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Mahāparinibbāṇa Sutta (4 of 4)

We come to the fourth of four talks on the Mahāparinibbāna Sutta^[1]. Let me briefly recap where we've come so far. We joined the Buddha in Rājagaha, staying just outside the city in the ancient empire of Magadha, not far from Bodh Gaya, or south of Patna in modern Bihar. We saw that he was confronted with the threat of war and was asked for his advice regarding King Ajātasattu's desire to invade the Vajjis. We saw the Buddha's response to that, and we've seen him embark on his last journey heading north up through Nālandā, up through Pāṭaliputta, through the land of the Vajjis, and through to the land of the Mallas.

There, in the land of the Mallas, in the little town called Kusinārā, we finally saw the Buddha reach the destination of his Parinibbāna. We left him last week with his final words.

The Final Meditative Attainments

After the Buddha spoke his last words, he entered the first absorption (the first jhāna^[2]). After that, he entered the second jhāna, then the third, the fourth, the dimension of infinite space, the dimension of infinite consciousness, the dimension of nothingness, and the dimension of neither perception nor non-perception (nevasaññānāsaññāyatana). Finally, he entered the cessation of perception and feeling.

The Venerable Ānanda said to Venerable Anuruddha, "Honorable Anuruddha, has the Buddha become fully extinguished?"

"No, Reverend Ānanda, he has entered the cessation of perception and feeling."

Just a tiny little note here on the usage of the honorifics. Notice how the text uses the word āyasmā (translated as "venerable"), and then we have bhante, which, when vocative, I use "honorable." Then "reverend" translates to āvuso. This shows who is the senior of the two, but only by a little bit. Ānanda had adopted the forms of address that the Buddha recommended only a few minutes previously.

Then, the Buddha emerged from the cessation of perception and feeling and entered the dimension of neither perception nor non-perception. Emerging from that, he successively entered into and emerged from the dimension of nothingness, the dimension of infinite consciousness, the dimension of infinite space, the fourth absorption, the third absorption, the second absorption, and the first absorption.

Then, emerging from that, he successively entered into and emerged from the second absorption and the third absorption. He then entered the fourth absorption. Emerging from that, the Buddha immediately became fully extinguished.

The Buddha here is giving a spectacular display of his meditation capabilities. Venerable Anuruddha was a master of psychic powers and was capable of knowing what meditation the Buddha was entering into. Ānanda was less accomplished in that regard, so he thought that when the Buddha attained the cessation of perception and feeling, because of the deep stillness in his body—no movement or breath—that he had died.

Understanding the Jhānas and Formless Attainments

I'm sure most of you are familiar with these meditations: the four jhānas, the formless attainments, and the cessation of perception and feeling. These are the core, very profound attainments of samādhi that the Buddha realized and taught.

Of these nine specified attainments, the first four jhānas are the most central. They always find a place in the Noble Eightfold Path, the five indriyas, the five balas, the seven awakening factors, and the threefold training. Basically, anywhere the Buddha gave an overarching teaching on his practice, he included the four jhānas. These are states where the mind is free from hindrances, and because the mind is free, you can see the nature of reality very clearly.

The formless attainments build on those form jhānas. The classical description says they essentially have the same mental factors as the fourth jhāna—mindfulness and equanimity—but the state itself becomes more and more refined.

The first four jhānas are known as the "form jhānas" because there is present in them some echo of a material presence or phenomenon. Typically, this is the light, which these days we call the nimitta^[3] in meditation. When we see a light in meditation, in Pali this is called rūpa (form). It's not material in the sense of existing in the physical world, but it's an inner mental perception of material qualities.

This is one of the fundamental distinctions between the idea of rūpa in Buddhism and the idea of matter or form in Western philosophy. In Buddhism, a form can be perceived entirely in the mind. If you imagine a house or a camel in your mind, this is rūpa and it belongs to the rūpakkhandha^[4] (the form aggregate) because it has material properties such as color, shape, or position, even though it doesn't correspond to anything physical. This is also called sukhuma rūpa (subtle form).

In these form jhānas, there is this sukhuma rūpa, which typically is the subjective experience of a light reflecting the meditation that brought you into that state. Usually, that's called a nimitta these days, although in the suttas, the word has a different sense. In the suttas, nimitta means an aspect of experience which you pay attention to in order to promote the growth of similar properties. For example, the samatha nimitta is the sign of tranquility. You pay attention to things in your mind that help your mind become more tranquil. The paggaha nimitta is the sign of exertion; you pay attention to things that tend to uplift or make you more energetic.

These form jhānas are profound states of stillness, and their profundity is echoed by showing how close it is to the Buddha's experience of Parinibbāna. Elsewhere, the four jhānas are called "Nibbāna in this very life" because the mind is so pure and clear that the experience is very close to Nibbāna.

The Buddha is demonstrating this here, and I think this demonstration has a few purposes. It is showing the importance of these meditations in Buddhism, and it's reinforcing the fact that his own mental faculties are undimmed even as he draws so close to his death. His body was falling apart, but his mastery of the mind was unaffected.

The formless attainments are called āyatanas (dimensions or fields). The dimension of infinite space is essentially what is left behind when that rūpa disappears. If you have a perception of light in your meditation and it disappears, the empty space where that light was is the dimension of infinite space. It gets very subtle and a bit weird here!

Infinite consciousness is where even the perception of that infinite space disappears, leaving only the consciousness that was aware of it. Interestingly, infinite consciousness was a pre-Buddhist concept. We find it mentioned explicitly in the teachings of Yājñavalkya^[5] in the Bṛhadāraṇyaka Upanishad in his discourse with his wife, Maitreyī. He refers to the Brahman (the cosmic Ātman) as being the anantaṃ viññāṇaṃ (infinite consciousness). For him, this state was the goal of the spiritual life. The Buddha, of course, rejected this idea.

Beyond infinite consciousness, there's just the perception of infinite nothingness. And beyond that, not even that perception is fully there—we call this neither perception nor non-perception. Finally, when that last bit of perception goes completely, we call it the cessation of perception and feeling. That experience is the most profound of all meditation states. It is essentially the experience of Nibbāna in this life, differentiated only because it is temporary. The tradition states that if you are not an anāgāmī or an arahant before entering it, the power of insight upon emerging from it is so great that you will become one.

The Verses of Homage and Grief

When the Buddha became fully extinguished, there was a great earthquake, awe-inspiring and hair-raising, and thunder cracked the sky.

Now we have a series of verses given in homage to the Buddha's Parinibbāna, each spoken by a person of significance, reflecting their nature and character.

First comes Brahma Sahampati^[6]:

"All creatures in this world must lay down this bag of bones. For even a teacher such as this, unrivaled in the world, the realized one attained to power, the Buddha became fully extinguished."

Brahma Sahampati is emphasizing the splendor of the Buddha within the scope of the world, making a powerful generalization. This verse carries particular potency coming from Brahma himself—if anyone is going to live forever, surely it's Brahma. He is confirming that even he is still subject to the laws of impermanence.

Next, we have Sakka^[7], the Lord of Gods:

"All conditions are impermanent, their nature is to rise and fall. Having arisen they cease, their stilling is true bliss."

Sakka is repeating a verse found elsewhere that the Buddha already spoke. This reflects his nature as a stream-enterer, focusing on the insight into impermanence and the rise and fall of phenomena.

Next, we have Venerable Anuruddha, who was renowned for his meditative prowess, specifically mindfulness of breathing:

"There was no more breathing for the poised one of steady heart, imperturbable, committed to peace. The sage has done his time. He put up with painful feelings without flinching. The liberation of his heart was like the extinguishing of a lamp."

Finally, Ānanda's verse is very personal and distinctive:

"Then there was terror, then they had goosebumps when the Buddha, endowed with all fine qualities, became fully extinguished."

Ānanda is responding to the distress experienced within the Buddhist community. We see the text highlight a profound contrast: those who are not free of desire were falling down like their feet were chopped off, rolling back and forth, lamenting, "Too soon has the Blessed One become extinguished! Too soon the Holy One has become fully extinguished! Too soon the Eye of the World has vanished!"

For those who are free of desire, they were mindful and aware, thinking, "Conditions are impermanent. How could it possibly be otherwise?"

The suttas often present these two poles. On one hand, complete equanimity; on the other, people literally falling on the ground wailing. Most of us, when faced with the death of someone we love, fall somewhere in between those two poles, responding in irrational and unpredictable ways. The sutta holds these two poles and gives space for the whole Buddhist community, acknowledging that we all have a place there. It also gives us a set of values to aspire to.

The Mallas of Kusinārā

Venerable Anuruddha and Ānanda spent the rest of the night talking about Dhamma. What an interesting little insert! I wonder what they were talking about. It would have been nice if somebody had put the tape recorder on.

In the morning, Ānanda entered Kusinārā with a companion. The Mallas of Kusinārā were sitting together at the meeting hall, still engaged in the same business from the previous night. This is a wonderful example for all of us the next time we're stuck in a Zoom meeting that seems to go on forever!

Ānanda went up to them and announced, "Vaseṭṭhas^[8], the Buddha has become fully extinguished. Please come at your convenience."

When they heard what Ānanda had to say, the Mallas, their sons, daughters, and wives became distraught, saddened, and grief-stricken. The Mallas ordered their men to collect fragrances, garlands, and all the musical instruments in Kusinārā. Taking 500 pairs of garments, they went to the Mallas' Sāl Grove at Upavattana.

They spent the day honoring, respecting, revering, and venerating the Buddha's corpse with dance, song, music, garlands, and fragrances. They made awnings and set up pavilions. What a party! They went all out, getting together every instrument in the city to have the most outrageous rave recorded in the entire history of the Pali Canon. And good on them, I say. Live it up! Life is short, and you've got an excuse to both party and make merit at the same time.

The Theravada tradition often has a reputation for being a bit dour or looking down on entertainment, but we must remember that those rules are for monastics. For laypeople, there's always been a highly celebratory aspect to Buddhist practice.

After they partied all night, they thought, "Oh, it's too late to cremate the Buddha's corpse today. Let's do it tomorrow." This is very relatable for anyone who's partied a bit too hard! They did the same thing the next day, the third, fourth, all the way up to the seventh day.

The Cremation

Finally, they decided to carry the corpse to the south of the town and cremate it. Eight of the leading Mallas, bathed and dressed in unworn clothes, tried to lift the corpse but were unable to do so. They asked Venerable Anuruddha for the reason.

Anuruddha replied, "You have one plan, but the deities have a different one. You plan to carry the Buddha's corpse to the south. The deities plan to carry it to the north, enter the town by the northern gate, carry it through the center of the town, leave by the eastern gate, and cremate it at the Mallas' shrine named Makutabandhana (Coronation)."

Directions always have symbolic meaning in Indian rituals. At that time, the whole of Kusinārā was covered knee-deep with the flowers of the flame tree. The deities and the Mallas carried the corpse as directed to the coronation shrine. They prepared the body exactly as the Buddha had instructed: wrapped in unworn cotton and cloth, placed in an iron case filled with oil, and set upon a funeral pyre of fragrant substances.

Mahākassapa was traveling on the road from Pāvā to Kusinārā with a large Sangha of about 500 mendicants. He had learned of the Buddha's passing from an Ājīvaka^[9] ascetic who was carrying a flame tree flower from Kusinārā. When the monks heard the news, those who were not free from desire grieved and lamented.

But a man named Subhadda, who had ordained late in life, said to the mendicants: "Enough, reverends, do not grieve or lament! We are well rid of this great ascetic. We were oppressed by him saying, 'This is allowable for you, this is not allowable for you.' Well, now we can do what we want and not do what we don't want!"

Subhadda certainly knew how to seize the moment!

Meanwhile, four of the leading Mallas tried to light the Buddha's funeral pyre, but it would not light. Venerable Anuruddha explained that it would not light until Mahākassapa arrived to pay respects. When Mahākassapa came, he arranged his robe over one shoulder, reverently circled the pyre three times keeping it to his right, and bowed with his head at the Buddha's feet. The 500 mendicants did likewise. Then, the funeral pyre burst into flames all by itself.

When the Buddha's corpse was cremated, no ash or soot was found from the outer or inner skin, flesh, sinews, or synovial fluid; only the relics remained. When the pyre was consumed, it was extinguished by a stream of water that appeared in the sky, water dripping from the Sāl trees, and by the Mallas' fragrant water.

The Distribution of the Relics

The Mallas made a cage of spears for the Buddha's relics in their meeting hall, surrounded it with a buttress of bows, and for seven days, they venerated them with dance, song, and music.

This is the narrative juncture where a new, massive plot of drama begins. What is the Sangha going to do without the Buddha to tell them what to do? Subhadda represented the voices of laxism—those who wanted to abandon the rules. Mahākassapa's response was to call the First Council, deciding that the Sangha would voluntarily keep the rules, not because they were forced to, but because they chose to live that way.

The next vital development for the lay community was the preservation and distribution of relics. The idea of relics is hardly mentioned in early Buddhism until this portion of the sutta, which was largely composed at a later date. The lay community wanted to maintain a connection to the Buddha through the physical presence of his relics.

King Ajātasattu of Magadha heard the Buddha had passed and sent an envoy: "The Buddha was an aristocrat, and so am I. I too deserve a share of the Buddha's relics. I will build a monument for them and conduct a memorial service." This is quite bold considering he had just recently been threatening to invade his neighbors!

The Licchavis also asked for a share, as did the Bulis of Allakappa, the Koliyas of Rāmagāma, a brahmin of Veṭhadīpa, and the Mallas of Pāvā.

The Mallas of Kusinārā refused, saying, "The Buddha became fully extinguished in our village district. We will not give away a share of his relics."

Things were looking problematic. Tensions were already heightened with the threat of war looming. Then Dona the brahmin stepped in:

"Hear, sirs, a single word from me. Our Buddha's teaching was acceptance. It would not be good to fight over a share of the supreme person's relics. Let us make eight portions, good sirs. Rejoicing in unity and harmony, let there be monuments far and wide, so many folk may gain faith in the clear-eyed one."

They agreed and asked Dona to divide the relics fairly. He divided them into eight portions and asked for the urn itself to build a monument. When the Moriyas of Pipphalivana arrived late, they were told the relics were gone, so they took the embers from the funeral pyre.

Thus, there were eight monuments for the relics, a ninth for the urn, and a tenth for the embers.

The sutta concludes with later verses (added during the Councils, and some as late as when the texts reached Sri Lanka) mentioning a tooth relic venerated by the gods, another in Gandhara, one in Kalinga, and one by a Dragon King. These additions show how the idea of relics gathered momentum and became a defining feature of Buddhist devotional practice.

While you might ask if the Buddha explicitly taught us to worship relics (the answer is no, he taught us to meditate and practice the Eightfold Path), we shouldn't be too swift to judge. Enshrining relics in a stupa created a lasting physical presence of the Buddha. That sense of connection has undoubtedly worked to maintain the Dhamma for millennia. It is a purely emotional connection, but that doesn't make it any less powerful or meaningful.

Q&A

Question: In California, euthanasia is legal. This brings up the question of whether the Buddha or Mahāpajāpatī intentionally chose the exact time to pass away, and how that relates to this topic.

Bhante Sujato: In Australia, there was a similar movement championed by Philip Nitschke, who happened to be a Buddhist. Because of that, Ajahn Brahm invited him to a Buddhist conference panel, which I moderated. What really came across to me from Dr. Nitschke was his deep compassion and his desire to alleviate suffering. It's a complex area without cut-and-dry answers.

Regarding the Buddha, the narrative holds a deliberate ambiguity. He could have prolonged his life (an argument against artificial prolongation), but he also took his medicine and looked after himself. Ultimately, I think we have to bear in mind the Golden Rule. I'm yet to meet a person who says, "Please keep my heart beating as long as possible no matter what my quality of life is." Yet, when making that decision for others, we tend to act differently.

Question: In Tibetan Buddhism, there is a practice called Tukdam^[10], where an advanced practitioner enters a deep meditative state at death. Their heart and breath stop, but there are no signs of decay. We've seen this with meditators here in the Bay Area. They say the body shouldn't be disturbed, but legally, authorities want the body moved quickly.

Bhante Sujato: You see even in the Mahāparinibbāna Sutta that Anuruddha and Ānanda were unclear about exactly when the Buddha had passed. So yes, mistakes can definitely be made.

Ajahn Brahm used to tell a story about a man in Perth. He went into a very deep meditation at home. His wife knocked on the door to say lunch was ready, touched him, and he didn't move. She panicked and called an ambulance. The paramedics rushed in, put him on a stretcher, and drove him through the streets with the sirens blazing. They brought him to the operating theater, and he was just completely out. He actually had out-of-body experiences during this time, floating down the hospital corridors! Eventually, an Indian doctor who had some understanding of meditation suggested, "Maybe he's just in a deep meditation. Just leave him." After a while, he came out of the meditation, went home, and his wife said, "Don't you ever do that again!" [Laughter]

It is a good argument for having multicultural staff in hospitals!

Question: Were there any bhikkhunis at the First Council? Do we have detailed historical records of the Councils?

Bhante Sujato: Unfortunately, no. I think the Buddha's intention was that recitations be done among the fourfold Sangha, but Mahākassapa organized it as a vinaya meeting, which restricts attendance to only bhikkhus (or only bhikkhunis). According to the historical records, there were no bhikkhunis present.

The Vinayas include the accounts of the first and second councils. There is a third council recorded in the Pali commentaries, and the most recent was the Sixth Council in Myanmar in the 1950s.

Question: What is the definition of a "wheel-turning monarch"?

Bhante Sujato: A wheel-turning monarch (Cakkavatti) is an ideal, mythological king. It's a Buddhist adaptation of the Vedic horse sacrifice, representing a ruler who establishes a peaceful realm from ocean to ocean, running it according to the Dhamma and principle, without violence or oppression. King Ashoka would be the closest historical example.

Question: Do any of the eight original relic monuments still exist?

Bhante Sujato: It's hard to say exactly because they get rebuilt over the years. King Ashoka apparently took the relics out and spread them further, so original monuments were demolished and rebuilt layer upon layer, like onions. However, some of the sites are still known, like in Kusinārā or the Ashoka pillar site in the land of the Vajjis, so we have a fairly good idea where some of the relics still are.