahesuṃ sāvakānaṃ vitthārena dhammaṃ desetuṃ.
75. Vin iii.8: Appakañca nesaṃ ahosi suttaṃ geyyaṃ veyyākaraṇaṃ gāthā udānaṃ itivuttakaṃ
jātakaṃ abbhutadhammaṃ vedallaṃ. Apaññattaṃ sāvakānaṃ sikkhāpadaṃ. Anuddiṭṭhaṃ
pātimokkhaṃ.
76. Vin iii.8: “These Bhagavans did not tire of exhorting the monks, encircling mind with
mind” (akilāsuno ca te bhagavanto ahesuṃ sāvake cetasā ceto paricca ovadituṃ).
“Completely Pleasing” Exegesis on the Vinaya 211
the three buddhas who tirelessly (akilāsu) taught in detail all the scriptures, the
stories of the rules, and the Pātimokkha, had long-flourishing dispensations. It
does not take Sāriputta long to rise from his seat, arrange his robe on his shoulder,
and respectfully ask that the rules be given: “Bhagavan, it is the time for this, it
is the time for this, Well-gone Sir! May the Bhagavan lay down the rules for the
monks and declare the Pātimokkha, so that the enduring monastic life will last
long.”77
The Buddha refuses Sāriputta’s request for the rules, instructing him to wait
and that only the Tathāgata knows the time for giving the rules: “Sāriputta, it is not
until certain things occur which are conditions for the oozings (āsava) that that
the Teacher lays down the rules and declares the Pātimokkha to the disciples.”78
Certain conditions develop when the community has been around long enough,
reaches a certain level of development, acquires wealth, and attains a certain level
of learning (Vin iii.10). The “oozings”—the flowing out of defilements that con-
stitute monastic violations—are conditioned by the changing circumstances of
the community itself. Only the Buddha can spot when they occur, and they have
not yet done so.
Let us look at Buddhaghosa’s reading of this. Buddhaghosa thinks additional
details and qualifications are required to understand it. First of all, there is the
question of why Sāriputta was not able to determine the answers for himself. He
was able to know that the previous buddhas’ dispensations were long or short,
but not why. But Buddhaghosa gives another possibility, one offered by a cer-
tain Mahāpaduma Thera who argued that he did know the reason, as this is well
within the range of his sixteen arhat knowledges, but that he asked the Buddha
in order to not have it seem that he was putting his knowledge on par with that
of the Buddha.79
Further, it should not be understood that the three buddhas were lazy.
“Though it says there that ‘they were tired,’ they were not tired because of being
indolent, for there is no indolence or weak vitality for buddhas.”80 Furthermore,
the reason those buddhas taught the scriptures only in brief is because beings
77. Vin iii.9: etassa, bhagavā, kālo! Etassa, sugata, kālo! Yaṃ bhagavā sāvakānaṃ sikkhāpadaṃ
paññapeyya uddiseyya pātimokkhaṃ, yathayidaṃ brahmacariyaṃ addhaniyaṃ assa ciraṭṭhitika.
78. Vin iii.9: Na tāva, sāriputta, satthā sāvakānaṃ sikkhāpadaṃ paññapeti uddisati pātimokkhaṃ
yāva na idhekacce āsavaṭṭhānīyā dhammā saṅghe pātubhavanti.
79. Sp i.184. Mahāpaduma Thera was an elder from Lanka said to be expert on the Vinaya whose
opinions Buddhaghosa often quotes (Malalasekera, Dictionary of Pāli Proper Names, 528).
80. Sp i.185: Tattha kilāsuno ahesunti na ālasiyakilāsuno, na hi buddhānaṃ ālasiyaṃ vā
osannavīriyatā vā atthi.
212 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
at that time had few defilements and so needed only brief teachings. And the
buddhas did not lay down the rules of the Vinaya because no one ever violated
them. And they did not have the twice-monthly recitation of the Pātimokkha
until six years into their careers, and then it was a recitation made by the buddhas
called the “Pātimokkha of Exhortation” (ovādapātimokkha), not the “Pātimokkha
of the Rules” (āṇāpātimokkha), which is to be recited by monks fortnightly.81 This
Exhortation is a brief general encouragement to pursue forbearance, abstain from
evil, and purify one’s mind, as found elsewhere in the canon.82 Like all buddhas,
“our Buddha” taught this exhortation at first, but after twenty years he taught
the Pātimokkha of the Rules, whereupon the monks recited it (buddhas them-
selves do not participate in reciting the rules at the Uposatha).83 Furthermore,
Vipassī, Sikhī, and Vessabhū could “mindmeld” with their disciples and exhort
them directly, so they did not need to give them detailed scripture. And these
buddhas lived very long lives and so did their disciples, so that even though their
dispensations did not last long after them, they lasted during the course of their
lives. In the case of the other three buddhas, who were also extremely long-lived,
their dispensations outlived them a very long time because of their detailed
teachings. Our Buddha, like his disciples, is very short-lived, but his dispensation
outlives him for a long time.84
As to why the Buddha refused Sāriputta’s request for the rules, Buddhaghosa
points out that the disciples had come from good families and had given up much
wealth and social standing to follow the Buddha. And at this point the least of his
five hundred accompanying monks at Verañjā were Stream-Enterers. Surely these
fine men would have been offended if the Buddha had presumed they needed
rules of restraint before any evidence of wrongdoing appeared. It would be like
a bad doctor popping a boil before it had reached the surface of the skin, and
thereby only making the patient worse.85
81. Sp i.185.
82. Sp i.186, quoting D ii.49–50, where Buddha Vipassī says these words.
83. Sp i.187.
84. Sp i.191.
85. Sp i.192–93.
“Completely Pleasing” Exegesis on the Vinaya 213
the Rules are steadfast and endure according to how they were originally
fixed.86
Only when the disciples are disposed to see for themselves the need for the
rules by a violation will they welcome talk of the rules and their penalties.
Indeed, the story sets up not just a welcome reception of the rules, but a
sense of gratitude for getting them at all; previous dispensations were not so
fortunate.
The story also demonstrates that the rules did not spring fully formed from
the Buddha’s mind and get handed down from on high. Rather they emerged
out of conditions with the Buddha’s particular community in the course of
interacting dialogically with the actual people he knew. The rules are a response
to the people, occasions, and conditions that the Buddha encountered, and it is
in terms of these that they are to be known.
At this point the Vinaya narrative returns to the story of the Brahmin and the
Buddha and his monks’ departure from Verañjā and their setting out for Vesalī
where they will eventually meet with Sudinna, whose unfortunate predicament
and monastic failing I have already mentioned, and who occasions the laying
down of the first rule. Having been introduced to the Vinaya from this gateway,
we can leave the text and commentary here. But before we do so, we can look at
how Buddhaghosa wraps up what he has been doing. At the conclusion of the
section on Verañjā, Buddhaghosa gives several verses that capture beautifully and
succinctly what he has been trying to do in introducing the Vinaya, and that sum
up what we have learned from this nidāna.
The nirutti that explains the name “Completely Pleasing” emphasizes the serenity,
composure, and delight suggested by the affective experience of pasāda, and we
have seen that this faithful pleasure and delight have been cultivated by various
contemplative practices in the text that orient the reader to the Buddha and the
Dhamma. The verses also recapitulate the importance of the commentarial serv-
ices of attending to previous authorities and to the nidāna, narrative, phrasing,
meaning, method, and analysis. The Samantapāsādikā is also noted for how it
speaks to its own samaya—its time, occasion, or opportunity—purifying it, and
ignoring those of others. This delightful detail adds a further emphasis on the
highly potent idea of an occasion grounding a teaching. The Samantapāsādikā is
itself prompted by and speaks to its world.
Conclusions
The Vinaya has long been understood as future-oriented. On his deathbed, the
Buddha is said to have told Ānanda that “when I am dead and gone, the Vinaya
and Dhamma that I have taught will be your teacher.”88 At the First Council, the
monks realize that the future rests on having the Vinaya known: “Mahākassapa,
sir, the Vinaya is the long life of the Buddha’s Dispensation: when the Vinaya is
enduring, the Dispensation is enduring.”89 And the cautionary tale of previous
buddhas’ failure to teach the rules and their resulting short-lived dispensations
creates much urgency about the teaching of the Vinaya in our time, and a grateful
reception for it when it is finally taught.
Buddhaghosa affirms that the study and teaching of the Vinaya and its com-
mentary will make the Dispensation possible in the future: “even having heard
90. Sp iv.876: Appeva nāma mama vaṇṇanaṃ sutvāpi bhikkhū upālissa santike vinayaṃ
uggahetabbaṃ pariyāpuṇitabbaṃ maññeyyuṃ, evamidaṃ sāsanaṃ addhaniyaṃ bhavissati,
pañcavassasahassāni pavattissatīti.
91. D ii.154.
92. See An, trans., The Buddha’s Last Days: Buddhaghosa’s Commentary on the Mahāparinibbāna
Sutta, 180–81.
93. Vin ii.288–89.
216 In t erpr et ing t h e T hr ee PiṬak as
take the Buddha’s flexibility about rules getting abrogated to suggest an idea that
the Vinaya itself is still unfolding and being shaped by the community it governs.
The curious choice of the episode of the Brahmin at Verañjā to provide
the opening of the Vinaya as it was redacted makes sense when read with
Buddhaghosa. (Ostensibly, the reason given is that it contains the story of
Sāriputta asking for the rules, but the Sāriputta episode was only here injected
into the Verañjā story and is not part of the version we have of it elsewhere).
For Buddhaghosa, one always has to go through the Buddha to get the teaching.
We have seen this in the case of the other piṭakas. The Suttanta opens with the
extraordinary person of the Buddha fully present and visible: in the Brahmajāla
Sutta we find the Buddha’s omniscient ken triumphing over not only the pathetic
rival Suppiya but over all possible dogmatic positions. With Buddhaghosa’s
commentarial additions we encounter the Buddha in terms of both the pro-
saic activities of his day and the extravagantly cosmic dimensions of his being.
In the Abhidhamma, or rather in the nidāna Buddhaghosa constructs for it, we
are treated to the long Jātakaṭṭhakathā biography of the Buddha’s previous lives
culminating in the night of awakening, as the proper entry to the oceanic under-
standing he achieved and taught in this piṭaka. And here, we enter the Vinaya by
way of the Buddha’s compassion for a householder who needs to be reoriented
from his limited vision to a transformative understanding of the Buddha’s proper
epithets and narrative. Notably, the Buddha effects this reorientation in part by
moving the Brahmin away from the one-sided understanding of his words to give
him a glimpse of the Buddha’s understanding of ideas and words from all sides.
The pedagogical skill of contrasting pariyāya knowledge and nippariyāya know-
ledge is both demonstrated and remarked here. In every case, the nidānas of each
of the three piṭakas require the reader to encounter the Buddha and his extraor-
dinary omniscient mind as it unfolds.
In Buddhaghosa’s Vinaya nidāna (as elsewhere) we find features that Charles
Hallisey has described as “devotional”: “a relentless insistence on bringing formal
self-involvement to the fore, the downgrading of the fact-stating (constative)
dimensions of language in comparison with the active, performative dimensions,
and finally, allowing factual language to be continually undermined by figurative
language.”94 Most obviously, the commentary on the nine epithets or qualities
of the Buddha is a contemplative practice that makes possible the ideal reader’s
personal involvement with the Buddha. The itipiso contemplation is not a
description of the Buddha so much as an exercise that makes him immediately
present through visualization and meditative practice. And in fact the whole tale
of Verañjā and its substories is performative and enactive. The Buddha performs
a teaching style that demonstrates his expansive and expanding ken—he knows
what the Brahmin should mean to say and will learn to say even if he cannot say
it yet—and he brings about the Brahmin’s understanding so that he can see this.
The Buddha casually performs his knowledge of the future in his conversation
with Moggallāna and of the past with Sāriputta, knowledge which bears on the
present occasion by resituating it in a much larger cosmic drama than we might
have suspected from being on the ground under the Pucimanda tree at Verañjā.
If we can speak of its literary qualities, we may note the way the Verañjā
story (in both canon and commentary) grounds us in the singular occasion with
narrative particulars, only to pull back to allow an astonishingly cosmic perspec-
tive and timescape. We are told explicitly by Buddhaghosa of the importance of
the occasion as the prompting of a teaching: the people that the Buddha meets
and his dialogical experiences with them condition the teachings and the active
unfolding of the Buddha’s omniscience. The rules are not handed down ex ca-
thedra but in response to the Buddha’s understanding of events within his par-
ticular community, so these on-the-ground events matter. But we are swiftly
reoriented—or perhaps, disoriented—with tales of Moggallāna turning the
world upside down and Sāriputta knowing details of previous buddhas many eons
ago. Both are essential—the immediacy of the concrete occasion that grounds
the teaching locates us in that moment. But that moment is in turn informed by
the cosmic and temporally dazzling perspectives that a day in the life with the
Buddha allows us to glimpse. The literary moves that make this possible in the
telling of the narrative create, ideally, a reader who pivots from the immediacy of
the particular instance to the mind-blowing possibilities of the infinite.
Conclusion
narrative context given in the canonical texts through a number of his categories—
nidāna and samaya have been two of the most salient here. Episodes in the
Buddha’s life that reveal his teachings (in the Suttanta) and the monastic rules
(in the Vinaya) always have narrative contexts in which they are embedded and
through which Buddhaghosa urges they be read. This is related to the teachings
on omniscience: since the Buddha is not just “Awakened,” but is “Awakening,”
his interactions with his community in his forty-five-year-long teaching career
are the active and demonstrative unfolding and expanding of his omniscient
knowledge without obstacle. Buddhaghosa would have his reader be present in
those moments when the Buddha was teaching to see how he was spontaneously
enacting his knowledge of the particular dispositions, inclinations, and needs
of his community; the event becomes the message. Buddhaghosa elaborates
the literary qualities of the Sutta and Vinaya stories to make these narrative
episodes vivid and arresting with regard to their specific details. But as impor-
tant as the narratives of the Buddha’s teaching career are, they are also nearly
always accompanied by a recontextualization to a much grander context where
the Buddha is revealed as a cosmic entity with rays of light streaming from him
into the far corners of the triple-cosmos, or as the latest buddha in a cosmic
timescape of other buddhas, or a mastermind who knows the future. The cosmic
context resituates the immediate context, of course, which is to be expected
when dealing with an omniscient being. The context and reach of his words and
teachings are always greater than what might be immediately accessible to the dis-
ciple or reader; so the reader must pay attention to not only the specific context
of what is being learnt from him but also the cosmic context of what is yet to be
learned. These contexts demonstrate the enactment of the Buddha’s omniscience
that the interpreter is meant to follow: the Buddha knows the particular and im-
mediate circumstances of his present, even while being aware of a much grander
schema in which they must also be seen.
These are not the contexts salient to modern historicist interpretations of
texts, which often focus on reconstructing a world outside the text (in terms of
social, intellectual, political, and economic history). The historicist paradigm is,
of course, hardly universal, and Buddhaghosa’s choices about how to read scrip-
ture differ so markedly from it that they can cast it and its assumptions into
sharp relief. While just as intensely focused on the past and recreating the distant
contexts of the Buddha’s life and the transmission of the teachings as modern
historians are when reading Buddhist texts, what counts as relevant about past
context is quite different for Buddhaghosa. He does not share modern concerns
for dates, chronology, obsessions with authorship, and the sociological and
intellectual context of ancient Buddhism. Instead, he is fascinated with how the
Buddha engaged pedagogically with the particular people of his day and how this
220 Conc lusion
introduces the reader to the Buddha and his knowledge. The ideal reader is to feel
addressed by this reconstructed past in an immediate, existential, and transform-
ative way. Texts not only convey knowledge but also, more vividly for him, they
transform persons. So the function of context in reading is quite different even
while his notion of context contains within it a certain reading of “history.”
It is not just the episodes of the Buddha’s teachings that have contexts, but
each text, and each piṭaka as a whole, has a context, a nidāna, through which
it is to be entered. The crucial moment of redaction and transmission of these
contexts represented by the idea of the First Council is central to Buddhaghosa’s
thinking about scripture. In many ways, the commentarial enterprise is a con-
tinuation of this transmission and unfolding of the Buddha’s words. We see this
in the creative expansion that commentaries provide on the practice of nidānas
initiated at the First Council, where the introduction and narrative context of
whole texts becomes an indispensable commentarial service.
Buddhaghosa’s nidānas on the three piṭakas have furnished the central textual
focus of this book and they lead to consideration of the third theoretical interven-
tion I wish to highlight here—Buddhaghosa’s deliberations on genre. Philology
and hermeneutics both attend to genre, because genre sets expectations and the
horizon of possibility for interpretation. By attending to indigenous theories of
genre we can better discern the horizon of possibility set up by the texts them-
selves. This can destabilize genre expectations that are sometimes presumed to be
universal, such as putative distinctions between the literary and the philosoph-
ical, and between reading practice and contemplative practice, to take two sa-
lient examples disrupted in this work. We can dispense with such distinctions
altogether and see what emerges in the texts themselves. I also think that herme-
neutical questions of genre and indigenous theories of texts have implications
for doing Indian philosophy. Investigating the purposes and practices of a tex-
tual tradition should be carried out, if not prior to philosophical investigation, at
least in conversation with it; perhaps in many instances they are not two separate
enterprises at all.
Genre is important not only as a classificatory schema or structure for
organizing scripture (one that is in fact required for helping us see the modu-
larity of smaller textual units that transgress such classifications in the produc-
tion of new meanings), but also as itself a “generative” device, an idea captured in
Buddhaghosa’s idea that the piṭakas are methods and areas of study. His treatment
of each piṭaka’s style of pedagogy yields disciplinary reading practices that in
some instances differ substantially from modern ways of approaching them. In
the case of the Suttanta, reading with Buddhaghosa has shown the interpretative
productivity of the context in which the doctrinal teachings were administered
and remembered. The narrative contexts of the teachings—the stories of the
Conclusion 221
This extended passage on the nature of the Buddha’s words and the Dhamma occurs
in the Visuddhimagga (Vism 213–18; VII.68–88). Part of it can also be found in
Buddhaghosa’s commentary on the Vinaya (Samantapāsādikā i.126–28), and sections
of it are also in the Nettippakaraṇa and in several commentaries on Khuddaka Nikāya
texts traditionally ascribed to Dhammapāla (such as ItiA ii.85–86). I translate in what
follows the Visuddhimagga’s version, where it is presented as a kind of meditation prac-
tice, one of the six main “recollection contemplations” treated in chapter VII that calm
and focus attention (the others are Recollections of the Buddha, the Sangha, moral
precepts (sīla), giving (cāga), and the deities (devatā). In the Vinaya commentary
portions of this discussion occur in the context of the opening story of the canonical
Vinaya about the Brahmin Verañja (see Appendix B).
The passage is a commentary on what it means that the Bhagavan’s words are said
to be “well-spoken,” as asserted in the canonical verse: “The Dhamma is well-spoken
by the Bhagavan, visible here and now, timeless, inviting one to come and see, leading
forward, and to be experienced by the wise for themselves” (M i.37; A iii.285). Parsing
this sentence leads Buddhaghosa to discuss at length another canonical statement that
then also requires parsing, which asserts that the Buddha “teaches a teaching beautiful
in the beginning, beautiful in the middle, and beautiful in the end with meaning and
phrasing, and makes known the entirely perfect and pure religious life.” This formula
is given many times in the suttas and the Vinaya (as, for example, M i.179; D i.62; and
Vin iii.1, on which our passage in the Samantapāsādikā is commenting), and so the
attention it gets in the commentary has wide application for understanding the quali-
ties of the Buddha’s words.
I have put in italics the words and phrases from the canonical material that are
receiving commentary. I give the Pali term for words that have particular salience in my
224 Appendix A
discussions throughout the book. I have aimed for readability in these appendices to
give the reader a sense of the range and flow of Buddhaghosa’s commentaries.
D i s c uss i o n o n t h e R ec o l l ec t i o n o f t h e D h a m m a
One wishing also to cultivate in solitude and seclusion the Recollection of the Dhamma
should recall the qualities (guṇa) of the ninefold transcendent Dhamma and the
Dhamma of study (pariyattidhamma) in this way: “The Dhamma is well-spoken by the
Bhagavan, visible here and now, timeless, inviting one to come and see, leading forward,
and to be experienced by the wise for themselves.”
“Well-spoken”—in the case of this word the collection that is the Dhamma of study
should be understood also [as well as the transcendent Dhamma], but in the case of
the other [words] just the transcendent Dhamma [is meant]. Now, the Dhamma of
study is indeed well-spoken because it is beautiful in the beginning, middle, and end with
meaning and phrasing, and because it makes known the entirely perfect and pure religious
life (brahmacariya). For when the Bhagavan teaches even a single verse it is beautiful
in the beginning with its first line of the Dhamma because of being entirely good, it is
beautiful in the middle with its second and third lines, and it is beautiful in the end with
its conclusion. A sutta with a single sequence of meaning is beautiful in the beginning
because of its introduction (nidāna), beautiful in the end because of its conclusion, and
beautiful in the middle because of the rest. A sutta with several sequences is beautiful
in the beginning with its first sequence, beautiful in the end with the last, and beautiful
in the middle with the rest. And further, it is beautiful in the beginning because it has
an introduction and an origin, it is beautiful in the middle because it is furnished with
reasons and examples and because it does not contravene the purposes appropriate to
those it teaches [literally, those who are tractable]. And it is beautiful in the end because
of its conclusion by causing the receiving of faith for the listeners.
The Dhamma of the entire Dispensation is beautiful in the beginning because of
the morality that has become one’s own well-being, beautiful in the middle because
of calming and insight meditation as path and fruit, and beautiful in the end because
of nibbāna. Alternatively, it is beautiful in the beginning because of morality and con-
centration, beautiful in the middle because of the path to insight, and beautiful at the
end because nibbāna is its fruit. Alternatively, it is beautiful in the beginning because of
the thorough Awakening of the Buddha, beautiful in the middle because the Dhamma
is a thorough teaching, and beautiful in the end because of the thorough attainment of
the Community. Alternatively, having heard it, it is beautiful in the beginning because
of the highest Awakening that is to be discovered by practicing for this purpose, it is
beautiful in the middle because of the awakening of paccekabuddhas, and it is beautiful
in the end because of the awakening of disciples.
It is beautiful in the beginning since one hearing it brings about only what is beau-
tiful just by listening, due to its eliminating the hindrances; it is beautiful in the middle
since one practicing it brings about what is beautiful just by practicing it, due to its
Appendix A 225
bringing about the happiness of calm and insight meditation; and likewise it is beautiful
in the end since one obtaining it brings about what is beautiful just by the fruit of prac-
tice, due to its bringing about the state similar [to that of the buddhas] when completed.
In this way well-spoken is due to being beautiful in the beginning, middle, and end.
Now, when teaching the Dhamma, the Bhagavan makes known—that is, he
illuminates with various methods—the religious life of the Dispensation and the reli-
gious life of the path, with meaning (attha) appropriate to that because of its excellence
of meaning, and with phrasing (byañjana) because of its excellence of phrasing. With
meaning is from putting together word and sense via showing, making known, opening
up, distinguishing, making clear, and denoting, and with phrasing is by excellence in
syllables, words, phrasing, mode, language (nirutti), and description. With meaning is
because of depth in meaning and depth in penetration, and with phrasing is because
of depth in Dhamma and depth in teaching [it]. With meaning is because its scope is
the analysis (paṭisambhidā) of knowledge (paṭibhāna) and of things (attha), and with
phrasing is because its scope is the analysis of language (nirutti) and of the Teaching
(Dhamma). With meaning means that it generates joyful faith in inquisitive people be-
cause it can be experienced by the learned, and with phrasing means that it generates
joyful faith in ordinary people because it is worthy of confidence. It is entirely perfect
because of being fully complete from lacking anything to be added, and pure because of
being without fault from lacking anything to be subtracted.
Further, it is with meaning due to its particular distinction in understanding by prac-
tice, it is with phrasing due to its particular distinction in scripture by study, entirely per-
fect because of the five compilations of the Dhamma beginning with morality, and pure
due to lacking defilements, occurring for the sake of crossing beyond, and disregarding
worldly benefits. In this way well-spoken is due to making known the entirely perfect and
pure religious life with meaning and phrasing.
Alternatively, well-spoken means spoken well from lacking any corruption in
meaning. For the meaning of the teachings of other sects produces corruption since
their teachings speak of obstacles regarding things that are not actually obstacles, and
their teachings speak of salvation about things that are not actually salvific. Because of
this their teachings are badly spoken, but the meaning of the teaching of the Bhagavan
does not produce corruption. For in the case of the teaching spoken in this way, “these
things create obstacles, these things are salvific,” there is no failure in transmitting the
truth. In this way truly the Dhamma of study is well-spoken.
Now, the transcendent Dhamma is well-spoken because of its speaking of a prac-
tice appropriate to nibbāna, and of nibbāna appropriate to the practice [of attaining it].
Since he says, “the practice that is the going to nibbāna is properly declared to the dis-
ciples by the Bhagavan, and so practice and nibbāna come together. Just as the water of
the Ganges and the water of the Yamuna come together and meet, so it is too that the
practice that is the going to nibbāna is properly declared by the Bhagavan to the disci-
ples: practice and nibbāna come together.” And here the Noble Path, because of being
spoken of as the “Middle Path” due to being the middle way that does not approach
226 Appendix A
both extremes, is well-spoken. And because of being spoken of as “that by which the
defilements are allayed,” since the allaying of the defilements is the fruit of renun-
ciation, it is well-spoken. And because of being spoken of in terms of its particular
nature of being eternal, et cetera, since nibbāna alone has the particular nature of being
eternal, deathless, a protection, a refuge, and so on, it is well-spoken. In this way, the tran-
scendent Dhamma is also well-spoken.
It is “visible here and now” means that here the Noble Path is indeed visible here
and now in that it is to be seen for oneself by a noble person not doing lustful things,
et cetera in their own continuing experience. For [the Buddha] says, “Brahmin, one
colored, overcome, and exhausted by lust, intends out of what is injurious only to one-
self, intends out of what is injurious only to others, or intends out of what is injurious
to both. One experiences painful mental experiences and unhappiness. But when lust
is abandoned one does not intend out of what is injurious to oneself, one does not
intend out of what is injurious to others, and one does not intend out of what is in-
jurious to both, and so does not experience painful mental experiences and unhappi-
ness. And so, Brahmin, the Dhamma is visible here and now” (A i.157). Further, the
ninefold transcendent Dhamma is also visible here and now in that it is seen oneself
with the knowledge that comes from reflection, with whatever way it is understood,
and it is established as something to be approached with faith in another in that way.
Alternatively, a proper view is a view that is praised, and so what is visible here and
now is said to conquer with proper view. Likewise, here the Noble Path conquers the
defilements by the proper view associated with it, the Noble Fruit by its being the cause,
and nibbāna by its being the scope. From this it is like a charioteer said to conquer with
a chariot, and in this way the ninefold transcendent Dhamma is visible here and now
because of proper view.
Alternatively, “what is seen” is called seeing, and what is visible is just what is seen
which has the meaning of seeing. Visible here and now is appropriately interpreted as
well seen. For the transcendent Dhamma is seeing which itself leads one away from the
fear of saṃsāra by the comprehension that comes from cultivation and the comprehen-
sion that comes from realization. From this it is like one to be clothed being appropriate
for [getting] a cloth, and in this way visible here and now is appropriately interpreted
as what is seen.
Timeless means that there is no time between it and the bearing of its fruit. Timeless
just means immediate. For it is said that it bears fruit immediately at its own occurrence,
that is, it gives fruit without a break of any time such as five days or seven days, and so on.
On the other hand, [some things] take time, which means that there is time separating
[a thing’s] occurrence and the bearing of its own fruit. As in what? The good dhammas
that are mundane. But this is timeless, so it is immediate because its fruit follows imme-
diately. This is said in reference only to the Path.
It is inviting one to come and see which means that the occurrence of “come and see
this teaching” makes it appropriate for the motto “come and see.” Why is it appropriate
for this motto? Because it is found and because of its purity. For if someone says there is
Appendix A 227
gold or money in an empty fist, he cannot also say “come and see.” Why? Because it will
not be found. And of course, if there is excrement or urine to be found, he also cannot
say “come and see” to gladden [people’s] minds by indicating the presence of something
beautiful. On the contrary, this should even be covered up with grass or leaves. Why?
Because of being impure. But this ninefold transcendent Dhamma is found because of
its particular nature, and it is pure like the circle of the full moon in a cloudless sky and
like a genuine precious stone laid out on an orange cloth. From this, inviting one to come
and see is appropriate for the motto “come and see” because it is found and because it
is pure.
Leading forward means that it should be applied. Here is the exegesis: leading
forward is appropriately interpreted as applying it in one’s own mind by medita-
tion even being indifferent to whether one’s head or clothes are on fire, for applying
means bringing to. Leading forward means that it leads forward. This is appropriate
for the constructed transcendent dhammas. But leading forward is also appropriately
interpreted as applying with one’s own mind to the unconstructed [dhamma]. The
meaning is that it is worthy of being held dear by realizing it.
Alternatively, what brings one to nibbāna is the Noble Path, so it is something to be
applied. What should be applied is what should be realized, so what is to be applied is
the Dhamma of fruit and nibbāna. So leading forward is what is to be applied.
“To be experienced by the wise for themselves” means that it should be experienced
by the wise, beginning with those who come to know something right when it is open
before them, each for oneself: “by me the path is cultivated, the fruit is approached,
cessation is realized.” For the defilements are eliminated for a monastic student by
practicing the path, not by his teacher. Nor does one live well by the attainment of
[one’s teacher’s] fruit, nor does one realize the nibbāna realized by him. From this it is
said that it should be experienced by the wise, for it is to be seen not in the way that an
ornament on someone else’s head is seen, but only by one’s own awareness. This is really
not the scope of fools.
There is a further way that this Dhamma is well-spoken. How? Because of it being
visible here and now. It is visible here and now because of being timeless. It is timeless
because of inviting one to come and see. And it invites one to come and see, so it is called
leading forward.
On this occasion of recollecting the qualities (guṇa) of the Dhamma consisting of
being well-spoken, et cetera, one’s awareness will not be obsessed by lust, nor by hatred,
nor will one’s awareness by obsessed by delusion. “On that occasion one’s awareness is
simply straight with reference to the Dhamma” (A iii.285). But because of the depth
of the qualities of the Dhamma or because of applying oneself to recollections of var-
ious kinds, one’s jhāna meditation reaches access, but not absorption. This is called the
Recollection of the Dhamma because of its being produced by recollecting the qualities
(guṇa) of the Dhamma.
Now a monk who has applied himself to the Recollection of the Dhamma thinks
thus: “I have never seen in the past a teacher endowed with this virtue, who taught such
228 Appendix A
a teaching leading forward, nor do I see another one now besides the Bhagavan,” and
he becomes respectful and reverent to the Teacher just because of seeing the qualities
of the Dhamma. With weighty regard for the Dhamma, he attains an abundance of
faith, et cetera, becomes full of joy and delight, defeats fear and terror, is able to for-
bear suffering, [and] comes to have the perception of living with the Dhamma. Even
his body comes to be inhabited by the recollection of the qualities of the Dhamma,
and so it becomes worthy of worship like a shrine. His awareness bends toward the
attainment of the highest Dhamma, and when he comes into contact with an opportu-
nity for transgression, from recollecting that the Dhamma is the good teaching, shame
and apprehension occur. And even if he penetrates no higher he will still be destined
for a good rebirth.
Therefore, a wise person should certainly practice vigilance in this way always with
the recollection of the Dhamma for the sake of great power.
This is the foremost part of the detailed explanation of the Recollection of the
Dhamma.
Ap p e n d i x B
This selection is Buddhaghosa’s commentary on the opening lines of the Vinaya, right
after the External Introduction (Sp i.105–15). I include it here because it includes
passages I discuss at some length at different junctures in the book and because it is a
good example of the range of practices Buddhaghosa offers in his commentaries, even
while focusing on just a few sentences of the root text (I also provide the first paragraph
of the Vinaya on which it is commenting).
In some cases, the commentarial services are quite basic, such as dividing compounds
and glossing words. Buddhaghosa also gives considerable attention to the grammar of
case endings in this passage, where he notices the curious feature that all three piṭakas
start with an occasion (samaya), and that, more curiously, occasion occurs in different
case endings in the opener of each piṭaka. As he suggests in an interpretation that he
acknowledges differs from that of the “ancients” on whom his commentary relies, this
may be important for interpreting the nature of the Buddha’s pedagogy in each of these
genres (I discuss Buddhaghosa’s reasoning through this possibility in c hapter 5).
On the particular occasion that prompts the Vinaya, Buddhaghosa embellishes the
story by giving us small but grounding details on the Brahmin Verañja, such as that
his actual name given to him by his parents is Udaya. Such details help us picture and
participate in this occasion. Buddhaghosa uses the presence of the Buddha at appar-
ently two locations (both at the roots of a stately Pucimanda tree and at the city of
Verañjā which is nearby) in a lovely technique that pairs and contrasts the dual nature
and purposes, simultaneously worldly and transcendent, of the Buddha’s teachings.
Buddhaghosa takes up the itipiso epithets in the canonical text and runs with them,
setting up a lengthy commentary on these nine terms that runs for many pages. He says
that he introduces this kind of exegesis to develop proficiency in Suttanta discourse
230 Appendix B
for the Vinaya experts that this commentary is training, as well as to delight the mind
with the Buddha’s qualities. Here, as I argue in the book, the reader is to encounter,
in a transformative way, the Buddha’s qualities (guṇa) prerequisite to encountering
his teachings. The “Suttanta-style” exegesis that he develops extensively here on the
nine epithets requires close attention to phrasing (byañjana) through linguistic anal-
ysis (niruttipaṭisambhidā) that develops and expands meaning from the sounds of the
phonemes of the canonical words, a generative exegetical practice I discuss at length
in chapter 2. To avoid taxing the patience of the reader (niruttis transferred to English
can feel forced, having lost their rich phonoaesthetics), we stop after the first of the
nine qualities. (But for a translation of the whole section, readers may refer to the
Visuddhimagga in Ñānamoḷi’s translation [pp. 192–209 translating VII.2–64], where
the commentary on the nine epithets functions as a contemplative practice called the
Recollection of the Buddha, occurring just prior to the Recollection of the Dhamma
provided in Appendix A.) But even focusing on the expansion of meaning from the
sounds in the first epithet “Worthy” (Araha), we come to learn a great deal of the virtues
and triumphs of the Buddha to which the reader is to become oriented.
In the course of his analysis of the Buddha’s quality of being Araha, Buddhaghosa’s
interest in the Suttanta-style nirutti exegesis gives way to yet another register of dis-
course, one we associate with Abhidhamma, in giving an intricate elaboration of the
causal and modal relationships of the phenomena (dhamma) in dependent origination.
Dependent origination may in fact be the most generative of doctrinal matrices and
here it gets launched from the mention of “the wheel of saṃsāra” that pops up in the
midst of analyzing the word “Araha.” Buddhaghosa seizes the moment to give an anal-
ysis of how dependent origination can be mapped onto the hub, spokes, and rim of
the wheel of saṃsāra, and further, that beginning with the condition of ignorance, the
conditions for the other eleven factors of dependent origination can be mapped onto
experience of the life course within saṃsāra. In this way, we get a sampling of several
highly fecund commentarial practices expanding meaning and possibility.
T h e S ec t i o n o n V er a ñ ja
First, the root text—this is the first paragraph of the canonical Vinaya (Vin iii.1):
Because of that occasion (tena samayena, or “on that occasion”) the Buddha, the
Bhagavan was staying at the root of the Naḷeru Pucimanda Tree at Verañjā, together a
great monastic community of five hundred monks. The Brahmin Verañja heard “Sir,
the renouncer Gotama, son of the Sakyas, gone forth from the Sakya clan, is staying at
Verañjā at the root of the Naḷeru Pucimanda Tree together with a great monastic com-
munity of five hundred monks. And a beautiful sound of fame has gone out regarding
Lord Gotama in this way: ‘because he is thus [itipiso] the Bhagavan is Worthy (Araha),
Perfectly Awakened, Accomplished in Knowledge and Conduct, Well-gone, Knower
of Worlds, Highest Coachman of Men to be Tamed, Teacher of Deities and Humans,
Appendix B 231
the Buddha, the Bhagavan.’ Having realized with his own higher knowledge this world
with its deities, māras, brahmas, renouncers, Brahmins, creatures, gods, and humans,
he makes it known. He teaches a teaching beautiful in the beginning, beautiful in the
middle, and beautiful in the end with meaning and with phrasing and makes known
the entirely perfect and pure religious life. It is truly good to see an arahat such as this.”
T h e C o m m en ta ry o n t h e S ec t i o n o n V e r a ñ ja
This is the beginning of Buddhaghosa’s commentary on this first paragraph:
Now I will make a commentary on the meaning of the Vinaya showing with
various ways the meaning of the passage beginning with “because of that” [or
“on that,” tena].
I will make a commentary on the meaning of “because of that occasion the Buddha, the
Bhagavan . . .” according to how it has been described, as follows. The sentence with the
designation “because of that” is uncertain. A reapplication can be done by establishing
the meaning later with a sentence not mentioned here but similar to it. That is, it is
established below that an idea [occurring to] Venerable Sāriputta became the reason
for his asking for the laying down of the Vinaya. Therefore, the connection should be
understood in this way here: since it was because of a certain occasion when the idea was
generated, it is “because of that occasion that the Buddha, the Bhagavan, while staying at
Verañjā . . . .” And this is appropriate throughout the entire Vinaya, so that whenever
there is “because of that,” whether earlier or later, the reapplication should be done there
by the sentence “because of a certain [occasion].”
Now this is pointing out only the beginning [of the Vinaya] for it is said—“ because
of that, monks, I will lay down the rules for monks, that is, because Sudinna indulged
in sexual misconduct; since he indulged, I will lay them down.” And indeed the reappli-
cation established in this way via the meaning earlier with the expression “because of a
certain” is appropriate [in this case too]. “Because on a certain occasion when Dhaniya,
the son of Kumbhakāra, took wood belonging to the king, et cetera, because of that
occasion the Buddha, the Bhagavan, was staying at Rājagaha”—in this case the reappli-
cation with the wording “because of a certain” is established according to the meaning
later as the meaning of the wording “because of that” has been stated.
Now here “because of that occasion” has the word “occasion (samaya)” which
appears in [the sense of ] a meeting together, a moment, a time, a crowd,
a cause [or motive or reason, hetu], a view, an acquisition, an abandoning, a
comprehension.
For instance, [in sentences] such as—“perhaps we may meet together if the time and
occasion arise”—there is the meaning of meeting together. “There is but one moment
232 Appendix B
and one occasion, monks, for living the religious life” is [the sense of ] moment. “It is
an occasion of heat, an occasion of fever” is time. “There was a great occasion on the
mountain” is crowd. “You are not comprehending this occasion, Bhaddāli, that the
Bhagavan is staying at Sāvatthi and the Bhagavan will come to know me thus ‘a monk
called Bhaddāli is not fulfilling the precepts of the Teacher’s Dispensation,’ ”—here it
means cause. “Because of this occasion the recluse Uggahamāno is staying at the Mallika
single-hall monastery near the Tinduka tree for debating occasions,” here it means
view. In [sentences] such as this it is an acquisition: “one steadfast is called learned
from comprehending the meaning, whether meaning in relation to visible phenomena
here and now, or meaning in relation to the future life.” And it is an abandoning in
this instance: “from the complete penetration of conceit he made an end of suffering.”
And it has the meaning of comprehension in this: “the meaning of suffering can be
directly known in that there is suffering in the sense of oppression, in the sense of what
is formed, in the sense of misery, and in the sense of change.”
But here the meaning [of occasion] is time. Since because at a certain time an idea
occurred to Venerable Sāriputta that became the reason for his asking for the laying
down of the Vinaya, so the meaning should be seen here as “because of that time.”
Here someone says: “now why is it that in the Suttanta the expression ‘one occasion’
is made in the accusative case, and in the Abhidhamma ‘on whatever occasion in the
realm of desire’ is in the locative case, but here this is not done and the expression
‘because of that occasion’ is made in the instrumental case?” This is because here the
production of meaning is different. How so? In the Suttanta the meaning arises in a way
continuously connected. For the occasion that the Bhagavan taught suttas such as the
Brahmajāla, he dwelled with the sublime abiding of compassion continuously on that
occasion. Therefore, the accusative case is made there for the sake of illuminating that
meaning. And in the Abhidhamma there is generated the sense of locus and the sense
of what characterizes a state [of being] by another state. “Locus” as occasion can have
the sense of time and the sense of an aggregation, and so here a state is characterized
by a state of an occasion that is constructed by a cause that is the occurring together
in a [single] moment of such described phenomena as contact, et cetera. Therefore,
expecting this or that meaning, occasion is said elsewhere with the accusative and the
locative, but here it is just with the instrumental.
But the ancients explain: “ ‘one occasion,’ ‘on whatever occasion,’ or ‘because of that
occasion’ is a difference only in expression, and the meaning in each instance is simply
locative.” Therefore, by their view, the meaning of “because of that occasion” should be
understood as “on that occasion.”
We will later explain [or praise, vaṇṇayissāma] the meaning of the words “the
Buddha, the Bhagavan.” “He was staying at Verañjā”—now here, Verañjā is the name
of a certain city, that of the Verañjas, and is in the locative in the sense of nearby. He
“was staying”—this is an elucidation of a general [word] for a certain [specific kind of ]
staying among the ways of staying that include the postures, the godly abidings, the
divine abidings, and the noble abidings, but here it is the elucidation of the combination
Appendix B 233
of certain postures among the postures of standing, going, sitting, and lying down; be-
cause of this, he stays should be understood as the standing, going, sitting, and lying
down by the Bhagavan. Cutting off the discomfort of one posture with another posture,
he carries himself and moves about, and so it is said that he “was staying.”
“At the root of the Naḷeru Pucimanda Tree”—here Naḷeru is the name of a yakkha.
Pucimanda is a neem tree, and root means nearby. This word root is seen in here: “digging
out the roots, even the fine rootlets and fibers,” as root in the [literal sense] of root. [In
statements] such as “greed is the root of what is bad” it is a unique type of cause. “At the
time of midday the shade cast, where the leaves fall, to that extent is the root of a tree,”
which means nearby. And here what is intended is nearby, since the meaning here should
be seen as near the Pucimanda Tree frequented by the yakkha Naḷeru. The Pucimanda,
pleasing, delightful, and presiding like a king over other trees, stood there in the midst
of the coming and going near to the city. Then the Bhagavan, going to Verañjā, staying
at that appropriate place, stayed underneath and nearby that tree. Because of this it is
said, “he was staying at Verañjā at the root of the Naḷeru Pucimanda Tree.”
Now what if [someone were to object that] to the extent that the Bhagavan
was staying at Verañjā then “at the root of the Naḷeru Pucimanda Tree” need not be
mentioned, or that he was staying there and so “Verañjā” need not be mentioned, for it
is not possible to stay in both places on the same occasion at the same time? It should
not be seen this way, for we mentioned “the locative case in the sense of nearby.” That
is why when a herd of cattle goes near the Ganges and the Yamuna they say, “they go by
the Ganges, they go by the Yamuna.” So, here, to the extent that he stays at the root of
the Naḷeru Pucimanda near to Verañjā, [the text can say] “he was staying at Verañjā at
the root of the Naḷeru Pucimanda Tree.” The word Verañjā is for explaining the town and
surrounding pastures. The words root of the Naḷeru Pucimanda Tree is for explaining a
place appropriate for and frequented by renouncers.
Now, with the report of Verañjā, Venerable Elder Upāli [the reciter of the Vinaya]
shows the Bhagavan’s helpful action for householders, and by the report of the root of
the Naḷeru Pucimanda [he shows his] helpful action for renouncers; likewise by the
former [he shows how Verañjā] was helpful for avoiding weariness in getting requisites,
and with the latter [staying at the Tree, he shows] the means of avoiding luxurious living
from giving up the desire for things; and by the former his inclination for teaching the
Dhamma, by the latter his inclination to be alone; and by the former his going toward
[others] with compassion, by the latter retreating out of wisdom; by the former his in-
clination to accomplish the welfare and benefit of beings, by the latter his freedom from
defilement in effecting the welfare and benefit of others; by the former the comfortable
life marked by not giving up Dhammic happiness, and by the latter, that marked by
the application of the Dhamma of superior persons; by the former his great help for
humans, and by the latter, for deities; by the former the condition of being nourished
in the world by one born in the world, and by the latter [the condition of being]
unsmeared by the world; by the former [Upāli shows that] there is the accomplishment
of that aim for which the Bhagavan was born [indicated] by the saying “monks, there is
234 Appendix B
one person who arising, comes into being for the welfare of the many, the happiness of
the many, for compassion for the world, for the welfare, benefit, and happiness of gods
and humans. Who is that one person? The Tathāgata, the Worthy One, the Perfectly
Awakened Buddha”; and by the latter [he shows] a dwelling [place] that is appropriate
for him wherever he is born. This technique of exegesis should be understood here
starting in this way by this method: he shows that [the Buddha] was staying in a grove,
for the Bhagavan is always born in a grove because it is an occasion both worldly and
transcendent, first in Lumbinī, second, at the Bodhi tree.
With a great monastic community—here “great” means greatness in qualities (guṇa)
and greatness in number, for the monastic community was great with qualities since
the least among them was a stream-winner. And they were great in number in the sense
that there were five hundred of them. With a monastic community means a commu-
nity of monks, which means with a group of renouncers, a multitude considered to be
renouncers due to their views and moral precepts. With means together. Five hundred
means the quantity of five hundred of them. Quantity indicates how many. Because
of this, when it is said, “one knows the quantity of food,” it is that one knows quantity
in relation to food, which means one knows how much; and in the same way here too
the meaning should be seen as the quantity of five hundred monks is the amount of
five hundred. A hundred monks is a hundred times five monks. Because of this it is
said, “with a great monastic community,” so that the greatness in number of the great
community of monks is shown. But later the greatness of their qualities will become ev-
ident with the saying: “the community of monks, Sāriputta, is stainless, free of danger,
spotless, pure, and established in the essentials. Sāriputta, the least among these five
hundred monks is a stream-winner.”
“The Brahmin Verañja heard” means he heard, took in, and understood in keeping
with the sound of the words that reached the doorways of his ears. “Kho” is a particle
that gives emphasis or is merely a space-filler. Here it is just that he heard with a sense of
emphasis, and the meaning should be understood that there was nothing hindering his
hearing of it. But it could just be a space-filler smoothing out the phrasing (byañjana).
He was Verañja in that he was born in Verañjā, raised in Verañjā, or lived in Verañjā.
But he was called “Udaya” because of the name given to him by his mother and father.
Brahmin means he recites Brahma, in the sense that he repeats mantras. For this is an
expression with a nirutti of the Brahmins as a class. But noble people are also called
“Brahmins” because of having warded off evils.1
Now, that the Brahmin Verañja heard this meaning is made clear when he [Upāli]
started with “the renouncer Gotama.” Here, renouncer should be understood due to his
1. There are several niruttis to which Buddhaghosa is drawing our notice with the sounds
brā, ma, and bā in the word brāhmaṇa: they recite “Brahma” as a mantra, and their miseries
are warded off (bāhita). He manages to achieve meaning through nirutti analysis that treats
Brahmins as both a class and as a moral category.
Appendix B 235
condition of having evils quelled. For this is said (in the Dhammapada): “a Brahmin
is one with evils warded off, a renouncer is called one with evils quelled.” And the
Bhagavan is one with evils quelled by the highest path of noble persons, so he is a “re-
nouncer,” namely, one who acquired his qualities in a real way. “Khalu” is a particle
indicating hearsay. “Sir” [“Bho”] is just a vocative for those in the born into the class of
the Brahmins. And this is said: “one is a Brahmin [literally, one who says ‘bho’] if he has
something.” “Gotama” describes the Bhagavan by reference to his family lineage, and
therefore “Sir, the renouncer Gotama” should be seen here as referring to the “Gotama
lineage.” “Son of the Sakyas” illustrates the high rank of the Bhagavan. “Gone forth from
the Sakya clan” is the illustration of his condition of having gone forth out of faith,
that is, he did not renounce his family because it had fallen to ruin as someone over-
come with a great loss, but rather it is said that he renounced out of faith. The meaning
described [will work] also elsewhere. “That [one]” is in the accusative case in the sense of
referring to what he is called, the meaning of it is Gotama. “Beautiful” means endowed
with the quality of being beautiful, said to be “the best.” “Sound of fame” is just fame,
or the voice of praise.
Now this is the exegesis of that beginning with “because he is thus [itipiso] the
Bhagavan . . .”: because he is the Bhagavan, because he is Worthy (Araha), because he is
Perfectly Awakened, et cetera” said to be so because of this and that reason. Now here
in the beginning of the commentary on the Vinaya I will make a commentary on these
words with an extended method for the sake of delighting the mind with a Dhamma
talk connected with the Buddha’s qualities [and] for the sake of Vinaya experts’ profi-
ciency in the methods of the Suttanta.
Therefore, when it is said that “because the Bhagavan is Worthy”—here the
Bhagavan should be understood as “Araha” because of these reasons: because of his con-
dition of being aloof (ārakattā), because of enemies (arīnam), because of his destroying
the spokes (arānañca hatattā), because of worthiness (arahattā) of requisites, et cetera,
and because of the lack of secret (raha) evil doing. “Being aloof ” (āraka) means being
established far and removed from all defilements (kilesas), [that is] the condition of
having destroyed the defilements together with their traces with the Path, and so [he is]
Araha because of being aloof; and by this Path these enemies that are the defilements are
destroyed (hatā), and so he is Araha due to the condition of having destroyed (hatattā)
his enemies (arī). Now he is Araha also because of his condition of destroying enemies,
in that all enemies are destroyed, his having wielded with the hand of faith the hatchet
of knowledge that puts an end to kamma, standing firm on the ground of morality,
with feet of heroism on the grounds of the Bodhi Tree, having destroyed the wheel of
saṃsāra with its spokes (ara) that are the constructions such as merit, et cetera, with its
hub consisting of ignorance and craving for becoming, with its axle consisting of the
origins of the oozings (āsava), with its rim of old age and death, joined to the chariot of
the three forms of becoming, revolving from beginningless time.
Alternatively, the wheel of saṃsāra is called the revolving of beginningless saṃsāra,
and its hub is ignorance because of it being a root. Its rim is old age and death because
236 Appendix B
of their being the conclusion; and the remaining ten phenomena [of dependent origi-
nation] are the spokes because of their being conditioned by ignorance and concluding
with old age and death. Here ignorance is failing to understand suffering, et cetera,
and ignorance in the realm of desire is a condition for the intentional constructions
[saṅkhāra] in the realm of desire. Ignorance in the realm of form is the condition
for intentional constructions in the realm of form. Ignorance in the formless realm
is the condition for intentional constructions in the formless realm. Intentional
constructions in the realm of desire are the conditions for rebirth consciousness in
the realm of desire. This method [goes for] the rest. The rebirth consciousness in the
realm of desire is the condition for name-and-form in the realm of desire, and likewise
in the realm of form. And it is the condition for name in the formless realm. Name-
and-form in the realm of desire is the condition for the six sense bases in the realm
of desire. Name-and-form in the realm of form is the condition for the three bases
[that is, mind, sight, and hearing] in the realm of form. Name in the formless realm is
the condition for the single sense base [that is, the mind base] in the formless realm.
The six sense bases in the realm of desire are the conditions for sixfold contact in the
realm of desire. Three sense bases in the realm of form are [the condition for] three-
fold contact in the realm of form; one sense base in the formless realm is the condition
for one kind of contact in the formless realm. Six kinds of contact in the realm of
desire are the conditions for six feelings. Likewise, three in the realm of form are [the
conditions] for three; and one in the formless realm is the condition for one type of
feeling. Six feelings in the realm of desire are the conditions for six groups of craving in
the realm of desire; likewise, three in the realm of form are for three; and one feeling
in the formless realm is the condition for one group of craving. In each case each one
is the condition for clinging of this one or that one. And clinging is the condition for
becoming.
How? Here a certain person thinks “I will enjoy sense desires” and from the condi-
tion of clinging to sense desires, practices bad conduct with the body [or] practices bad
conduct with speech [or] mind. Because of accomplishing bad conduct, he is reborn
in a lower state. The kamma that is the cause of his rebirth there is the becoming that
is kamma, the aggregates produced from that kamma are the becoming that is rebirth,
birth is the production of the aggregates, old age is [their] aging, and death is [their]
breaking up.
Another, [thinking] “I will enjoy the magnificence of heaven,” practices good con-
duct and attains heaven because of accomplishing good conduct. The kamma that is
the cause of his rebirth there is the becoming that is kamma. The rest is by the [same]
method.
Another, [thinking] “I will enjoy the magnificence of the Brahma world,” cultivates
loving kindness as a condition for rebirth in the realm of desire, or he cultivates com-
passion, sympathetic joy, equanimity, and is reborn in the Brahma world having accom-
plished meditative cultivation. The kamma that is the cause of his rebirth there is the
becoming that is kamma. The rest is by the [same] method.
Appendix B 237
Because of being aloof (āraka), and because of having destroyed (hata) the
enemies (ari) that are the defilements, this sage, who cut off (hata) the wheel of
saṃsāra, is worthy (araha) of requisites, et cetera; he does not do evil in secret
(raho), and because of this he called Araha.
A p p en d i x C
The first part of this selection expands Buddhaghosa’s characterization of both the
scriptural tradition and the omniscient knowledge of the Buddha as oceanic in a dis-
cussion unique to the Atthasālinī (As 10–18). The second part, on defining the three
piṭakas, is also found (with slight differences) in the nidānas to the Vinaya and the
Suttanta piṭakas (As 18–24; Sp i.18–28; Sv i.16–22). I discuss various passages from these
pages on many occasions throughout the book.
In this commentary on the Abhidhamma, Buddhaghosa develops an understanding
of it as an “ocean of methods,” an ocean that can be comprehended in its vastness only
by the oceanic ken of the Buddha. Buddhaghosa traces its discovery to the fourth week
of the Buddha’s awakening under the Mahābodhi tree. As he recreates this scene, we
are treated to a spectacular light display as the Buddha contemplates the seventh book
of the Abhidhamma, the Paṭṭhāna. It is only when contemplating this book that the
Buddha’s omniscience can begin to “find room,” and it is at this moment that six fabu-
lous rays of colored light spring out from his body to pervade the furthest reaches of the
three thousand thousandfold cosmos.
But as fantastic as this is, Buddhaghosa never drifts too far away from immediate
practicalities: how can such immeasurable knowledge be taught in any amount of
time? And to whom? And how can it be grasped by those of lesser understanding? It is
here that we learn how the Abhidhamma was taught for three months to the Buddha’s
mother in Tāvatiṃsa heaven, and then to the elder Sāriputta on earth. By fashioning
a clone of himself, the Buddha can simultaneously convey without interruption these
sublime teachings to the heavenly beings and return to the earth to brush his teeth, get
a meal, take a nap, and teach Sāriputta. But how to teach even this most excellent dis-
ciple, famed for his capacities for analysis? The Abhidhamma is given to him via a “gift
of methods,” a technique that allows the elder to generate it in its fullness.
240 Appendix C
The second half of the selection is an extended treatment of the piṭakas, where we
see Buddhaghosa reflect on genre and the types of teaching and learning that constitute
both the study and the compilations of the Vinaya, Suttanta, and the Abhidhamma.
Readers developing a fondness for nirutti analysis will get a further taste of this partic-
ular method of generating meaning from the phonemes in these words in the verses and
commentary developed here.
As in the other appendices, I have italicized words that have particular salience in
my discussion in the book, as well as words that are receiving commentarial exposition.
At t h a s ā l i n ī 10 –2 4
Now, in order to comprehend the depth of the Abhidhamma, four oceans should be
understood: the ocean of saṃsāra, the ocean of water, the ocean of methods (naya), and
the ocean of knowledge. Now, as for the ocean of saṃsāra:
The succession of aggregates, elements, and bases is the unbroken process referred
to as “saṃsāra.”
The round of saṃsāra is spoken of in this way: a first point of birth of these beings
is not discerned since beings are born going back a hundred years, a thousand years, a
hundred thousand years, a hundred aeons, a thousand aeons, or a hundred thousand
aeons; nor did they not exist previously, but have long been born in a time of such and
such a king, born in a time of such and such a buddha, and there is no end point in
which they previously did not exist. The beginning and end of the ocean of saṃsāra are
inconceivable according to what has been shown by this: “monks, a first point of igno-
rance is not discerned whereby [it might be said that] ignorance did not exist before
and came into being later.”
The ocean of water should be understood as the great ocean. It is 84,000 yojanas
deep. Here, there is no measure of the water, whether a hundred measuring cups or a
thousand measuring cups, or a hundred thousand measuring cups. So it is reckoned as
incalculable, immeasurable, just a great mass of water. This is called the ocean of water.
Which is the ocean of method? The Buddha’s words that are the three piṭakas. For
endless joy and happiness arise for those from a good family, possessing faith, abounding
in serene delight, whose knowledge is excellent, who reflect on two of the scriptures.
Which two? Vinaya and Abhidhamma. When monks who are Vinaya experts are
contemplating the Vinaya text, that is, the declaring of the rules according to faults,
[they realize] that it is the ken of buddhas alone, not the scope of others [to know]
“in this fault, in this transgression there is the declaring of a rule”; and endless joy and
happiness arise for those reflecting on the repeated [or abridged] formulas regarding
superhuman attainments, [colors like] blue, and acting as a go-between.1 And endless
1. I am grateful for Margaret Cone’s help with this passage, though we are still unclear on what
is meant that Vinaya experts reflect on abridged formulas on blue.
Appendix C 241
joy and happiness arise for those monks who are Abhidhammikas [that is, specialists]
reflecting on the Abhidhamma scripture thus: “the Teacher taught us [by] analyzing
the name-and-form dhammas, making this or that grouping, this or that division, as
though arranging the stars in the sky, which is an abstruse and subtle teaching that
has classified into what is form and what is formless the manifold2 aggregates, bases,
elements, faculties, powers, limbs of awakening, kamma and its results.”
A story of this should be understood with this incident: the Elder Mahāgatigamiyatissa
went across the sea [thinking] “I will worship the Mahābodhi Tree,” and sitting on the
upper deck of the ship, he beheld the great ocean. On that occasion (tasmiṃ samaye)
he could not see the far shore nor the near shore, and saw only the great ocean covered
with foam from the fast-breaking waves like a silver cloth spread out and strewn with
jasmine blossoms. He began to wonder which is more powerful: the speeding waves of
the great ocean or the basis of the method in the entire Paṭṭhāna with its twenty-four
divisions. He knew that the great ocean is bordered by the great earth below, by the sky
above, by the ring of mountains on one side, and by shores on the other; yet a border to
the entire Paṭṭhāna cannot be known. And so the abstruse and subtle Dhamma appears
as more powerful by one so considering. Even while seated there he was overcome with
joy, increased his insight, destroyed the defilements, and attained the highest fruition
which is arhatship. And he made this cry of ecstasy:
Now having understood for oneself the very difficult and deep wisdom
With [all] causes and origins in succession
taught in its entirety by the Great Sage,
one sees it as though it had assumed a form.
2. For interpreting antara at the end of khandhantara, and so forth, I am aided by the
Mūlaṭīkā: “khandhantaranti khandhanānattaṃ khandhameva vā”: “khandantara” is the man-
ifold [diversity of ] aggregates or just the aggregates.”
242 Appendix C
stood gazing at the throne with unblinking eyes for seven days [thinking] “on this
very throne I penetrated the knowledge of omniscience.” Then a thought arose for the
deities: “surely there is something still to be done by Siddhattha today for he has not
eliminated attachment to that throne.” So the Teacher, knowing that thought of the
deities, rose up into the sky to remove their impression and displayed the Twin Miracle.
The Twin Miracle performed on the Mahābodhi throne, the Miracle performed at the
assembly of his relatives, and the Miracle performed at the assembly at Pāṭiyaputta were
all similar to the Twin Miracle performed at the roots of the Kaṇḍamba tree. Having
performed the Twin Miracle in this way, he descended from the sky and walked for
seven days between the throne and the place where he had stood. And at no time on
any day during the next twenty-one days did rays of light extend from the body of the
Teacher.
But in the fourth week he sat in the Jewel House facing the northwestern direc-
tion. Note that the jewel house is not a house made of seven jewels but rather, what
should be understood is a house of jewels for contemplating the seven treatises [of the
Abhidhamma]. And here rays of light did not extend from his body while contemplating
the Dhammasaṅgaṇī. Nor did rays of light extend from his body while contemplating
the treatises of the Vibhaṅga, Dhātukatha, Puggalapaññatti, Kathāvatthu, or Yamaka
either. But when he dived into the Great Treatise, beginning to grasp “the condition
of cause, the condition of basis, the condition of nondisappearance, et cetera” then his
omniscient knowledge found space in the Great Treatise as he grasped completely the
entire Paṭṭhāna of twenty-four [relations]. For just as the leviathan Timirapiṅgala finds
space only in the great ocean 84,000 yojanas deep, so too the knowledge of omniscience
finds room completely only in the Great Treatise.
With the space achieved by the knowledge of omniscience of the Teacher who had
grasped the abstruse and subtle Dhamma easily, six rays of light—blue-black, golden,
red, white, copper, and shimmery—cast forth from his body. The blue-black rays cast
forth from his hair and from the blue-black places in his eyes; and by them the surface
of the sky appeared to be dusted with collyrium powder, covered with blue lotuses and
blue flax, like a jeweled fan waving to and fro, and like a dark blue cloth stretched out.
The golden rays cast forth from the golden places of his eyes and skin, and by them
the directions shone brilliantly as though streaming from a shower of golden liquid,
spread with a golden cloth, and strewn with saffron powder and the blossoms of the
Kanak Champa tree.
The red rays cast forth from the red places in his eyes and from his flesh and blood,
and by them the directions shone brilliantly as though dyed with powder from red lead,
sprinkled with the liquid from molten lac, covered with a red blanket, and strewn with
Scarlet Pentapetes, Pāribhaddaka, and Bandhujīvaka flowers.
The white rays cast forth from the white places in his eyes and from his bones and
teeth, and by them the directions shone brilliantly as though issuing from a stream of
milk flowing from a silver bowl, like a canopy of a spread-out silver cloth, like a silver
Appendix C 243
fan waving to and fro, and like strewn blossoms of Kunda jasmine, white water lilies, the
Nirgunda shrub, Sumana jasmine, Mallika jasmine, et cetera.
The coppery and shimmery rays cast forth from this and that place in his body.
These six rays, having cast out, caught the massive and great earth.
The great earth, more than two hundred and forty thousand yojanas thick, became
like a ball of polished gold. And having pierced the great earth, they [the rays] caught the
water below. The water that holds back the earth, more than four hundred and eighty
thousand yojanas deep, became like refined gold sprinkled from golden cups. Having
penetrated the water, they caught the atmosphere. The atmosphere, more than nine
hundred and sixty thousand yojanas in breadth, became like a mass of compounded
gold. Having penetrated the atmosphere, they sprang out further into open space.
And having ascended to the upper regions, the rays caught the [worlds] of the Four
Great Kings. Having penetrated these, they penetrated the Tāvatiṃsa, Yama, Tusita,
Nammānaratī and Paranimmitavasavattī worlds, then the nine Brahmā worlds, the
Vehapphala, and then having penetrated the five Pure Abodes, they caught the four
formless realms. And having penetrated the four formless realms, they sprang out into
open space.
They sprang out horizontally into endless world-systems. In so many of these places
there is no moonlight in the moon, no sunlight in the sun, no starlight in the stars,
and nowhere is there light in the pleasure gardens, palaces, and wishing trees of the
deities, in their bodies or their ornaments. Even the Great Brahmā, able to suffuse the
three thousand thousandfold world systems with light became like a firefly at sunrise.
There was known only the mere borders of the moon, sun, stars, divine pleasure parks,
palaces, and wishing trees. The Buddha’s rays overwhelmed so much space. But this was
not the Buddha’s magical power of resolve, nor the magical power created by medita-
tion. Rather, the blood of the Lord of the World became bright as he contemplated
the abstruse and subtle Dhamma, and his physical form became bright, and the com-
plexion of his skin became bright. The actual material form that arises from such aware-
ness completely and steadily established itself in a place measuring eighty cubits. He
contemplated in this manner for seven days.
How large is the Dhamma contemplated for seven days and nights? It is endless and
immeasurable. This is the extent of the Teaching [occurring] in the mind. But it is not
to be said that the Teacher, [although] having put into speech the Dhamma thought out
by the mind for seven days, cannot teach and arrive at the end of it even in a hundred
years, a thousand years, or a hundred thousand years. For subsequently the Tathāgata
taught it, seated in the middle of the deities of the ten thousand world systems on the
stone throne of Sakka at the root of the heavenly Coral Tree in the Tāvatiṃsa realm,
making his mother grasp the truth of the body, teaching the Dhamma thus: “these are
the good dhammas, these are the bad dhammas, these are the indeterminate dhammas,”
passing on from one dhamma to the next dhamma through a hundred divisions, a
thousand divisions, a hundred thousand divisions. This teaching set forth without
244 Appendix C
interruption for three months was endless and immeasurable as it flowed rapidly like
the heavenly Ganges and like water ushering from an upside-down pot.
For a teaching of buddhas making a blessing at the time of blessing a meal, if ex-
panded just a little, is the length of the Dīgha and Majjhima Nikāyas. And the teaching
of those teaching the Dhamma to an assembly gathered at the end of a meal is the length
of the two large nikāyas, the Saṃyutta and Aṅguttara together. How is this possible?
The life spans of buddhas are fleeting, and [so] their teeth touch well, their mouths
flow smoothly, their tongues are supple, their sounds, sweet, and their words, quick.
Therefore, so much Dhamma can be taught in a moment. However, the Dhamma
taught in the three months is still endless and immeasurable.
For even the elder Ānanda, [honored as] “He Who Heard Much,” a master of the
three piṭakas, learned, recited, or taught 1,500 verses and 60,000 words standing there
as easily as if he were plucking flowers from vines. And that much was just one of this
elder’s courses of exposition. But while giving the exposition continuously, the elder
would not be able to give another one, or even learn it. Only the Perfectly Awakened
One could cause [him] to learn it. A disciple of such extraordinary memory, extraor-
dinary understanding, and extraordinary resolution is not able to reach the end of
the teaching taught in this manner by the Teacher in the three-month period even if
studying for a hundred or a thousand years.
But while teaching without interruption for three months in this way, how did the
Tathāgata feed his body which comes from [past] clinging and is dependent on mate-
rial food? Only by eating. For buddhas every period of time is well appointed, well di-
vided, and easily perceived. Therefore, the Bhagavan, even while teaching the Dhamma,
observed time in the human world. He noted that it was time for the almsround and
so created a fabricated buddha, determining that “this one should teach the Dhamma
up to a certain extent while holding the robe, the bowl, the cup, and assuming a guise
of likeness,” while he, taking his own bowl and robe, went to Anotatta Lake. There the
deities gave him a tooth stick made of nāga creepers. Having chewed this and attended
to his body in Anotatta Lake, he stood at the platform, got dressed in his red-dyed cloth
and donned his robe, took his crystal bowl offered by the Four Great Kings, and went
to Uttarakuru. Then he gathered almsfood, sat at the banks of Anotatta Lake, enjoyed
it, and headed to a sandalwood grove for the midday rest.
The elder Sāriputta, General of the Dhamma, went there, performed the duties
for the Perfectly Awakened One, and sat to one side. Then the Teacher gave him the
method (naya). He showed him, “Sāriputta, so much Dhamma is taught by me.” When
the Perfectly Awakened One was giving the method in this way to the chief disciple ac-
complished in analysis (paṭisambhidā), there was a gift of the method (nayadāna) much
like one pointing at what is seen by stretching out one’s hand while standing at the
seashore. And to the elder also the Dhamma, taught by the Bhagavan with a hundred
methods, a thousand methods, a hundred thousand methods, became clear.
Having sat in that divine abode, at what time did the Teacher go to teach the
Dhamma? There is a time for teaching the Dhamma to the inhabitants of Sāvatthi,
Appendix C 245
sons of good families, who have arrived, and it was at that time that he went. And
[while the fabricated Buddha in Tāvatiṃsa] was teaching the Dhamma, who
[among the deities] recognized the one who had gone or the one returning, and
who did not? The most eminent deities knew, while the deities of lesser eminence
did not know. Why did they not know? Because there was no difference between
the Perfectly Awakened One and the fabricated Buddha with regard to their rays
of light, et cetera. For there is no difference in the rays, the sound, or the words of
both of them.
Now, the elder Sāriputta took the Dhamma taught in this way by the Teacher and
taught five hundred of his fellow monks in his monastery. There is a connection to the
past for these [monks]: they had been born at the time of the Ten-Powered Kassapa
Buddha as little bats and were hanging in a mountain cave when there was the sound of
two Abhidhammika monks reciting the Abhidhamma. They took it as a portent even
though they did not know the dark side from the light side, and just because they took
it as a portent, when they died they were reborn in the realm of the deities. Having
lived in the realm of the deities for one interval between buddhas, they were born in
the human realm at this time and, being delighted by the Twin Miracle, ordained as
monks in the presence of the elder. The elder took the Dhamma taught in this way
by the Teacher and taught it to them. And at the conclusion of the teaching of the
Abhidhamma of the Perfectly Awakened One, these monks grasped the seven treatises
immediately.
The way of reciting in the Abhidhamma originated with the elder Sāriputta. And
the process of enumeration in the Great Treatise was established by the elder. For the
elder, without effacing the distinctiveness of the Dhamma in this manner, established a
process of enumeration in order to make it easier to grasp, retain, master, and say. This
being so, was he then the first Abhidhammika? No, he was not. The first Abhidhammika
is the Perfectly Awakened One alone. Sitting on the throne at the Mahābodhi Tree, he
penetrated it and became the Buddha. And seated at the single throne for seven days he
uttered this cry of ecstasy:
This was the first utterance of the Buddha. But the reciters of the Dhammapada
differ, and say that this was the first utterance of the Buddha:
At the occasion of the final nibbāna while lying between the pair of Sāl trees the
final utterance of the Buddha was spoken thus: “Come now, monks, I tell you, condi-
tioned things are subject to decay. Strive with vigilance.” Now, the Good Dhamma is
the words of the Buddha that illuminate the Deathless that were taught by the Buddha
between these two events for forty-five years as though he were connecting a garland of
flowers and stringing together a line of jewels.
All of this gathered together comprises the three piṭakas by way of piṭaka, the five
nikāyas by way of nikāya, ninefold by way of parts, and 84,000 divisions by way of
divisions of the Dhamma. How exactly? Everything is divided into just three by way of
piṭaka: the Vinaya Piṭaka, the Suttanta Piṭaka and the Abhidhamma Piṭaka. Here, both
Pātimokkhas, two Vibhaṅghas, twenty-two Khandhakas, and sixteen Parivāras are the
Vinaya Piṭaka. The Dīgha Nikāya is the collection of thirty-four suttas starting with
the Brahmajāla. The Majjhima Nikāya is the collection of 152 suttas beginning with the
Mūlapariyāya. The Saṃyutta Nikāya is the collection of 7,762 suttas beginning with the
Oghataraṇa. The Aṅguttara Nikāya is the collection of 9,557 suttas beginning with the
Cittapariyādāna. And the Suttanta Piṭaka also includes the Khuddaka Nikāya divided
into fifteen by way of these texts: the Khuddakapāṭha, the Dhammapada, the Udāna,
the Itivuttaka, the Suttanipāta, the Vimānavatthu, the Petavatthu, the Theragāthā, the
Therīgāthā, the Jātaka, the Niddesa, the Paṭisambhidā, the Apadāna, the Buddhavaṃsa,
and the Cariyāpiṭaka. And the seven treatises starting with the Dhammasaṅgaṇī are the
Abhidhamma Piṭaka.
Now,
The Vinaya is called “vinaya” by those wise (vidū) in the meaning of vinaya be-
cause it contains various (vividha) and distinctive (visesa) methods (naya) and
because it disciplines (vinaya) body and speech.
For here, its methods are various in reference to the fivefold recitation (uddesa) of the
Pātimokkha, which can be divided into the matrix (mātikā) of the seven sections on
offences beginning with the defeats, and the analysis (vibhaṅga), et cetera, and they are
distinctive because the methods of supplementary regulations aim to make flexible what
Appendix C 247
is rigid. It disciplines body and speech by restraining physical and verbal transgression.
Therefore, because of having various methods and because of its distinctive methods the
Vinaya is called “vinaya” because of disciplining body and speech. Because of this the
following is said for the sake of proficiency in the meaning of the utterance:
The Vinaya is called “vinaya” by those wise in the meaning of vinaya because it
contains various and distinctive methods and because it disciplines body and
speech.
And further:
[The Suttanta] is called “sutta” because it is indicating (sūcana) meanings
(attha), because it is well-spoken (suvutta), because it is flowing (savana), be-
cause it is yielding (sūdana), because of its stringing together (suttāṇa), and be-
cause of a sutta being shared in common (sabhāga).3
It indicates this in reference to meaning divided into meaning for oneself and meaning
for others, et cetera. It is well-spoken in that the meanings are spoken in accordance with
the inclinations of those being taught right here. It flows is said [to indicate] that it bears
fruit in meaning, like crops. It yields is said [to indicate] that it discharges as a cow does
milk. And it is good (suṭṭhu) is said [to indicate] that it protects and guards them. And
there is the sharing in common of a sutta. And just as a thread is a measure for carpenters,
in this way [a thread/sutta] is for the wise. And just as flowers strung by a thread do not
scatter and disperse, so too by it meanings are gathered. Because of this the following is
said for the sake of proficiency in the meaning of the utterance:
The meaning of the word Abhidhamma has already been mentioned.4 Here is an-
other method:
3. This ancient verse has words that are not in The Pali Text Society’s Pali-English Dictionary and
are to be understood from the Sanskrit: sūdana (Skt syandana, “dropping, oozing, trickling”
and suttāṇā (from Skt. sūtraṇa, “the act of stringing together”), as well as Buddhaghosa’s exe-
gesis of them (Monier-Williams, Sanskrit-English Dictionary, 1273, 1242).
4. In an earlier part of the Atthasālinī, not translated here.
248 Appendix C
Here the word “abhi” is shown in reference to [all of these]—how [the dhammas] can
be grown, characterized, honored, defined, and can exceed. Therefore, they can be grown
is understood in such [canonical passages as]: “my severe and painful feelings increase
(abhikkamanti) without relenting.” In terms of characteristics: “such nights as these
characterized (abhiññāta) and distinguished (abhilakkhita),” et cetera. In terms of
being honored [we have similar epithets such as]: “mighty king of kings, ruler of men,” et
cetera. They are defined in this way where Dhamma and Vinaya are not to be confused
with one another: “one able to instruct in the higher Dhamma (abhidhamma) and in
the higher Vinaya (abhivinaya).” And they exceed is “because of surpassing beauty,” et
cetera.
Now here, phenomena (dhamma) are said to be grown also by [another]
method: “one has cultivated the Path by giving rise to the [realm of ] form, and so,
having pervaded one direction with thoughts accompanied by loving-kindness, one
dwells.” They have characteristics (salakkhaṇa) because of their being characterized
by their object, et cetera, by a method such as: “it has as its object a visual form or
it has as its object a sound.” They are honored means they are worthy of reverence by
this method: “trainer phenomena, adept phenomena, transcendent phenomena,” et
cetera. They are defined because of being defined by their particularity (sabhāva) by this
method: “there is contact, there is feeling,” et cetera. And the phenomena are said to
exceed by this method: “dhammas that are extensive, dhammas that are immeasurable,
dhammas that are incomparable,” et cetera. Because of this the following is said for the
sake of proficiency in the meaning of the utterance:
People learned about the meaning of piṭaka refer to piṭaka in the sense of an
area of study (pariyatti) and basket. Because of this, having collected them to-
gether, they are known as three, starting with the Vinaya.
Now, that a piṭaka is an area of study is said in such quotations as “do not go by mastery
of an area of study,” and that it is also a basket is evident in such statements as “if a man
were to pick up a hoe and basket and go.” Therefore, those learned in the meaning of
“piṭaka” refer to piṭaka in the sense of an area of study and basket.
Now, because of this, having collected them together, they are known as three, starting
with the Vinaya—a compound is made with the word piṭaka in its two meanings in this
way, and so Vinaya is a piṭaka because of being an area of study, and, from that meaning,
it is also the Vinaya Piṭaka by being a basket. And by the same method, the Suttanta is
Appendix C 249
also a piṭaka [by being an area of study] and it is the Suttanta Piṭaka. Likewise for the
Abhidhamma as a piṭaka and as the Abhidhamma Piṭaka, and so they are known as
three, starting with the Vinaya.
Having understood this, there more [to be said] for the sake of proficiency in the
various kinds of these piṭakas:
One may illuminate the types of teaching, instruction, and discourse as appro-
priate according to training (sikkhā), avoidance (pahāna), and depth (gambhīra).
This should be made entirely clear: the monk who attains success and failure in
the different kinds of study.
And here is the illuminating and the making clear: these three piṭakas are said
to be, in order, teachings as commands (āṇā), as colloquial speech (vohāra), and
[teachings] in the furthest sense (paramattha); [they are] instruction according to
transgression, according to what is suitable, and according to the dhammas; and
they are discourses on the kinds of restraint, unraveling views, and distinguishing
name-and-form.
Now, the Vinaya Piṭaka is a teaching by commands due to a preponderance
of commands, because of being taught by the Bhagavan who is worthy of giving
commands. The Suttanta Piṭaka is a colloquial teaching due to a preponderance of the
colloquial, because of being taught by the Bhagavan who is skillful in the colloquial.
The Abhidhamma Piṭaka is said to be teachings in the furthest sense due to its preponder-
ance of further meaning (paramattha), because of being taught by the Bhagavan who is
skillful in further meaning.
And now, instruction according to transgression is when he instructs concerning
beings with repeated transgressions according to transgression. Secondly, instruc-
tion according to what is suitable is when he instructs beings according to their various
inclinations, biases, practices, and dispositions. And, thirdly, instruction according to the
dhammas is when he teaches to beings who attribute “I” and “mine” to a mere heap of
phenomena (dhammas).
And now, discourse on the kinds of restraint refers to the kinds of restraint described
here as opposing infractions; and the kinds of restraint are the lesser and greater kinds
of restraint [in a compound interpreted as] “kinds of restraint” [saṃvarāsaṃvaro]
which is like [the compounds] “kinds of kamma” (kammākamma) and “kinds of fruit”
(phalāphala). Secondly, discourse unraveling views is described here as the unraveling of
views that opposes the sixty-two views [of the Brahmajāla Sutta]. And, thirdly, it is said
that discourse distinguishing name-and-form is described here as the distinguishing of
name-and-form that opposes passion, et cetera.
And there should be understood that there are three trainings, three avoidances, and
four kinds of depth in each of the three piṭakas. Now, in the Vinaya Piṭaka there is said
to be specifically training in higher moral precepts (adhisīla), in the Suttanta Piṭaka
250 Appendix C
One may illuminate the types of teaching, instruction, and discourse as ap-
propriate according to training (sikkhā), avoidance (pahāna), and depth
(gambhīra).
This should be made entirely clear: the monk who attains success and failure
in the different kinds of study.
[Piṭaka in the sense of ] area of study (pariyatti) is to be seen here in reference to the
three piṭakas. For there are three kinds of study: that of a person catching a snake, that
of a person seeking escape, and the study of the treasurer.
Here those catching a snake have learned it badly, doing it for the sake of reproaching
[others], et cetera. This has been said in this connection: “Monks, just as a man catching
a snake, searching for a snake, and wanting a snake roams around until he sees a huge
snake and then grabs its hood or its tail. The snake would whip around and bite his
hand or arm or any other limb or extremity; this would be the source of death or deadly
pain for him. Why is that? Because of grasping the snake badly, monks. And in this
way too, monks, certain foolish people learn the Dhamma, whether the suttas [or any
of the other treatises up to] the questionings, and having learned the Dhamma without
investigating its meaning through understanding the teachings, they cannot gain insight
into a meaning that is not investigated for they only learn the teaching for the purpose
of reproaching others and for the purpose of being free of criticism. Those learning the
Dhamma for such purposes do not acquire its meaning. These teachings badly learned
lead to their harm and suffering for a long time. What is the reason? Because, monks, of
the poor grasp of the teachings” (M i.133–34).
But those who learn with a desire to fulfill the sections on the moral precepts and
not for reason of reproaching others are those seeking escape [from saṃsāra]. It is said in
connection to this that “monks, these teachings lead to their welfare and happiness for
a long time. What is the reason for this? Because of the good grasp of the teachings.”
The study of the treasurer is that of the arhat for whom the aggregates are well under-
stood, the defilements are eliminated, the Path is cultivated, the attainment is steadfast,
and cessation is realized, who learns only for the sake of preserving the tradition and
protecting the lineage.
Now the monk deeply learned in Vinaya, by achieving the moral precepts, obtains
the three knowledges that have been described here in the word-analysis. One deeply
learned in the Sutta, by achieving concentration, obtains six higher knowledges that
have been described here in the word-analysis. One deeply learned in Abhidhamma, by
achieving understanding, obtains the four kinds of analysis (paṭisambhidā) that have
been described here in the word-analysis. And so one deeply learned in these succes-
sively in this way obtain success in the three knowledges, the six higher knowledges, and
the four analyses.
252 Appendix C
But one poorly accomplished in Vinaya perceives as blameless contact with things
causing attachment that are forbidden because of [thinking that they are] the same as
contact with blankets and cloaks that are pleasing to the touch and not proscribed.
For this is said: “I know the Dhamma taught by the Bhagavan, wherein some things
mentioned by the Bhagavan are injurious but are not harmful when practiced [by me].”
From this one obtains a condition of bad moral precepts. One poorly accomplished in
Sutta, not knowing the intended meaning in such statements as “there are four kinds
of people in this world,” et cetera, has a poor grasp of things. In connection to this, it
is said: “because of his poor grasp he accuses us, uproots himself, and generates much
demerit.” He comes to have false views. One poorly accomplished in Abhidhamma
overruns thinking on dhammas and thinks about imponderables, and from this
becomes deranged. For this is said: “monks, there are four imponderables, not to be
thought about since one thinking of them gets deranged and vexed.” So it is that one
poorly accomplished in these [piṭakas] achieves failure in each of these in succession: a
condition of bad precepts, false views, and deranged mind. And so:
This should be made entirely clear: the monk who attains success and failure in
the different kinds of study.
5. This final line is rendered differently (and more clearly) in the commentaries on the Vinaya
and the Dīgha Nikāya: “Knowing the piṭakas by these various ways, the threefold buddhavacana
should be known by means of them” (Sp i.26; Sv i.22).
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Index
in the Abhidhamma, 49, 52–57, 63, Lamotte, Étienne, 34n2, 39n17, 83–84,
154–63, 178–79, 221, 239–52 95n106, 96, 104, 187n3
Buddhaghosa on, 1–30, language, see Māgadha; nirutti
38–44, 218–22 Law, B. C., 26, 64n16, 77n59,
in his meanings and phrasings, 91n97, 118–19
33–59, 73–85 linguistic analysis, 39–40, 61, 76n56,
in his teachings, 2, 8–9, 14–18, 21, 27, 77–79, 230. See also byañjana;
33–59, 68, 73–85, 103–7, 110–11 nirutti; paṭisaṃbhidā
interpretable (neyyatha) statements, linguistic capacity, 78n63
7, 29, 60–61, 64n14, 94–97, lokiya, 51n57
102, 221–22 lokuttara, 51n57
Isipatana, 158, 186–87
itipiso contemplation, 83, 202–5, 207, Madhupiṇḍika Sutta, 43
216–17, 222, 229–38 Madhyamaka, 147, 168–69, 174
Itivuttaka, 36n8, 258 Māgadha, 1–2, 77–79, 78n65,
79n68, 83, 85
Jainism, 22, 56–57, 57n73 Mahāgatigamiyatissa, 54–55, 155, 241
Jains, 15, 44, 45n35, 57n73, 97n113, 99 Mahākaccāna, 43, 43n26, 64, 71
Jātakanidāna, 5n9, 45n33, 117–18, Mahākammavibhaṅga Sutta, 64
157–58, 216 Mahākassapa, 34–36, 116–17, 186, 214–16
jātaka stories, 36n8, 50n49, 114, 117, Mahākoṭṭḥita, 64
159–60, 246 Mahānidāna Sutta, 125n35, 125–26, 130
jhāna, 101–2, 156, 169, 204, 206, 227 Mahāniddesa, 47n47, 64–65
Judaism, 16–17 Mahāpaduma Thera, 211, 211n79
Mahāparinibbāna Sutta, 114n9,
Kabbalists, 16–17 187–88n3, 215n92
Kakusandha, 210 Mahāṭṭhakathā, 65
kammavācā requirements, 186–88 Mahāvagga, 72, 186–87
Kaṅkhāvitaraṇī, 189n8 Mahāvihāra (Great Monastery), 1–2, 22,
Kassapa, 210, 245 27–28, 34n2, 40n21, 67–68, 196
Kathāsaritsāgara, 53n61 Mahāvīra, 15, 44, 44n29
Kathāvatthu (Issues for Discussion), 43, Mahāyāna Buddhism, 15, 78n63, 83–84,
45n33, 88–89, 92–93, 146, 242 91–92, 104–5, 118n22
Khandhaka, 36, 72, 186–88, 246 Majjhima Nikāya, 36, 64n16, 101,
Khuddaka Nikāya, 5n9, 36, 36n8, 37–38, 136, 246
223, 246 Malliṣeṇa, 57n73
Khuddakapāṭha, 21, 36, 36n8, Many Types of Feeling Sutta
120n27, 246 (Bahuvedanīya Sutta), 98n114,
commentary on (Paramatthajotikā), 150–51, 153, 170
5n10, 19, 21–22, 65–66 mātikā (matrix), 7, 43, 66, 71, 71n43, 73,
Konāgamana, 210 187, 193, 246
270 Index
meaning, 3, 4, 7, 26, 28, 61, 86, 88, 118, 153, Milindapañha, 36n8, 147n7
190, 198, 207, 247, 251. See also attha modal, 97n113, 98, 152, 163, 165–66, 168,
expanding or developing, 12, 15, 16–18, 174, 207–8, 230
20, 43, 59, 62, 64, 66–68, 70, 85, mode, see ākāra
200, 203, 220, 230, 247–48 modernism, Buddhist, 24, 115, 221
surplus of, 16, 50n51 modularity, 15, 19–20, 28, 38, 81, 81n71, 146,
meaning commentary (atthavaṇṇanā), 152, 154, 162–65, 174, 203, 220, 222
65–67, 119, 231 Moggaliputta Tissa, 43, 146, 217
meditation, 11–13, 20, 23, 69, 172, 180n81, Moggallāna, 132–33, 202, 208–10, 217
182n83, 227, 237, 243 moral precepts, see sīla
the Buddha’s contemplations, 35, 40, Mūlapariyāya Sutta, 126, 136–43, 162, 246
55–56, 154–55, 156n26, 158, 186,
239, 241 Nāgārjuna, 85, 85n82, 91n97
calming, 11, 12, 48n48, 224–25, 227 Ñāṇamoli, Bhikkhu, 5n10, 10n18, 26n64,
(see also jhāna) 57n75, 66, 70n38, 76n56, 169n46,
contemplative exercises, 9, 20, 23, 55, 173n54, 230
68–69, 83, 90, 92, 98, 102, 110, 113, Nance, Richard, 39n18, 70–71, 77n61,
155, 160, 173n53, 180n81, 181–83, 185, 110–11, 118n22
196, 203–207, 214, 216, 218, 220, 230 Nāṭyaśāstra, 53n61
insight, 11, 12, 224–225 naya (methods), 6, 15n32, 25n62, 42, 52,
Recollections, 9, 20, 69, 80n70, 83, 53n62, 55–58, 60n1, 61n3, 65, 69, 79,
113, 173, 185, 203–204, 206, 216, 97n113, 146, 155, 157n28, 163, 175,
222–23, 227 193, 240, 244, 246–47
Methods (see also naya; pariyāya) Nettippakaraṇa (The Guide), 4–5, 10n20,
Abhidhamma methods, 15, 42–43, 46, 25–26, 36n8, 37n10, 57, 69–71,
49–57, 63, 73, 93–94, 94n104, 74–75, 118, 223
101–103, 106, 109, 146–168, neyyattha (to be interpreted), 7, 29,
174–182, 196, 239–41, 244 60–61, 64n14, 94–97, 102, 221–22
of the Buddha’s pedagogy, 7, 42, 57, nibbana, 11, 35, 85–86, 99, 145, 201,
60–61, 66, 68, 105–106, 138, 155, 224–27, 238, 246
164, 175–77, 207, 225 nidānas (introduction, origin, context)
interpretative, 3, 6, 10n20, 15, 23, canonical, 11, 29, 105, 110, 112–23,
25–28, 56–58, 61, 64–79, 83, 96, 131–32, 140, 185, 220, 224
103–106, 113–14, 141, 164, 173, 182, commentarial, 5–6, 19, 115, 117, 123, 126,
203, 213, 222, 234 131–35, 156–61, 185–86, 197–202,
“ocean of,” 6n11, 15, 25n62, 48–57, 205, 213–20
154–63, 196, 239, 241 definition of, 110, 116–23, 135, 141,
piṭakas as, 6, 29, 38, 49–58, 61, 63, 143, 193n22
101–103, 113–16, 155, 177, 193, 203, introduction to each piṭaka, 5–6, 19,
220–22, 235–37, 239–52 113, 117, 119, 185–86, 197, 200, 216,
mētis (practical knowledge), 104, 105, 221 220, 239
Index 271