PRESENTED TO THE BUDDHA CENTER ON SUNDAY, MARCH 29, 2015 AND AGAIN TO THE NEW BUDDHA CENTRE ON SATURDAY, DECEMBER 21, 2024 (REVISED).

The Discourse to Payasi
Digha Nikaya 23

Country: Kosala
Locale: Simsapa Forest, Setavya
Speakers: Payasi, Kumara-Kassapa
Date of Composition: 3rd cent. BCE

This discourse is one of only two discourses in the Digha Nikaya where the Buddha is not present. The other is the Subha Sutta, in which Subha asks Ananda to summarize the things that the recently deceased Buddha praised. The Payasi Sutta records a sermon given by Kumara-Kassapa (‘Young Kassapa’), not to be confused with Mahakassapa, who would convene the First Buddhist Council. The Venerable Kassapa is the best preacher in the Buddhist order. That a discourse uttered completely independently of the Buddha is canonical provides an important insight into the question of what constitutes the Buddhist teaching, a question addressed in other discourses also. Clearly, the Buddhist teaching is not limited to the words of the historical Buddha. Therefore, the utterances of third parties can constitute an authentic, canonical tradition. Thus, the view that only the words of the historical Buddha constitute the true Buddhist teaching, and historicism itself, is a non-dharmic innovation, impossible in principle and misleading at best.

The discourse makes extensive use of parables. Jesus would popularize the use of spiritual parables, many of which are similar to the Buddhist parables. Here I focus more on the intellectual content of the discourse rather than on the stories, which are obvious. However, I will include some references to the stories.

Travelling through Kosala with many monastics, Kassapa came to be staying in the simsapa forest, north of a town called Setavya, described as a wealthy agricultural town given by King Pasenadi of Kosala to Prince Payasi. The prince is a napper, and when he naps during the afternoon on the roof of his palace, hunchbacks, dwarfs, young girls, and maidens attend him—an interesting glimpse of the life of a governor of a town in northeast India in the fifth century BCE.

In discourse 12, the main character, also the governor of a town, develops the “evil opinion” that unfettered selfishness is the highest good and that one should abandon altruism (clearly, an early incarnation of Ayn Rand!). Now in this discourse we have Prince Payasi developing the evil opinion that there are no other worlds, no divine beings, and no moral causality. In the northeast Indian civilization of the fifth century before the common era dissident views, skepticism, and even materialism were flourishing, somewhat contrary to our conventional notion of ancient India. Walshe notes that these views were similar to those of Ajita Kesakambali.

The people of Setavya of all classes go out the north gate to visit Kassapa because of his reputation as a great teacher. The prince gets wind of this, and tells the people to wait for him to join them, apparently with the intention of refuting the view that there are other worlds, divine beings, and moral causes. He describes the people of Setavya as foolish and inexperienced. Therefore, Prince Payasi and the people of Setavya go together to see Kassapa.

The prince tells Kassapa that there are no other worlds, no divine beings, and no moral causation. Kassapa opines that he has never heard such a view before—an unlikely assertion—so he asks the prince to explain himself.

First, Kassapa asks the prince whether the sun and the moon are in this world or another, and whether they are divine beings (“spontaneously born”) or humans. I have mentioned that ‘divine being’ (deva) literally means ‘shining being.’ Tamilcube also has ‘sky,’ ‘rain cloud,’ ‘celestial being,’ so according to this view divine beings clearly include what we would call “inanimate” phenomena. Elsewhere the Buddha refers to the sun and moon as divine beings too. The Prince agrees that the sun and the moon are in another world and that they are divine beings, not people. Although this is not the only argument that Kassapa makes, it is the first one.

Clearly, this question and the answer imply a way of thinking that is difficult for us to grasp. It also clarifies the early Buddhist conception of divine beings. Although divine beings occupy higher worlds than what we inhabit, there is an area of overlap where divine beings and humans interact. The conception of divine beings themselves clearly includes the sun and the moon in that category, as the etymology also implies. Therefore, higher worlds may presumably include regions of the universe outside of the earth or even the solar system, including other universes, galaxies, stars, solar systems, planets, etc. At the same time, most descriptions of divine beings in the Pali Canon clearly imply that divine beings are sentient beings with individuality, somewhat different from our conception of the sun, moon, and stars. If mind or sentience is the underlying reality of everything, then everything is potentially sentient, even natural phenomena, much as in the spiritual conception of many indigenous peoples; the Japanese also have a tradition like this.

However, I do not believe that we need to accept the sentience of stars in order to grasp Kassapa’s argument. His point is that sun and moon occupy a “higher world”; thus, Payasi is incorrect in his fundamental assertion that there is no other world. In other words, the world is hierarchical. Although that would appear to be the immediate implication, the fact that it does not convince the prince suggests that Kassapa is only making an analogy. Otherwise, it would be absurd for the prince to reject his argument. We look up into the sky and we see that there is a world above and a world below, and that stars populate the world above in the same way, if we see that the world is like this. However, the prince does not agree. Consequently, Kassapa challenges the prince to give reasons for his denial. We see here a kind of formal dialectical structure playing itself out, similar perhaps to the pedagogical dialectics of the Tibetans.

In reply the prince tells Kassapa of an experiment in which he asked friends and family members, both good and bad, to come and tell him whether there are other worlds, divine beings, and moral causes, after they die and are reborn in hellish or heavenly worlds. When no one appears to him, he infers that there is no such place.

Kassapa’s somewhat mischievous reply points out that it might not be physically possible for the deceased to return to the earth from the hellish worlds, any more than it would be possible for a thief to delay their execution. Kassapa’s reply may imply that he believes that actual wardens guard the hellish worlds, or it may merely be a manner of speech. In any case, the obvious answer to the prince’s argument is that he cannot know that the conditions of rebirth in those worlds allow for such a return. Thus, the absence of a return may simply mean that it is not possible, not that such worlds do not exist. Materialists make similar arguments today (the same argument is made against the post-mortem survival of the human personality), for example.

With respect to the good people with whom the prince has made this pact, Kassapa suggests that the earth and humans are so repulsive to spiritual beings that no one returns to the earth to fulfil their pledge: “human beings are unclean, evil-smelling, horrible, revolting and generally considered to be so by the devas” (elsewhere, however, it is said that a human birth is desirable to the divine beings). The prince rejects this argument too.

The next argument is similar to the former one, except that it specifies being reborn as a companion of the Thirty-Three Gods specifically. Kassapa makes the fascinating response that this too is impossible because the rate at which time passes for the companions of the Thirty-Three Gods is faster than it is for people, so that even after a very short time in the world of the Thirty-Three the prince himself will die.

Kassapa even gives the ratio of time difference. One human century is equivalent to twenty-four hours in the realm of the Thirty-Three. That is a ratio of 1:36,525, the number of days in a century. This means that the companions of the Thirty-Three “vibrate” at 0.9999999996252086 of the speed of light. This effect is the Lorenz contraction. It is very interesting that the crazy idea that the rate at which time passes can vary according to speed would reappear in 1905, 2,300 years after the Buddha’s passing, when a 26-year old patent clerk named Albert Einstein proposed the theory of relativity. Scientists have measured and observed time dilation. Intense gravity wells create a similar effect. The divine beings are luminous energy beings. Consequently, the faster they move the more slowly time will pass for them in terms of the human frame of reference: hence the longevity of divine beings referred to in the discourses. Time dilation (“lost time”) is also a property of the UFO phenomenon and a characteristic of the hypnotic state as well.

Kassapa points out that being unable to perceive a thing is no proof of its non-existence, any more than being blind proves that light and colour do not exist. This does not prove that they exist either, so Kassapa recurs to his first argument, stating that because there are higher, luminous beings such as the sun and moon, therefore such beings exist.

Furthermore, Kassapa tells the prince that the physical eye cannot see other worlds, but the “divine” eye sees them, which the ascetics and Brahmans of the forest possess. This eye, when “purified,” vastly exceeds the powers of human sight and includes other worlds and divine beings. Therefore, one can experience it.

The prince is incorrigible. He rejects this argument too. However, the prince replies that if the higher worlds are so great, and the ascetics and Brahmans know this, then why do they not all kill themselves? That they do not do so shows that they do not have this knowledge.

However, Kassapa replies that they do not kill themselves because of “hidden dangers,” presumably associated with the consequences of moral causality. He compares killing oneself to a pregnant woman cutting open her belly to discover the gender of her child: “…the lady took a knife and, going into an inner room, cut open her belly, thinking: ‘If only I could find out whether it is a boy or a girl.’ And thus she destroyed herself and the living embryo, and the wealth as well, just as fools do who seek their inheritance unwisely, heedless of hidden danger.”

The implication is that such an act would undermine the attainment sought. Instead, the ascetics and Brahmans wait for that to ripen which will ripen in its own time, creating ever-greater merit for the welfare of others, out of compassion for the world. The description is nearly that of a bodhisattva:

Those ascetics and Brahmins who observe morality and are well-conducted do not seek to hasten the ripening of that which is not yet ripe, but rather they wisely await its ripening. Their life is profitable to those ascetics and Brahmins, for the longer such moral and well-conducted ascetics and Brahmins remain alive, the greater the merit that they create, They practise for the welfare of the many, for the happiness of the many, out of compassion for the world, for the profit and benefit of devas and humans.

In another discourse, some of the monastics kill themselves while the Buddha is on retreat, an action that the Buddha condemns on his return.

The prince is still not convinced. Kassapa yields to the prince and asks him to present another reason. Payasi’s rather gruesome example amounts to his not seeing the soul leave the body at death, even when the deceased dies in a sealed container. The soul should remain in the container with the body, but when opened, one sees nothing. Kassapa’s response implies a shared belief that the soul leaves the body during dreaming sleep. Yet, Kassapa points out, no one sees his soul entering or leaving his body at this time, so why would they see anything at death?

The prince, still not convinced, gives another reason for his disbelief. The prince says that a live person is lighter, softer, and more flexible, whereas a dead person is heavier, stiffer, and more inflexible. He contests that one can prove this by weighing the person before and after their death. Kassapa argues that the prince’s own example proves the opposite: that the fact that the lightness, softness, and flexibility have gone out of the body shows that something has left the body, just as an iron ball is lighter, softer, and more flexible when it is hot, burning, and glowing. This is reminiscent of claims by some spiritualists and others that experiments have shown that the body loses a minute amount of weight at death. These claims are highly contested, however, even within the realm of parapsychology.

The prince is still not convinced. He cites another example, similar to the one he cited before, regarding seeing the soul emerging from a person half dead, even when they are beaten in various ways. Moreover, though they have senses they do not see other worlds (presumably, they are still able to speak and are cooperative). However, Kassapa argues from the same example that in the absence of life, heat, and consciousness (which he compares to a person, effort, and wind respectively) the body is not animated, thus proving the reality of another world.

Once again, the prince is not convinced, and produces another argument. This argument is nearly identical to the former one. In this case, instead of being a half-dead person, they progressively strip away a person’s body parts, starting with their skin, obviously killing them in the process, yet find no soul.

Finally, Kassapa, frustrated perhaps, tells the prince that his way of conceptualizing other worlds is faulty, which is why all his arguments come to naught. The prince is clearly a materialist, because his arguments only work if matter is the only reality. Even in that context, the argument has little merit since material things pass through other material things all the time (light through air, a gas through a membrane, fish through a net, etc.). All matter exhibits degrees of “subtlety.”

The prince now seems to recognize the legitimacy of Kassapa’s viewpoint, but at the same time he refuses to give up his opinion because giving it up is likely to damage his reputation. At this point, the argument changes fundamentally. Kassapa turns his attention to Payasi himself, and tells him a series of stories designed to discredit him personally, including the story of a foolish caravan leader who when an untrustworthy stranger says there are plenty of resources ahead, discards his supplies and perishes.

After some further exhortations by Kassapa, the prince finally admits that all he was really looking for from Kassapa was a good argument. At least, this seems to be Walshe’s interpretation. In summary, the prince’s argument amounts to little more than the assertion that because he does not know of any evidence of other worlds, he disbelieves in them, whereas Kassapa’s best argument is that they are known and seen by those who know where to look and how. The prince converts and takes refuge as a lay follower of the Buddha.

The Great Sacrifice

The question of the existence of other worlds, divine beings, and moral causality resolved, the prince goes on to ask Kassapa for instructions on how to prepare a great sacrifice, presumably to honour his conversion to the teaching. Kassapa tells Payasi that animal sacrifice has no merit if the participants follow the wrong path, an “anti-path” in effect. In a strange anticipation of Jesus’ parable of the seeds, Kassapa tells the story of a farmer who sows bad seeds in a bad place. On the other hand, a sacrifice where one kills nothing and the participants follow the Noble Eightfold Path has great merit. The text does not explain what sort of sacrifice, but it seems Kassapa is referring to the order, the members of which conduct the great sacrifice of collective renunciation.

Subsequently, the prince established a charity, but grudgingly, not with his own hands, and without proper concern. When Uttara, his Brahman administrator, who distributes the prince’s largesse, grumbles about the quality of the merchandise, Payasi tells him that he expects a reward for his generosity and tells Uttara to do it if he wants to. Because of his stinginess, Payasi is born in the world of the Four Great Kings, in the empty Serisaka dimension. Uttara was born in the higher realm of the Thirty-Three. One knows this story because the Ven. Gavampati, one of the Buddha’s early converts, napped in the lower heavens (an allusion to lucid dreaming?). He encounters Payasi in the empty Serisaka dimension, and Payasi tells him the story. The discourse ends with the pious advice to be ungrudging in generosity in order to obtain a good rebirth.

Assessing the Arguments

Payasi’s arguments that other worlds, divine beings, and moral causes do not exist boil down to the argument that since he does not see physical evidence of such things, including a soul leaving the body at death, they do not exist.

These arguments are not unlike similar arguments that some make today, based on the view that only matter is real. On the other hand, Cassava argues that one observes other worlds, divine beings, and causality in the heavens, and ascetics and Brahmans perceive them with the Divine Eye. Therefore, such things do exist. In fact, in modern terms, there is good circumstantial evidence for ghosts, “divine beings” (UFOs), and rebirth, despite the disregard of those who choose to ignore the evidence.

Notes

1. The reference to the “living embryo” suggests the tathagatagarbha (lit. “buddha embyro”) , in which case Kassapa’s parable is an allegory of the spiritual consequences of trying to achieve transcendence through suicide. Similarly, the third rule that entails defeat in the Vinaya is killing: ” Should any bhikkhu intentionally deprive a human being of life, or search for an assassin for him, or praise the advantages of death, or incite him to die (saying,): ‘My good man, what use is this evil, miserable life to you? Death would be better for you than life,’ or with such an idea in mind, such a purpose in mind, should in various ways praise the advantages of death or incite him to die, he also is defeated and no longer in affiliation.” Killing also violates the First Precept. Therefore, the idolatry of “samadhi suicide,” especially by the Theravadins (see, eg., Tim Ward, What the Buddha Never Taught (Toronto: Somerville House, 1990), who actually establish mummies in their temples as objects of worship, or the practice of self-immolation, also alluded to in the Pali Canon, are a-dharmic and lead to spiritual self-annihilation, if we take Kassapa’s parable literally: “you, Prince, will come to ruin and destruction if you foolishly and unwisely seek the other world in the wrong way.” According to the Vinaya, anyone who engages in these practices, or advocates them, is automatically excommunicated.

2. The sutta also suggests that beheading was practised as a form of capital punishment during the time of the Buddha. Beheading is also mentioned in sutta 26.