A Flower with Color but No Fragrance

In the garden of Jetavana monastery, golden sunlight spread gently over the bodhi trees, and birds sang merrily. Amid this peaceful setting, a lay disciple named Satapani sat attending to the Buddha. He was a householder who had attained the fruit of Sakadagami, living a simple life, eating one meal a day, calm and profound in every thought and action. The Buddha held him in great affection.

Suddenly, from a distance, the sounds of the royal entourage announced that King Pasenadi had come to visit the Buddha. The king entered with the majesty of a monarch, dressed in splendid robes, followed by a large retinue. Normally, when subjects met the king, they had to kneel and bow their heads in praise. But Satapani only gave a slight bow, then continued sitting quietly. King Pasenadi felt a flicker of irritation, but since he was before the Buddha, he restrained himself.

The Buddha clearly saw the king's state of mind, and spoke as soon as the king sat down:

"Great King, this lay disciple Satapani is a person of virtue and holiness, living with moderation and restraint, endowed with profound wisdom. He is worthy of respect."

Hearing the Buddha's praise, the king's annoyance faded, and he turned to ask the Buddha about the teachings that puzzled him. Afterward, the king returned home.

On another day, Satapani happened to meet the king on the road. This time, he immediately removed his sandals and his hat, knelt down, and bowed fully to the king according to proper protocol. King Pasenadi was surprised and called him back to ask:

"Last time you met me before the Buddha, why did you only bow slightly? Yet today you greet me with full ceremony?"

Satapani pressed his palms together and replied with reverence:

"Great King, when we met before the Buddha, to me the Buddha is the Supreme One, beyond the three realms, without equal. Before such a being, I could not divide my reverence with anyone else. But today, only Your Majesty is here, and as your subject, I must greet you with all my respect."

King Pasenadi was overjoyed to hear this. He began asking Satapani about the teachings of cause and effect (karmic law) and samsara (cycle of rebirth). Satapani answered clearly and thoroughly, and the king was deeply impressed. The king said:

"You truly possess wisdom! I wish for you to come to the palace and teach the Dharma to my queens and consorts."

Satapani humbly declined:

"Great King, our capital of Savatthi currently has the Buddha and the noble Sangha residing here. That is the highest blessing. My knowledge compared to the Buddha's is merely a grain of sand in the desert, a drop of water in the ocean. Please invite the Buddha and the monks to the palace to teach the Dharma, for that would be truly worthy."

The king reflected and saw the wisdom in this, so he personally went to invite the Buddha and the monks to the palace to teach the Dharma to his queens and court ladies.

Among them were two principal queens: Queen Mallika and Queen Vasabhakhattiya, mother of Prince Virudhaka. The Buddha taught a few times, then entrusted the teaching to Venerable Ananda, who taught very well even though he had not yet attained the fruit of Arahantship.

Queen Mallika studied very diligently. Whenever Venerable Ananda tested her, she answered fluently and completely, and immediately applied the teachings to her life. She treated the court ladies kindly, and advised the king to do many beneficial things for his people. Because of this, in the final years of his life, King Pasenadi became an ideal king.

Queen Vasabhakhattiya, on the other hand, was the opposite. She sat through the lessons just to get by, without interest or attention in her heart. She answered questions just to finish, without practicing. She did not recognize the hatred in her son's heart, nor did she soothe it, and later Prince Virudhaka committed terrible crimes.

Venerable Ananda returned and reported these two opposite attitudes toward learning to the Buddha. The Buddha then spoke this verse:

"Just as a beautiful flower, with color but no fragrance, so too are well-spoken words without action—they are of no use."

The Buddha wanted to emphasize a common ailment of many people: they hear a beautiful teaching, understand it, feel delighted by it, and then rush to repeat it to others as if they had practiced it deeply themselves. But in truth, they are merely borrowing the Buddha's copyright without paying the fee. The most serious consequence is this: if we speak without practicing, we may never be able to practice at all. Because when adversity comes, we will react contrary to what we once taught others.

Therefore, when we hear a teaching, we should practice it first, and not rush to become teachers of the world. If we must advise someone, we should speak in the spirit of "having copyright": mentioning that "the Buddha taught in the sutras...", rather than lecturing others condescendingly. The process of practice requires: paying homage to the Buddha and making aspirations, doing small tasks, maintaining humility and discretion, and only then undertaking great works. Only when we can encourage others to practice alongside us does our merit become solid and secure, without decline.

The Meaning of the Story

The lesson that Venerable Thich Chan Quang wished to convey: Hearing and understanding the teachings is only the first step. One must practice, and then encourage others to practice as well, so that one's words carry fragrance like a flower with both color and scent. Speaking without acting is merely an artificial flower, useless and empty.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang.