The Connected Discourses of the Buddha Page 5

  The main cause of suffering, according to the Buddha, is craving (taṇhā), also known as desire and lust (chanda-rāga). In SN the task of removing craving serves as a paradigm which generates another set of templates, arrived at by splitting and then recombining the terms of the compound: abandon desire, abandon lust, abandon desire and lust. These are each connected separately to whatever is impermanent, whatever is suffering, and whatever is nonself (intersecting with the three characteristics paradigm), thereby giving rise to nine templates. These are then extended to the aggregates and to the internal and external sense bases, generating respectively nine and eighteen suttas (22:137–45; 35:168–85).

  Some templates must have emerged from the conversations into which the monks were drawn in their everyday lives, such as the one based on the question why the holy life is lived under the Blessed One (35:81, 152; 38:4; 45:5, 41–48). Part V, on the groups pertaining to the path, employs still new templates, though without a single dominant paradigm. Many of the templates occur in the repetition series, which are elaborated in full only in the Maggasaṃyutta and thereafter abbreviated in mnemonic verses. But more substantive templates generate suttas in the bodies of these saṃyuttas, which will be discussed at greater length in the introduction to Part V.

  If we closely inspect the concordance of template parallels, we would notice that certain templates are not employed to generate suttas in domains where they seem perfectly applicable. Thus, as noted above, we do not find the “ascetics and brahmins” templates applied to the six sense bases, or the “noble and emancipating” template applied to the five spiritual faculties, or the “seven fruits and benefits” template applied to the four establishments of mindfulness. This raises the intriguing question whether these omissions were made by deliberate design, or because the applications were overlooked, or because suttas got lost in the process of oral transmission. To arrive at cogent hypotheses concerning this question we would have to compare the Pāli recension of SN with the Chinese translation of the Saṃyuktāgama, which would no doubt be a major undertaking requiring a rare combination of skills.

  The second distinctive editorial technique of SN is what I call “auditor-setting variation.” This refers to suttas that are identical (or nearly identical) in content but differ in regard to the person to whom they are addressed, or in the protagonist involved (in a sutta involving a “plot”), or in the circumstances under which they are spoken. The most notable example of this device is the sutta on how a bhikkhu attains or fails to attain Nibbāna, which occurs seven times (at 35:118, 119, 124, 125, 126, 128, 131), in exactly the same words, but addressed to different auditors, including the deva-king Sakka and the gandhabba Pañcasikha. As the Buddha must have reiterated many suttas to different inquirers, the question arises why this one was selected for such special treatment. Could it have been a way of driving home, to the monks, what they must do to win the goal of the holy life? Or were there more mundane motives behind the redundancy, such as a desire to placate the families of important lay supporters?

  Under this category fall several instances where a sutta is spoken by the Buddha a first time in response to a question from Ānanda, a second time to Ānanda on his own initiative, a third time in response to a question from a group of bhikkhus, and a fourth time to a group of bhikkhus on his own initiative (e.g., 36:15–18; 54:13–16). Again, the Rādhasaṃyutta includes two vaggas of twelve suttas each identical in all respects except that in the first (23:23–34) Rādha asks for a teaching while in the second (23:35–46) the Buddha takes the initiative in speaking.

  A third literary embellishment, not quite identical with auditor-setting variation, is the inclusion of chains of suttas that ring the permutations on a simple idea by using different phrasing. Thus the Diṭṭhisaṃyutta (24) contains four “trips” (gamana) on speculative views differing only in the framework within which the exposition of views is encased (partial exception being made of the first trip, which for some unclear reason lacks a series of views included in the other three). In the Vacchagottasaṃyutta (33), the wanderer so named approaches the Buddha five times with the same question, about the reason why the ten speculative views arise in the world, and each time the answer is given as not knowing one of the five aggregates; each question and answer makes a separate sutta. Not content with this much, the compilers of the canon seem to have felt obliged to make it clear that each answer could have been formulated using a different synonym for lack of knowledge. Thus the saṃyutta is built up out of ten variants on the first pentad, identical in all respects except for the change of synonyms. The Jhānasaṃyutta (34) exhibits still another literary flourish, the “wheel” (cakka) of permutations, whereby a chain of terms is taken in pairwise combinations, exhausting all possibilities.

  TECHNICAL NOTES

  Here I will discuss a few technical matters pertaining to the translation, emphasizing particularly why my renderings here sometimes differ from those used in MLDB. For the sake of precision, I usually refer to SN by volume, page, and line numbers of Ee (Ee1 in references to Part I), and use the saṃyutta and sutta numbers only when the whole sutta is relevant.9

  THE REPETITIONS

  Readers of the Pāli suttas are invariably irked, and sometimes dismayed, by the ponderous repetitiveness of the texts. In SN these are more blatant than in the other Nikāyas, even to the extent that in whole vaggas the suttas might differ from one another only in regard to a single word or phrase. Besides this type of reiterative pattern, we also come across the liberal use of stock definitions, stereotyped formulas, and pericopes typical of the Nikāyas as a whole, stemming from the period when they were transmitted orally. It is difficult to tell how much of the repetition stems from the Buddha himself, who as an itinerant teacher must have often repeated whole discourses with only slight variations, and how much is due to zealous redactors eager to ring every conceivable change on a single idea and preserve it for posterity. It is hard, however, not to suspect that the latter have had a heavy hand in the redaction of the texts.

  To avoid excessive repetitiveness in the translation I have had to make ample use of elisions. In this respect I follow the printed editions of the Pāli texts, which are also highly abridged, but a translation intended for a contemporary reader requires still more compression if it is not to risk earning the reader’s wrath. On the other hand, I have been keen to see that nothing essential to the original text, including the flavour, has been lost due to the abridgement. The ideals of considerateness to the reader and fidelity to the text sometimes make contrary demands on a translator.

  The treatment of repetition patterns in which the same utterance is made regarding a set of items is a perpetual problem in translating Pāli suttas. When translating a sutta about the five aggregates, for example, one is tempted to forgo the enumeration of the individual aggregates and instead turn the sutta into a general statement about the aggregates as a class. To my mind, such a method veers away from proper translation towards paraphrase and thus risks losing too much of the original text. My general policy has been to translate the full utterance in relation to the first and last members of the set, and merely to enumerate the intermediate members separated by ellipsis points. Thus, in a sutta about the five aggregates, I render the statement in full only for form and consciousness, and in between have “feeling … perception … volitional formations …,” implying thereby that the full statement likewise applies to them. With the bigger sets I often omit the intermediate terms, rendering the statement only for the first and last members.

  This approach has required the frequent use of ellipsis points, a practice which also invites criticism. Several consulting readers thought I might improve the aesthetic appearance of the page (especially in Part IV) by rephrasing repetitive passages in a way that would eliminate the need for ellipsis points. I accepted this suggestion in regard to repetitions in the narrative framework, but in texts of straight doctrinal exposition I adhered to my original practice
. The reason is that I think it an important responsibility of the translator, when translating passages of doctrinal significance, to show exactly where text is being elided, and for this ellipsis points remain the best tool at hand.

  DHAMMA

  Rather than embark on the quest for a single English rendering that can capture all the meanings of this polyvalent Pāli word, I have settled for the more pragmatic approach of using different renderings intended to match its different applications.10 When the word denotes the Buddha’s teaching, I have retained the Pāli “Dhamma,” for even “teaching” fails to convey the idea that what the Buddha teaches as the Dhamma is not a system of thought original to himself but the fundamental principles of truth, virtue, and liberation discovered and taught by all Buddhas throughout beginningless time. This is the Dhamma venerated by the Buddhas of the past, present, and future, which they look upon as their own standard and guide (see 6:2). which they look upon as their own standard and guide (see 6:2). From an internal “emic” point of view, the Dhamma is thus more than a particular religious teaching that has appeared at a particular epoch of human history. It is the timeless law in which reality, truth, and righteousness are merged in a seamless unity, and also the conceptual expression of this law in a body of spiritual and ethical teachings leading to the highest goal, Nibbāna, which is likewise comprised by the Dhamma. The word “Dhamma,” however, can also signify teachings that deviate from the truth, including the erroneous doctrines of the “outside” teachers. Thus the Jain teacher Nigaṇṭha Nātaputta is said to “teach the Dhamma to his disciples” (IV 317,25)—certainly not the Buddha’s teaching.

  In one passage I render Dhamma as “righteousness” (at the Se counterpart of IV 303,21). This is in the epithet dhammarājā used for a universal monarch, where “king of righteousness” fits better than “king of the Dhamma,” the significance the epithet has relative to the Buddha. The corresponding adjective, dhammika, is “righteous.”

  When dhamma occurs as a general term of reference, often in the plural, I usually render it “things.” As such, the word does not bear the narrow sense of concrete material objects but includes literally every-thing, such as qualities, practices, acts, and relationships. Thus the four factors of stream-entry are, as dhammas, things; so too are the twelve factors of dependent origination, the five aggregates, the six pairs of sense bases, and the diverse practices leading to enlightenment. Used in the plural, dhammā can also mean teachings, and so I render it at III 225,9 foll., though the exact sense there is ambiguous and the word might also mean the things that are taught rather than the teachings about them. One expression occurring in two suttas (II 58,3–4; IV 328,21–22), iminā dhammena, can be most satisfactorily rendered “by this principle,” though here dhamma points to the Dhamma as the essential teaching. Again, at I 167,9 (= I 168,25, 173,10), we have dhamme sati, “when this principle exists,” a rule of conduct followed by the Buddha.

  When plural dhammā acquires a more technical nuance, in contexts with ontological overtones, I render it “phenomena.” For instance, paṭicca-samuppannā dhammā are “dependently arisen phenomena” (II 26,7), and each of the five aggregates is loke lokadhamma, “a world-phenomenon in the world” that the Buddha has penetrated and taught (III 139,22 foll.). When the word takes on a more psychological hue, I render it “states.” The most common example of this is in the familiar pair kusalā dhammā, wholesome states, and akusalā dhammā, unwholesome states (found, for example, in the formula for right effort; V 9,17–27). The enlightenment factor dhammavicaya-sambojjhaṅga is said to be nurtured by giving careful attention to pairs of contrasting mental states (among them wholesome and unwholesome states; V 66,18), and thus I render it “the enlightenment factor of discrimination of states.” But since the dhammas investigated can also be the four objective supports of mindfulness (V 331–32), dhammavicaya might have been translated “discrimination of phenomena.” Sometimes dhammā signifies traits of character more persistent than transient mental states; in this context I render it “qualities,” e.g., Mahākassapa complains that the bhikkhus “have qualities which make them difficult to admonish” (II 204,3–4).

  As a sense base and element, the dhammāyatana and dhammadhātu are the counterparts of the manāyatana, the mind base, and the manoviññāṇadhātu, the mind-consciousness element. The appropriate sense here would seem to be that of ideas and mental images, but the commentaries understand dhammas in these contexts to include not only the objects of consciousness but its concomitants as well. Thus I translate it “mental phenomena,” which is wide enough to encompass both these aspects of experience. As the fourth satipaṭṭhāna, objective base of mindfulness, dhammā is often translated “mind-objects.” So I rendered it in MLDB, but in retrospect this seems to me unsatisfactory. Of course, any existent can become an object of mind, and thus all dhammas in the fourth satipaṭṭhāna are necessarily mind-objects; but the latter term puts the focus in the wrong place. I now understand dhammas to be phenomena in general, but phenomena arranged in accordance with the categories of the Dhamma, the teaching, in such a way as to lead to a realization of the essential Dhamma embodied in the Four Noble Truths.

  Finally, -dhamma as a suffix has the meaning “is subject to” or “has the nature of.” Thus all dependently arisen phenomena are “subject to destruction, vanishing, fading away, and cessation” (khayadhamma, vayadhamma, virāgadhamma, nirodhadhamma; II 26,9 foll.). The five aggregates are “of impermanent nature, of painful nature, of selfless nature” (aniccadhamma, dukkhadhamma, anattadhamma; III 195–96).

  SAṄKHĀRĀ

  In MLDB I had changed Ven. Ñāṇamoli’s experimental rendering of saṅkhārā as “determinations” back to his earlier choice, “formations.” Aware that this word has its own drawbacks, in preparing this translation I had experimented with several alternatives. The most attractive of these was “constructions,” but in the end I felt that this term too often led to obscurity. Hence, like the land-finding crow which always returns to the ship when land is not close by (see Vism 657; Ppn 21:65), I had to fall back on “formations,” which is colourless enough to take on the meaning being imparted by the context. Sometimes I prefixed this with the adjective “volitional” to bring out the meaning more clearly.

  Saṅkhārā is derived from the prefix saṃ (= con), “together,” and the verb karoti, “to make.” The noun straddles both sides of the active-passive divide. Thus saṅkhāras are both things which put together, construct, and compound other things, and the things that are put together, constructed, and compounded.

  In SN the word occurs in five major doctrinal contexts:

  (1) As the second factor in the formula of dependent origination, saṅkhāras are the kammically active volitions responsible, in conjunction with ignorance and craving, for generating rebirth and sustaining the forward movement of saṃsāra from one life to the next. Saṅkhārā is synonymous with kamma, to which it is etymologically related, both being derived from karoti. These saṅkhāras are distinguished as threefold by their channel of expression, as bodily, verbal, and mental (II 4,8–10, etc.); they are also divided by ethical quality into the meritorious, demeritorious, and imperturbable (II 82,9–13). To convey the relevant sense of saṅkhārā here I render the term “volitional formations.” The word might also have been translated “activities,” which makes explicit the connection with kamma, but this rendering would sever the connection with saṅkhārāin contexts other than dependent origination, which it seems desirable to preserve.

  (2) As the fourth of the five aggregates, saṅkhārā is defined as the six classes of volitions (cha cetanākāyā, III 60,25–28), that is, volition regarding the six types of sense objects. Hence again I render it volitional formations. But the saṅkhārakkhandha has a wider compass than the saṅkhārā of the dependent origination series, comprising all instances of volition and not only those that are kammically active. In the Abhidhamma Pit
̣aka and the commentaries the saṅkhārakkhandhafurther serves as an umbrella category for classifying all mental concomitants of consciousness apart from feeling and perception. It thus comes to include all wholesome, unwholesome, and variable mental factors mentioned but not formally classified among the aggregates in the Sutta Piṭaka.

  (3) In the widest sense, saṅkhārā comprises all conditioned things, everything arisen from a combination of conditions. In this sense all five aggregates, not just the fourth, are saṅkhāras (see III 132,22–27), as are all external objects and situations (II 191,11–17). The term here is taken to be of passive derivation—denoting what is conditioned, constructed, compounded—hence I render it simply “formations,” without the qualifying adjective. This notion of saṅkhārā serves as the cornerstone of a philosophical vision which sees the entire universe as constituted of conditioned phenomena. What is particularly emphasized about saṅkhāras in this sense is their impermanence. Recognition of their impermanence brings insight into the unreliable nature of all mundane felicity and inspires a sense of urgency directed towards liberation from saṃsāra (see 15:20; 22:96).