English
In the village, for the sake of the sick, they send to the monastery, saying, "Let them chant the protection!" it should be chanted. In the village, in royal houses and so forth, when sickness or trouble arises, having been invited, they are made to chant, the Āṭānāṭiya Sutta and so forth should be chanted. When sent saying, "Come and give the precepts to the sick, and teach the Dhamma. Or in the royal palace, or in the minister's house, come and give the precepts, and teach the Dhamma!" one should go and give the precepts, the Dhamma should be taught. When they invite, saying, "Come to attend the dead!" one should not go. However, to see a charnel ground, to see the impure, with the intention of gaining mindfulness of death as a meditation subject, it is permissible to go. Thus, one should act concerning protective chants. Regarding almsfood, however – to whom should untouched almsfood be given, and to whom should it not be given? First, it should be given to one's parents. Even if it is worth a kahāpaṇa, there is no destruction of a gift of faith. It should also be given to those who attend to parents, to a helper, and to a 'yellow leaf' (a novice/sick monk). There, it is permissible to give it to a 'yellow leaf' even by placing it in a plate. Apart from that, it is not permissible to give it to other householders, not even to parents (who are not one's own). For the consumption of a renunciant is like a shrine for householders. Furthermore, untouched almsfood should be given even to a violent robber or a ruler who happens to arrive. Why? For if it is not given, they touch it thinking, "They don't give!" and if it is given, they get angry thinking, "They give leftovers!" Being angry, they even take lives, and cause harm to the Dispensation. Here, the story of the rogue elephant who desired the kingdom should be told. Thus, one should act concerning almsfood. Regarding hospitality, however, to whom should it be shown, and to whom should it not be shown? Hospitality, indeed, should be shown to anyone who arrives at the monastery, whether a guest, or a poor person, or a thief, or a ruler. How? First, a guest who has exhausted his provisions, having arrived at the monastery... Seeing one who has arrived, water should be given. Foot-rubbing oil should be given. To one who comes at the proper time, gruel and rice. To one who comes at the wrong time, if there are raw rice grains, raw rice grains should be given. One who arrives at an improper time should not be told, "Go away!" A sleeping place should be given. All should be done without expecting anything in return. The thought, "People are givers of the four requisites; if such hospitality is shown, they will repeatedly be pleased and render assistance," should not be aroused. Even to thieves, that which belongs to the Sangha should be given. And for the sake of illustrating the benefits of hospitality, the story of the thief-naga, the story of the great naga king who went to Jambudīpa with his brother, the story of the four ministers in the kingdom of the father-king, the story of Abhaya the thief— many such stories are extensively told in the Great Commentary. Among these, this is one story's illustration: Indeed, in the island of Sri Lanka, a thief named Abhaya, with a retinue of five hundred, established a camp in one place and lived, having devastated an area of three yojanas all around. The residents of Anurādhapura did not cross the Kadamba River. Traffic on the Cetiyagiri road was cut off. Then one day, the thief went, saying, "I will plunder Cetiyagiri!" The monastery attendants, seeing him, reported it to the Elder Abhaya, the Long-Reciter. The Elder asked, "Are there ghee, treacle, and so on?" "There are, Venerable Sir," they replied. "Give them to the thieves. Are there raw rice grains?" "There are, Venerable Sir, raw rice grains, leafy vegetables, and milk products brought for the Sangha." "Prepare a meal and give it to the thieves," he said. The monastery attendants did so. The thieves, having eaten the meal, asked, "By whom was this hospitality shown?" "By our master, Elder Abhaya." The thieves went to the Elder, paid homage, and said: "We came intending to seize and take what belongs to the Sangha and to the cetiya. But we are pleased by your hospitality. From today onwards, may the righteous protection of the monastery be our responsibility. Let the townspeople come and give offerings, and the cetiya... "Let them eat!" From that time on, when citizens came to give alms, they would go out to meet them at the riverbank, protect them, and lead them to the monastery. In the monastery, they would also stand guard while the alms were being given. They would give the leftovers from the monks' meal to the robbers. When it was time to leave, the robbers would escort them to the riverbank and then return. Then one day, a grumbling conversation arose in the assembly of monks: "The elder, being powerful, gave the Sangha's property to the robbers." The elder called an assembly and said, "The robbers came intending to seize and take away the Sangha's regular income and the property belonging to the cetiya. So, to prevent them from taking it, I made such and such a reception for them. Gather all of that together and appraise it. For that reason, gather the unplundered goods together and appraise them." Then, all that the elder had given was not worth even one fine embroidered rug in the cetiya house. Then they said, "The reception made by the elder was well done; it cannot be blamed or criticized. There is no fault or misappropriation." Thus, a wise monk should consider that hospitality is of great benefit and act accordingly. 187. In the story of the finger-pricking: "uttanto" means exhausted. "Anassāsako" means without breath. In this story, however, the offense that should have occurred is not mentioned here, as it is "stated in the minor ones." In the immediately following story: "ottharitvā" means having trampled. He, being dragged by them, had fallen. One of them climbed onto his stomach and sat down. The other fifteen people also trampled him on the ground and killed him like a deer with immovable stones. However, since their intention was to work, not to kill; therefore, the pārājika offense is not mentioned. In the story of the spirit doctor: "killed the yakkha" means that those who recite spirit-lore, wishing to free someone possessed by a yakkha, invoke the yakkha and say, "Release him!" If it does not release him, they make an image of it with clay or on its back and cut off its hands, feet, and so on, whatever of its that is cut off, it is indeed cut off from the yakkha. When the head is cut off, the yakkha also dies. Thus, he also killed; therefore, it is called a grave offense. And not only a yakkha, even if one were to kill Sakka, the king of devas, that one also incurs a grave offense. In the story of the fierce yakkha: "Vāḷayakkha-vihāra" means a monastery where a fierce, cruel yakkha dwells. One who, not knowing such a monastery, sends someone merely to stay, is not guilty. One who sends with the intention of killing, if the other dies, incurs a pārājika; if the other does not die, incurs a grave offense. And just as with a fierce yakkha's monastery, so too, regarding sending someone to a fierce place where fierce lions, tigers, and other animals, or pythons, black snakes, and other long-bodied creatures dwell, the distinction between guilt and non-guilt should be understood. This is the extra-canonical explanation. And just as with sending a monk to a fierce yakkha's monastery, so too, regarding sending a fierce yakkha to a monk, the distinction between guilt and non-guilt should be understood. The same method applies to stories of fierce wildernesses and so on. The only difference here is that a wilderness where fierce animals or long-bodied creatures are present is a fierce wilderness. Where there are thieves, it is a thieves' wilderness. Thus, the meaning of the word alone is different. And this pārājika concerning human beings is subtle; it is not escaped by indirect speech. Therefore, if someone were to say, "In such and such a place, a thief is seated; whoever cuts off his head and brings it, will receive a special honor from the king." And hearing this speech, someone goes and kills him, that one becomes pārājika. 188. "Thinking it to be him," and so on: That monk, desiring to kill his enemy monk, thought, "If I kill him by day, it will not be easy for me to get away safely; I will kill him by night." Having resolved thus, he came by night to the sleeping place of many, and thinking it to be him, he deprived that very one of life. Another, thinking it to be him, killed another. Another, thinking it to be his companion, killed him. Another, thinking it to be his companion, killed another. He deprived another, his companion, of life. For all of them, it is a pārājika offence. In the first story concerning those possessed by non-humans, he struck, thinking, "I will drive away the yakkha." The other (yakkha) thought, "This one is not capable of erring now; I will kill him." Here, it is said that there is no offence for not intending to kill. However, a blow should not be given to one possessed by a non-human merely for this reason. But a palm-leaf or a protective thread should be tied to the hand or foot. Protective chants like the Ratana Sutta should be recited. A Dhamma talk should be given, saying, "Do not harm a virtuous bhikkhu." Stories of heaven and so on are clear in meaning. What needed to be said here has been said. 189. The story of cutting down a tree is similar to the story of binding a trap. But this is the distinction: if one is crushed by a tree but does not die, and it is possible to cut the tree on one side or dig the earth and get out, and he has an axe or a hatchet in his hand, even then, life should be sacrificed. Neither the tree should be cut, nor the earth dug. Why?