A leper and the invitation from the Heaven King Shakra

The evening breeze swept through the old bamboo groves of the Bamboo Grove Monastery, carrying the faint scent of dry leaves and the steady sound of chanting from afar. Outside the bamboo fence, a man crouched in tattered rags, his arms raw with whitish-gray leprous sores. He lingered hesitantly in the shadows, not daring to approach the main gate. Inside, the assembly was packed; everyone sat in solemn attention, listening to the Buddha expound the Dharma. Occasionally, someone would glance toward the dark figure outside, see the diseased form, and quickly turn away, covering their nose. The man hung his head, his bare feet shifting slightly on the hot sand, his heart constricting over his fate—a leper, shunned by the world since the day he was born into this life.

Many years had passed since the disease took hold. He had wandered from remote villages to the Monastery, relying on the alms of benefactors and sleeping in rough shelters. In a past life, he had been a wealthy man who looked down on others, even spitting on a Pratyekabuddha. This resulted in karmic retribution in the hells, followed by rebirth as a leper, despised by all. Yet, during the Dharma talk that day, as the clear voice resounded from the Dharma seat, his mind suddenly became clear. He realized the fruit of a Stream-enterer—the initial door to liberation opened before this wretched being. But he dared not step forward, only waiting for the talk to end, his heart a mix of overflowing joy and heavy shame.

When the Buddha finished speaking, the crowd gradually dispersed. He hurried along, trying to keep a distance of several yards at the rear, his hand swatting at flies. Reaching a secluded bend, he slipped into a narrow alley, leaning against the rammed-earth wall, breathing heavily. "Knowing what I am, how can I go meet Him? What if others are disgusted?" he wondered, tears seeping from his ulcerated eyes. Yet, the longing to share his realization arose. He waited until darkness shrouded the path, then secretly returned to the Monastery. His feet were scraped and bleeding on the gravel, but his heart blazed with light.

In the empty road, a blinding radiance suddenly tore through the night. The Heaven King Shakra appeared in the void, his form vast with light, his eyes looking down as if smiling. Startled, the man bowed deeply, his hands clasped and trembling. "Who are you?" he asked in a timid voice. "I am Shakra, Lord of the Devas," the celestial voice rang out clearly. "I see your devotion, so I have come to visit and will grant you anything you desire, if you refrain from going to the Monastery to see the Buddha. You need not seek the Buddha anymore; following me is enough."

The man snapped his head up, his chest pounding. On one side was the glorious celestial realm, on the other was the Buddha—the teacher who had just opened his eyes. He choked back, then gritted his teeth.

Shakra waved his hand lightly, gilding the corner of the sky with gold. "I will cure your disease, give you gold and silver, grant you a palace in the heavens. You only need to cease following the Buddha."

The man stepped back half a pace, his fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. "You are a fool!" he exclaimed, his voice suddenly resonant and no longer trembling. "If you lack sufficient reverence for the Buddha, then you are worthy of nothing. As for me, though I am poor, wretched, and diseased, I follow the Buddha and possess the seven treasures: abundant faith, diligence, wisdom, knowing shame for sins, observing the holy precepts, letting go of attachments, and achieving meditative concentration. These are priceless, beyond comparison with anything in the world. Now, get out of my sight!"

Shakra smiled and vanished, not angry but pleased that the test was clear.

A turning point in the man's life had just closed: that rebuke was proof his mind was as solid as bedrock, unshaken by any temptation. He sighed with relief and continued to the Monastery gate. The monks were astonished by the radiant gaze of the leper and led him inside. The Buddha received him kindly, knowing his worldly ties were ending. The man presented his realization, and the Buddha nodded in confirmation: "You have attained the first fruit."

Then the man bowed in gratitude and departed.

Just past the road at dusk, a cow suddenly charged, goring him violently in the chest. He was flung into the air and crashed down, his frail body lying still in the dust. The monks heard the news and discussed it after meditation. The Buddha came and explained: in a past life, the man and three companions had deceived a courtesan, stolen her money, and killed her. The vengeful girl was reborn as a cow and had now gored all four to death. He had now repaid his debt. Furthermore, because of his practice of repentance for three years after insulting the Pratyekabuddha, after death, he was reborn in the heaven of Shakra, welcomed with honor.

From then on, the story of the leper became a profound lesson at the Monastery: a person bearing the most despised physical form, once having realized the Path, possessed an absolute faith in the Three Jewels that rendered all hollow fame and profit meaningless, like foam on water. Though his life ended with a tragic death, his spirit had transcended, ascending to a blessed, peaceful realm. This proved that an enlightened inner heart is truly immovable.

Meaning of the story: The most fearful enemy is one's own lack of wisdom and loss of faith in oneself. One who attains the first fruit has absolute faith in the Three Jewels, lives selflessly, is free from stubborn attachments, and holds firm to their ideals before all temptations. Whether one's status is lowly or old karma remains to be repaid, once the mind has awakened, no obscuration can cloud the truth of the Dharma.

Compiled from the dharma talk of Venerable Thích Chân Quang