Two Friends, Two Paths

The atmosphere in Jeta Grove Monastery that morning was somewhat unusual. The first rays of sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting light upon the footsteps of the bhikkhus returning from alms rounds. But today, that air seemed to still as a monk returned from a distant place – one who had been away from Jeta Grove for nearly ten years, now leading a large, solemn procession of disciples as they entered the monastery gates.

This bhikkhu was named Lakuntaka – a close friend from their lay life of another bhikkhu who lived here at Jeta Grove. Both came from wealthy merchant families, both heard the Buddha teach, both resolved to renounce worldly life, and both spent their first five years training strictly in the precepts. But then, their paths diverged.

When they came to the Buddha to seek guidance for dedicated practice, one said, "Blessed One, I do not have the wisdom to study much. I ask permission to go practice meditative concentration in a secluded place." The Buddha nodded in permission. The other said, "Blessed One, I have the ability to study the sutras. I ask to remain here at Jeta Grove to learn." And so, for nearly ten years, one sat in deep meditation, contemplating the breath, contemplating the body, contemplating the mind, gradually attaining various levels of jhana, and finally reaching the fruit of Arahantship. The other, day after day, visited the elder monks, requesting to hear the suttas chanted, memorizing each discourse, pondering every word of the Buddha's teaching, becoming a learned scholar who could teach the Dharma fluently, and also gathering many disciples.

Today, hearing that his friend was about to return, a thought arose in the heart of the bhikkhu at Jeta Grove: "It's been so long since we met. I will question him on the Dharma to see who is more accomplished."

At that very moment, the Buddha was sitting in his fragrance chamber. With the divine ear, He knew that thought clearly. He knew that if the two met and challenged each other with a mind of competition, the bhikkhu who had only studied but not practiced would suffer a loss of merit, and might even fall into a lower state. Therefore, He immediately rose and went to the guest hall, where the two friends had just met.

"Bhikkhus, sit down here," the Buddha said, His voice gentle yet full of authority. The two bhikkhus had not yet had time to greet each other and quickly knelt to pay homage to the Buddha.

The Buddha looked at the bhikkhu devoted to scriptural study and asked, "Friend, what is the state of one who attains the first jhana?"

The bhikkhu immediately replied, "Blessed One, one attaining the first jhana is secluded from sensual desires and unwholesome states of mind, with applied and sustained thought, filled with rapture and joy throughout the body."

The Buddha nodded and asked, "What about the second jhana?"

"Blessed One, the second jhana is when the mind becomes wholly concentrated, tranquil, without applied and sustained thought, filled with a serene happiness."

The Buddha questioned him thus, from the first jhana through the fourth, from the first fruit of the stream-enterer to the fourth fruit of Arahantship. The bhikkhu answered precisely each time, but only in theoretical terms. When the Buddha asked, "How does the mind transform in one who attains the first fruit of Stream-Entry?" the bhikkhu could only list the three fetters that are abandoned, but could not describe the actual state of realization.

The Buddha then turned to the bhikkhu who had attained realization: "Friend, what is the first jhana like?"

That bhikkhu, with palms joined, replied, "Blessed One, the first jhana is secluded from sensual desires and unwholesome states, with applied and sustained thought, with the body filled with a rapture and joy born of seclusion. The body is like a lump of soap, like a mass of bathing water, all saturated with rapture and joy." He did not merely state the theory, but explained in detail why, when the mind is tranquil, evil has no ground to take root, and why rapture and joy arise from letting go of desire. To each point he explained, the Buddha expressed approval, from the first jhana, through the second, third, and fourth, to the fruits of the Noble Ones. With each word of praise from the Buddha, the devas in the heavenly realms trembled in awe and acclaim.

Sitting in the assembly, the disciples of the bhikkhu devoted to study began to murmur amongst themselves. "Why does the Buddha not praise our teacher when his answers are also correct, while that other bhikkhu receives such high praise?" A sense of indignation and injured pride swelled within them.

The Buddha heard it all. With the divine ear, He knew those whispers. And He spoke aloud, in a verse, which served as both a reprimand and a teaching for all:

"One who speaks the scriptures fluently but is lazy in practice, Is like a hired cowherd, not worthy of the monastic life. Though not speaking many scriptures, one who diligently practices, Abandoning greed, hatred, and delusion, with a mind bright and liberated, Unattached to both lives, is truly worthy of the monastic life."

The assembly fell silent. The disciples of the scholar bhikkhu bowed their heads, understanding the Buddha's teaching. The scholar bhikkhu himself was also stunned, realizing that no matter how vast one's knowledge may be, without practice, it is merely empty words, incapable of leading to liberation.

From that day on, the scholar bhikkhu began to focus on the practice of meditative concentration, no longer merely indulging in the study of theory. The bhikkhu who had attained realization continued on his path of practice, serving as a shining example for the disciples.

The Meaning of the Story

This story reminds us that studying the Buddha's teachings without practicing is like a hired cowherd – merely counting another's cows, with none of your own. Only practice brings true spiritual results, helping us to abandon greed, hatred, and delusion, and to attain liberation.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang