The Final Teaching of Sariputta

That afternoon, the sun had fully set behind the mountain ridge, and the air at Bamboo Grove began to grow cool. The Venerable Sariputta had just finished his morning alms round and was resting beneath a large tree when he saw a figure approaching from a distance. It was the Brahmin Dhanañjani, a man of power and influence near Rajagaha, walking hurriedly, his clothes still dusted from the road.

Upon meeting the Venerable One, he respectfully pressed his palms together and spoke with some hesitation:

"Venerable sir, I am having milk cows milked outside the city. The milk is still warm from milking. Please, Venerable One, drink it to warm yourself."

The Venerable Sariputta smiled and gently declined:

"I have already eaten today. You may come see me at midday, while I rest beneath this tree."

The Brahmin obeyed and withdrew. In the afternoon, he returned and sat down before the Venerable One, his face full of concern.

The Venerable One looked straight into his eyes and asked a question without any preamble:

"Dhanañjani, do you practice, do you restrain your body and mind, or do you still live indulging in sensual pleasures?"

The Brahmin sighed, his voice almost pleading:

"Venerable sir, how could we not be heedless? I still have elderly parents to care for, a wife and children to raise, servants and laborers whose food and schooling I must provide. I have obligations to friends and companions, to blood relatives, to guests, to ancestors who must be honored with offerings, to the deities who must be worshipped, to the king to whom taxes must be paid. And this body itself must be fed, clothed, and nourished. Venerable sir, with so many duties piling upon one another, how could I find leisure to practice?"

The Venerable Sariputta did not answer right away. He looked at the man before him, then asked a question that forced him to reflect:

"Dhanañjani, what do you think? If someone does what is unlawful and unrighteous for the sake of his parents, can he, when he dies, excuse himself by saying, 'I did this for the sake of my parents,' and thus escape falling into hell?"

The Brahmin was silent for a moment, then bowed his head and answered:

"Venerable sir, whether he makes excuses or his parents plead for him, he must still bear the fruit of his karma and be dragged down to hell by the demon guardians."

The Venerable One continued asking, one subject at a time: for the sake of wife and children, for servants, for friends, for guests, for ancestors, for the deities, for the king, for oneself. Each time, the Brahmin had to give the same answer: no matter for whom, if one does what is unlawful, one still falls into hell.

At this point, the Venerable One smiled and asked a question in reverse:

"What do you think, then? A person who does what is unlawful for the sake of his parents, and a person who does what is lawful for the sake of his parents—which one is better?"

The Brahmin's eyes suddenly brightened, as if he had just realized something:

"Venerable sir, the one who does what is lawful and righteous is always better. Practicing what is right is always better than practicing what is wrong."

The Venerable One nodded, then asked the same question for each subject in turn: for wife and children, for servants, for friends, for ancestors, for the deities, for oneself. Each time, the Brahmin had to confirm for himself that doing good, doing what is lawful, was always better. He joyfully bowed at the Venerable One's feet and departed, his heart feeling light, as though a heavy burden had been lifted.

Some time later, the Brahmin fell gravely ill. The pain tormented him fiercely, as if someone were hacking at his head, as if being squeezed tightly, as if a terrible wind were cutting across his belly, as if he were being roasted over a pit of coals. He sent someone to invite the Venerable Sariputta. When the Venerable One arrived and sat down in the seat prepared for him, seeing the Brahmin's emaciated body and faint breathing, he asked:

"Dhanañjani, are you bearing up? Is the pain easing at all?"

The sick man groaned:

"Venerable sir, I cannot endure it. The pain grows worse and worse; it never eases."

The Venerable Sariputta looked at him in silence for a moment. He knew the man was about to pass away. He did not ask about the pain again, but suddenly asked a question that made the sick man gather his attention:

"Dhanañjani, what do you think? Hell and the animal realm—which is better?"

The sick man struggled to answer:

"Venerable sir, the animal realm is better than hell."

"The animal realm and the realm of hungry ghosts—which is better?"

"Venerable sir, the realm of hungry ghosts is better than the animal realm."

The Venerable One continued asking, level by level: hungry ghosts compared with humans, humans with the Heaven of the Four Great Kings, the Four Great Kings with the Heaven of the Thirty-Three, then up through the Yama Heaven, the Tushita Heaven, the Heaven of Delighting in Creation, the Heaven of Wielding Power over Others' Creations, and finally the Brahma world. Each time, the sick man answered for himself that the higher realm was better.

Here, the Venerable Sariputta paused. He knew this Brahmin was deeply attached to the Brahma world, so he said:

"Dhanañjani, I shall teach you the path that leads to dwelling together with the Brahma beings. Listen and apply your mind well. A monk dwells pervading one direction with a heart of loving-kindness, then the second direction, the third direction, the fourth direction, throughout the world above, below, and across, free of hatred and ill will. That is the path leading to dwelling together with the Brahma beings. Likewise with a heart of compassion, a heart of sympathetic joy, and a heart of equanimity."

The Brahmin lay there, eyes brimming with tears, his mind seemingly grown completely calm. He whispered:

"Venerable sir, please bow your head in homage to the World-Honored One on my behalf, and tell him that the Brahmin Dhanañjani, sick and suffering, bows at the feet of the World-Honored One."

The Venerable Sariputta nodded, then rose from his seat and departed. On the way back, he thought: "Even though there are higher and more excellent realms to be realized, I have established this Brahmin in the lower Brahma world."

When the Venerable One returned to Bamboo Grove, the Buddha already knew everything. He said to the monks:

"Monks, even though there are higher and more excellent realms to be realized, Sariputta, after establishing the Brahmin Dhanañjani in the lower Brahma world, rose from his seat and departed."

The Venerable Sariputta came to bow before the Buddha and recounted everything. The Buddha smiled:

"Sariputta, why is it that, when there were still higher and more excellent realms to be realized, you established the Brahmin in the lower Brahma world and then departed?"

"World-Honored One, I thought that these Brahmins are deeply attached to the Brahma world, so I taught the path leading to dwelling together with the Brahma beings."

The Buddha nodded:

"Sariputta, the Brahmin Dhanañjani has passed away and has been reborn in the Brahma world."

The Venerable Sariputta fell silent. He had used his wisdom and compassion to guide a dying man—not through lofty sermons, but through questions that led the man to realize the truth for himself. And because of this, a soul terrified of death was established in a favorable realm.

The Meaning of the Story

The lesson Master Thich Chan Quang wished to convey: Sariputta's supreme wisdom was not merely in giving good teachings, but in skillfully using questions so that listeners could recognize the truth for themselves. When facing someone near death, one should not expound on matters too lofty, but should skillfully guide them step by step, beginning with what is familiar, so that they may let go of their attachments on their own and turn their mind toward what is wholesome. This is precisely compassion and wisdom applied in daily life.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Master Thich Chan Quang.