Well, it so happened that near Kapila, the Shakya city in
which the Buddha was born, there was a large pond and, on the
shore of that pond, there was a small village. Nobody remembers
the name of the village.
One year a great drought occurred. The crops withered
and the villagers couldn't think of anything else to do but kill and
eat the fish that lived in the pond. They caught every fish except
one. This last fish was captured by a boy who played with the
wretched creature by bouncing it on its head. That's what he was
doing when the villagers took it from him and killed it.
Then the rains came again and everywhere in the kingdom
life returned to normal. People got married and had children. One
of those children was Siddhartha, the Buddha, who was born in the
city of Kapila, near that village and pond.
Siddhartha grew up and preached the Dharma, gaining
many followers. Among these followers was the King of Shravasti,
King Prasenajit. This King married a Shakya girl and the two of
them produced a son: Prince Virudhaka, the "Crystal One". The
royal couple decided to raise the Prince in Kapila, the Buddha's
city.
At first, everything was fine. Prince Virudhaka was a
healthy baby and before long he grew into a nice strong boy. But
before he was even ready to start school, a momentous event
occurred.
It happened that one day, during the Buddha's absence
from Kapila, the young prince climbed up onto the Buddha's Honored Chair and began to play there. He meant no harm - he was just
a child playing. But Oh! - when the Buddha's clansmen saw the
prince playing in this sacred place they became very angry and reprimanded the prince and dragged him down from the chair, humiliating and punishing him.
How can a child understand the foolishness of zealots?
Adults can't figure it out. It's really quite mysterious. Their harsh
treatment served only to embitter the prince and to cause him to
hate all his Shakya clansmen. It was their harsh treatment that
started him on his career of cruelty and vengeance.
Eventually, the prince, by killing his own father, it is said,
was able to ascend the throne of Shravasti. Now, as King
Virudhaka, the Crystal King, he was finally able to take revenge
against the Shakya clan. Leading his own soldiers, he began to
attack the city of Kapila.
When the Buddha's clansmen came to tell him about the
impending massacre, they found him suffering from a terrible headache. They begged him to intervene and rescue the people of Kapila
from the Crystal King's brutal attack, but the Buddha, groaning in
pain, refused to help. "A fixed Karma cannot be changed," he said.
The clansmen then turned to Maudgalyayana, one of the
Buddha's most powerful disciples, and begged for his assistance.
He listened to their sad complaint, and moved to pity, decided to
assist the besieged citizens of Kapila.
Using his supernatural abilities, Maudgalyayana extended
his miraculous bowl to the threatened Shakya and allowed five hundred of them to climb into it. Then he raised the bowl high in the
air, thinking that he had lifted them to safety. But when he again
lowered the bowl, the five hundred men had turned into a pool of
blood.
The dreadful sight so alarmed everyone that the Buddha
decided to disclose the story of his ancestors, those villagers who
had killed all the fish during the drought.
"This marauding army of soldiers that are now attacking
Kapila had been those fish," he explained. "The people of Kapila
who are now being massacred were the people who killed those
fish. The Crystal King, himself, was that last big fish. And who, do
you think," the Buddha asked, holding a cold cloth against his forehead, "was the boy who bounced that fish on its head?"
So, for killing the fish, the people suffered death. And for
hurting that fish's head, the Buddha was now plagued with an awful
headache.
And what about Virudhaka, the Crystal King? Naturally,
he was reborn in Hell.
And so, you see, there is no end to cause and effect. A
cause produces an effect which itself becomes the cause of another
effect. Action and reaction. Tribute and Retribution. This is the Law
of Causality. Sooner or later our evil deeds catch up with us. The
only way to prevent the effect is to prevent the cause. We must learn
to be forgiving, to overlook injury and insult, and to never seek
revenge or even harbor any grudges. We must never become zealots, self-righteous and proud in our vain notions of piety and duty,
and above all, we must always be gentle, especially with children.
Let me tell you another cause and effect story. This one
concerns Chan Master Bai Zhang who actually was able to liberate
a wild fox-spirit. Very few people have been able to do that!
It seems that one evening, after a Chan meeting had ended
and all his disciples had retired, Master Bai Zhang noticed that an
elderly man was lingering outside the Meditation Hall.
Bai Zhang approached the man and asked, "Tell me, sir,
who or what is it that you're seeking?"
The elderly man replied, "No, not `sir'. I am not a human
being at all. I am a wild fox who is merely inhabiting the body of a
man."
Bai Zhang was naturally very surprised and curious.
"How did you get into this condition?" he asked.
The elderly fox-man explained, "Five hundred years ago, I
was the head monk of this monastery. One day, a junior monk came
and asked me, `When a man attains enlightenment is he still subject
to the Law of Causality?' and I boldly answered him, `No, he is
exempt from the Law.' My punishment for this false and arrogant
answer was that my spirit was changed into the spirit of a wild fox
and so I ran off, into the mountains. As a fox-man I could not die,
and, for so long as my ignorance remains, I must continue to live in
this wretched condition. For five hundred years I have been roaming the forests seeking the knowledge that will free me. Master, I
beg you to be compassionate towards me and to enlighten me to the
truth."
Master Bei Zhang spoke gently to the fox-man. "Ask me
the same question that the junior monk asked you, and I will give
you the correct answer."
The fox-man complied. "I wish to ask the master this:
When a man attains enlightenment is he still subject to the Law of
Causality?"
Bai Zhang answered, "Yes. He is never exempt from the
Law. He may never close his eyes to the possibilities of cause and
effect. He must remain aware of all his present and past actions."
Suddenly the old fox-man was enlightened and free. He
prostrated himself before the master and thanked him profusely. "At
last," he said, "I am liberated!" Then, as he started to leave, he
turned and asked Bai Zhang, "Master, since I am a monk, would
you kindly grant me the usual funeral rites for a monk? I live
nearby, in a den on the mountain behind the monastery, and I will
go there now to die."
Bai Zhang agreed, and the next day he went to the mountain and located the den. But instead of finding an old monk there,
Bai Zhang saw only a disturbance in the den's earthen floor. He
probed this disturbance with his stick and discovered a dead fox!
Well, a promise is a promise! Master Bai Zhang conducted the usual monk's funeral rites over the fox's body. Everyone
thought Bai Zhang quite mad, especially when he led a solemn
funeral procession... with a dead fox on the bier!
So you see, dear friends, even the attainment of Buddhahood does not exempt one from the Law of Causality. When even
the Buddha can suffer a headache for having been unkind to a fish,
how much more is our need to remain heedful of the principle that
an injurious act, sooner or later, will bring us an injurious retribution. Be careful in what you say or do! Don't risk becoming a fox
spirit!
