The Skeptical King and the Arahant

On a crisp morning in the royal garden beneath the snowy peaks, the air was unusually still. King Bayasi, known for his sharp intellect and practical nature, sat on a stone bench under a great tree. Before him stood Venerable Kumara Kassaba, an Arahant with a serene face and eyes bright as stars. This meeting had been long anticipated. King Bayasi did not believe in anything metaphysical; he trusted only what he could see and hear. Today, he intended to test the wisdom of this enlightened monk.

"Venerable," the King said gently but firmly, "I have heard much about you. But I must speak plainly: I do not believe in life after death, samsara (cycle of rebirth), or cause and effect (karmic law). I certainly do not believe in realms of gods or demons. Please tell me your view."

The Venerable smiled calmly, unshaken by the challenge. He replied, "Great King, may I ask one question? Do you think the sun and moon belong to the human world or another realm?"

The King paused, then answered, "They clearly belong to another realm, the world of the devas. Humans cannot reach them."

"Then you already acknowledge a metaphysical world," the Venerable said softly. "If the sun and moon operate from another realm, why doubt the existence of the deva realms?"

The King shook his head. "Your logic is sound, yet I remain unconvinced. Let me share my experience. I had a close friend who lived a wicked life, committing killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, and lying. It is said such people fall into hell upon death. I asked him, 'If you truly go to hell, please return to tell me.' Years have passed, and no one has returned. How can I believe?"

The Venerable did not answer immediately. He looked deeply into the King’s eyes and asked, "Suppose a thief commits murder and you capture him. What would you do?"

"I would bind him, judge him publicly, and execute him at the place of punishment," the King replied with authority.

"If that condemned man begged you, 'Please let me go home to warn my family, and I will return to accept my sentence,' would you allow it?"

The King laughed. "Impossible! A bound prisoner awaiting execution cannot freely leave to send word."

"Precisely," the Venerable said, his voice lowering. "Those who die and fall into hell are similarly bound by their karma. They cannot freely return to report back. Your own sense of justice reveals this truth."

The King fell silent for a moment. Then he spoke again, "You make sense, but I am still not convinced. I had another friend who lived virtuously and performed many good deeds. I told him, 'If you ascend to heaven, please return to tell me.' Yet, no one came. Therefore, death is simply the end."

The Venerable smiled and offered an analogy. "Imagine a man falls into a pit of filth, overwhelmed by the stench. His relatives rescue him, wash him clean, apply fragrant oils, and dress him in fine clothes. Would he wish to jump back into the pit to inform those still down there?"

"Certainly not," the King answered.

"It is the same here. Our human world, however clean we imagine it to be, is like that pit compared to the heavenly realms. Those born in heaven enjoy subtle happiness and feel horror when thinking of this world. Why would they want to return?"

The King nodded thoughtfully but remained skeptical. "Even so, I have one more objection. Followers of your path believe in samsara and cause and effect. They live well, yet some commit suicide hoping to be reborn in better realms. Is this not pessimism and passivity? Does this belief not make people inactive?"

The Venerable sighed. "You are right that some misunderstand cause and effect. Consider a Brahmin with three wives. As he lay dying, his youngest wife, pregnant but without a son, wanted to secure her inheritance. Under Indian law, only sons inherit. To prove her unborn child was male, she cut open her own belly. Both mother and child died. She believed in karmic results, but through impatience, she destroyed the very outcome she sought. Like planting a mango tree and chopping it down before it bears fruit to check if it works—how can there be fruit?"

The King listened intently. The Venerable continued, "One who truly understands cause and effect is not pessimistic. They practice patience in difficult circumstances while actively doing good to transform karma. They are neither impatient nor self-destructive. In fact, they are the most energetic and positive people."

When the Venerable finished, King Bayasi sat in profound silence. His gaze softened, losing its former hardness. He joined his palms together. "Venerable, I understand now. Your reasoning is deep. From this day forward, I will abandon my stubbornness."

From that day on, King Bayasi became a person of deep faith in cause and effect, yet never blind. He used his wisdom to practice wholesome karma and his power to help his subjects. The story of his dialogue with Venerable Kumara Kassaba spread across kingdoms, serving as a lesson in patience and wisdom.

### The Meaning of the Story

This tale teaches us not to hastily deny metaphysical truths simply because we cannot see them. The law of cause and effect always operates, but it requires wisdom to understand and apply correctly. One who truly comprehends karma knows how to endure circumstances patiently while striving to do good, avoiding both pessimism and negativity.

Compiled from the dharma talk by Most Venerable Thich Chan Quang