Saturday, October 11, 2008

The Buddhist Billionaire



Anathapindika: The Great Benefactor
Hellmuth Hecker (Access to Insight)

"Thus have I heard: One time the Blessed One was staying at Savatthi in the Jeta Grove, in Anathapindika's Monastery..." Numerous discourses of the Buddha begin with these words, and hence the name of that great lay devotee, Anathapindika is well known. His name means: "One who gives alms (pinda) to the unprotected (a-natha)" and is the honorific of the householder Sudatta of the city of Savatthi. Who was he? How did he meet the Buddha? What was his relationship to the teaching? The answers to these questions may be found in the many references to him which occur in the traditional texts.

1. How Anathapindika Became a Disciple
In the first year after Siddhattha Gautama's enlightenment, the Order (Sangha) in Rajagaha, the capital of the kingdom of Magadha, consisted then of only a few people who, after hearing the Four Noble Truths became enlightened beings. As Liberated Ones, they lived homeless in field and forest, on mountains, and in meadows. When a wealthy merchant, the brother-in-law of Anathapindika, became a faithful lay follower of the Buddha and saw how they lived, he suggested to them that they ask their teacher whether he would allow them to have permanent dwellings (Cv 1).

When the Buddha consented, the merchant at once set about to erect no fewer than sixty dwellings for the ascetics, explaining that he needed to gain merit. With the building of the first Buddhist monastery, the foundation for the spread of the Teaching began, for now there would be a training center for the Order in which to educate those who were not yet enlightened.

One day the billionaire Anathapindika, the richest merchant in Savatthi, was traveling on business in the neighboring state of Magadha and came to the city of Rajagaha. As usual, he first went to visit his brother-in-law, to whom he was bound by warm friendship. As he entered the house, he found to his astonishment that the household hardly noticed him. Previously he had been accustomed to his brother-in-law's full attention and to the other residents of the house receiving him gladly. But now he saw that they were busy, eagerly making elaborate preparations.

He asked his preoccupied brother-in-law what this meant: "A wedding? A major sacrifice? A visit from the king?" But the brother-in-law explained, "Tomorrow the Order of monastics with the Enlightened One are coming here, for I have invited them."

Anathapindika became attentive. "Did you say the 'Enlightened One'?" "Indeed," answered the brother-in-law, "tomorrow the Enlightened One is coming." And Anathapindika asked a second time and a third time, "Did you say the 'Enlightened One'?"

Then, breathing a deep sigh of relief, he said, "Even the sound alone of these words is indeed rare in this world — the 'Enlightened One' — can one really see him?" His brother-in-law answered that while today was not the time, tomorrow would be.

Moved by many kinds of thoughts and feelings, Anathapindika lay down to sleep. Yet he awoke three times that night, thinking it was already daytime, so strong was his anticipation of the next day's meeting. Finally he arose even before dawn and went out of the city to the monastery. In the darkness, however, fear overcame him, doubts arose within him, and all his worldly instincts told him to turn back.

But an inner-voice assured him that it would be best to continue on. And so through the rest of the night he walked resolutely on. After a while he saw in the misty dawn a figure walking silently to and fro, and Anathapindika stopped. Then the figure called to him in an indescribably harmonious voice: "Come, Sudatta!"

Anathapindika was startled at being addressed in this manner, for no one there knew him by his original name. He was only known as Anathapindika, and besides, he was unknown to the Buddha and had come unexpectedly. Now he was certain that he was in the presence of the Enlightened One. Overwhelmed by the gravity of the encounter, he fell at the feet of the Blessed One, and asked him in a stammering voice about his well-being.



With the answer to this conventional question, Anathapindika came a little closer to the supramundane reality, since the Enlightened One explained that the arahants ["enlightened ones"] were always well, for they were beyond all possibilities of suffering. And then the Enlightened One, leading him step by step, spoke to him of giving, of virtue, of the heavens, of the perils, vanity, and defiling nature of sensual pleasures, and of the benefits of renunciation.

When the Blessed One saw that Anathapindika the householder was ready in heart and mind, pliable, unobstructed, uplifted, and serene, he gave him the explanation of the Teaching which is unique to the Enlightened Ones: the noble truth of suffering, its cause, its cessation, and the path. With that, the pure eye of truth (dhamma-cakkhu) opened for Anathapindika: "Whatever has arisen, must also cease."

Anathapindika, who had understood the truth of the Teaching, had overcome all doubts and was without any wavering, certain in mind, and relying on no one else in the Buddha's Dispensation. He had achieved the attainment of stream-entry (sotapatti, the first of four stages of enlightenment).

He then invited the Blessed One for a meal the next day at the home of his brother-in-law, and the Buddha accepted. After the meal, Anathapindika asked the Enlightened One if he might build a monastery for the Order in his hometown of Savatthi. The Buddha answered: "The Enlightened Ones love peaceful places." "I understand, O Master, I understand," answered Anathapindika, overjoyed with the acceptance of his offer (SN 10.8 = Cv VI.4).

When Anathapindika returned to Savatthi, he encouraged the people along the route to receive the Buddha in a respectful manner. In this way he prepared the way along the Rajagaha-Savatthi road for the Buddha's journey. Once he arrived in Savatthi, he immediately searched for an appropriate location for the monastery. It had to be neither too close to the city, nor too far. The site should not be one that would be overrun by people in the daytime, nor should there be noise at night. It should be suitable for access by devoted visitors and also fit for those bent on seclusion. At last, in the chain of hills surrounding the city, he found a beautiful forest glade, ideal for the purpose. The area belonged to Prince Jeta, a son of King Pasenadi.

Anathapindika visited Prince Jeta in his palace and asked if the forest were for sale. The prince answered that the large tract of land was not for sale, not even for the appropriate price of eighteen million. "I will give you that much, right now," replied Anathapindika, but they were not able to come to terms and went to an arbitrator. The arbitrator ruled that the price should amount to as many gold pieces of the eighteen million as could be laid next to each other on the land. On this basis an agreement of sale was reached....

2. Anathapindika as a Wealthy Patron
Anathapindika continued to feel responsible for the monastery which he had established. He supplied the monks who lived there with all necessities. Each morning he sent rice gruel to the monastery, and each evening he supplied all the requirements of clothing, alms bowls, and medicines; all repairs and upkeep in the Jeta Grove were undertaken by his servants. Above all, several hundred monks came daily to his home — a seven story palace — to receive the noon meal. Every day during meal-times his home was filled with saffron-colored robes and the feeling of saintliness.

When King Pasenadi learned of Anathapindika's generosity, he wished to emulate him and so he supplied alms food for five hundred monks daily. One day, as he was on his way to talk with the monks, he learned from his servants that the monks were taking the food away with them and giving it to their supporters in the city, so that these friends could offer it to them. The king was mystified, for he had always provided very tasty food, and so he asked the Buddha the reason for the monks' behavior.

The Buddha explained to the king that in the palace the courtiers distributed the food without any inner feeling, just following orders as if they were cleaning out a barn or taking a thief to court. They lacked faith and had no love for the monks. Many of them even felt that the monks were idlers who had to be supported by the working population. When anything was given in that spirit, no one could feel good — even when receiving the most expensive meal. On the other hand, with the faithful householders in the city, like Anathapindika and Visakha, the monks were welcome and were regarded as spiritual friends who lived for the welfare and benefit of all beings.

A humble meal provided by a friend would be worth much more than the most sumptuous meal provided by someone who was indifferent or who did not give in the right spirit: "Even sour rice gruel becomes sweet when given by a friend." (J 465) The Buddha added a verse for the king to remember:

A dish may be coarse, savory or sweet,
It may be meager or it may abound,
Yet if offered with friendship and with love,
Then a delicious meal is always found.
(J 346)

Anathapindika and Visakha were not only the foremost donors in Savatthi (J 337, 346, 465), but their help was frequently solicited by the Buddha whenever something needed to be arranged with the lay community.

Yet even the wealth of Anathapindika was not inexhaustible. One day treasures worth eighteen million were swept away by a flash flood and washed into the sea. Moreover, he had loaned about the same amount of money to business friends who did not repay him. He was reluctant, however, to ask for the money. Since his fortune amounted to about five times eighteen million, and he had already spent three-fifths of this for the forest monastery, his money was now running out.

Anathapindika, once a multi-millionaire perhaps even a billionaire, had become poor. Nevertheless, he still continued to provide some food for the monastics, even though it was only a modest serving of thin rice gruel.

At that time a spirit lived in the seven-storied palace, above the gate-tower. Whenever the Buddha or a holy disciple entered the house, the spirit, following the laws of his realm, was obliged to step down from his place in order to honor the Great Ones. However, this was very inconvenient for the spirit. And so he tried to think of a way to keep the Holy Ones out of the house. He appeared to a servant and suggested the stopping of the alms giving. But the servant paid no attention to these urgings. Then the spirit tried to turn the son of the house against the monks, but this also failed. More>>

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