The Ascetic Hanging Upside Down and His Threats

In the city of Vesali, an ascetic would hang upside down from a tree branch to intimidate the people and collect money.

The evening wind blew through the tall trees of the capital, carrying the scent of wild grass and the rustle of dry leaves. The golden sunlight was brilliant, yet it could not dispel the stifling heat of the land east of Magadha. Beneath a massive ancient tree, where shade stretched across the packed earth, a man gasped for breath, sweat streaming down his temples. His legs were hooked onto a sturdy branch, his entire body inverted, blood rushing to his face until it turned crimson. At the base of the tree, he placed a hat for passersby to drop coins into. He did nothing else but hang there all day, in silence and patience.

"This man has great spiritual power; he must be practicing something formidable!" a passerby thought silently, pulling a few coins from his pocket and dropping them into the hat.

This was one of the common scenes in Vesali at that time. It was a magnificent and civilized capital, where people were accustomed to seeing ascetics display extraordinary endurance to appear as if they were strictly observing their religious vows.

Several years passed, and rumors about the upside-down ascetic spread throughout the city. People admired him for his ability to endure pain, hanging himself on the branch day after day to beg for offerings. But few knew that when he was not hanging upside down, he wandered here and there, telling fortunes to anyone he met. His patient suspension was merely a disguise; inside lay a mind full of afflictions (kleshas) and scheming.

One morning, having just descended from the branch, he massaged his numb legs, his face still flushed red. A woman walked by, and he blocked her path, staring intently into her eyes.

"You will have a car accident next month," he said. "If you do not make offerings so I can pray for you, death will strike!"

She startled, stepping back with her heart pounding, hastily handing over money before hurrying away. He smirked, putting the coins in his pocket. But he did not stop with one person. He roamed the streets, telling everyone:

"Your house is about to burn down!" "That woman will be abandoned by her husband!"

To those who did not listen or offer donations, he threatened:

"Disaster will fall upon your heads!"

The people, filled with fear, gave money hoping for peace. But deep down, they hated him. Fear does not generate love; it only generates resentment. Like a kidnapper using lives as leverage to extort money, people despised him bitterly but felt powerless.

One day, standing in the middle of the market, he pointed to the sky and shouted at the murmuring crowd:

"If the entire city of Vesali does not make offerings to me, natural disasters will strike, epidemics will spread, and no one will escape!"

A nearby merchant, pale-faced, asked:

"Sir, where can we find so much money? You practice austerity, why threaten the whole city?"

He glanced sideways, his voice cold:

"If you do not worry, you will die. Only with money can you hope I will pray for you!"

Thus, people gave money while simultaneously fearing and hating him, cursing him behind his back. Some unemployed individuals saw this and tried to imitate him by hanging upside down, but no one dared act as aggressively because they feared his threats.

Bhikkhus on alms rounds often encountered him. Hearing stories from others, they brought food and water, believing he was truly practicing. However, when they witnessed him threatening individuals and then the entire city, the bhikkhus reported this to the Buddha. The Buddha looked on in silence, then rebuked:

"What use is a foolish person with tangled hair and goat-skin robes? Their inner mind is full of afflictions (kleshas), while their face pretends to be solemn."

The Buddha explained that in many past lives, this man had been an ascetic who also intimidated people to take their money. In this life, he was again an ascetic, retaining the same bad habits. Cause and effect (karmic law) repeated itself endlessly: falling into lower realms, being born again, practicing, and then falling again, never escaping.

Hearing the Buddha's words, the bhikkhus understood: the robe of austerity does not make a monk. Although this ascetic wore goat skin and hung from a branch, his greedy mind and threatening words revealed him as a fake practitioner. From then on, the people of Vesali gradually woke up. They no longer feared him, viewing him instead as pitiable, trapped in old karma.

Later, when he grew old and weak, unable to hang upside down anymore, no one gave him money. He passed away quietly in solitude, leaving a lesson for those who wear the appearance of practice but lack true spiritual integrity.

The Meaning of the Story

This story shows that a false appearance of austerity cannot hide an inner mind filled with afflictions (kleshas) and greed. Fake practitioners who use threats to exploit others will be despised, and negative cause and effect (karmic law) will repeat endlessly. True practitioners must overcome material desires, live sincerely, and not rely on tricks or intimidation of others.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang