The Applause Deep in the Forest

**SUMMARY:** Elder Udana, though poorly educated, attained sainthood. His short verses drew applause from celestial beings, while those of a learned lecturer did not.

Night fell, and the ancient forest sank into a blanket of cold white mist. The murmur of insects blended with the breeze whispering through the leaves, composing a symphony of silence. Beneath an old Bodhi tree, a thin, aged monk sat in the lotus position, his hands resting lightly on his knees, the moonlight casting an inexplicably serene glow upon his face. He closed his eyes and began to chant softly: "The noble sage, with lofty thoughts, strives diligently in silence. Such a sage's mind is ever-pure, always mindful, free from afflictions (kleshas)." The moment he finished, the night sky suddenly erupted with thunderous applause, echoing through the countless trees as if a thousand invisible hands were in praise. This was Elder Udana – an Arhat living in seclusion deep within the forest.

Elder Udana had attained Arhatship at a young age, yet he was unlike many monks who followed the Buddha closely to hear the sutras. He had learned only a few short verses from the Buddha and showed no interest in studying the vast Tripiṭaka. Nevertheless, his mind was so pure that the light of his virtue ascended to the heavenly realms. Every day, he chanted those verses as an indispensable ritual. As time passed, the nightly applause of the celestial beings became legendary, and people whispered that the forest was home to deities who would praise anyone who chanted the teachings.

Hearing these rumors, a group of learned lecturers – masters of the Tripiṭaka, whose Dharma talks flowed like rain – grew curious and yearned to hear the celestial applause for themselves. They led their large assemblies to the forest and set up a Dharma platform. One of them adjusted his robes, glanced at the silent trees, and said to his disciples, "I carry a thousand sermons with me; surely the celestial beings will erupt in applause at my scholarship." The disciples rejoiced, yet deep within the lecturer's heart, a conflict stirred: "How can a poorly learned monk like Udana be praised by humans and devas alike, while my eloquent Dharma discourses are met with silence? Is something lacking in me?"

The next morning, the group of lecturers began their Dharma talks. Their voices filled the forest, the sutras were lengthy, and the philosophy was profound, making the disciples nod in appreciation. But as the sun set and night returned, the celestial beings remained silent. The lead lecturer approached the very tree where Udana often sat and found him chanting his short verses. Annoyed, he asked, "How is it that your simple few lines draw applause from the heavens, while we lecture day and night to no response?"

Udana opened his eyes and calmly replied, "I do not know where the applause comes from; I only keep my mind pure and chant."

The lecturer shook his head, "Anyone knows those verses. If I chanted them, why would the heavens not praise me?"

Udana smiled gently, "Perhaps it is because you chant with your mouth, while I chant with my entire life, free from indulgence."

The lecturers were not convinced. They returned and reported to the Buddha. Their representative joined his palms and said, "World-Honored One, we and others expound the Dharma widely, yet the celestial beings do not applaud. Only a poorly learned monk receives praise. Is this just?"

The Buddha gazed upon them with compassion and spoke, "The true custodian of the Dharma is not defined by much speech. Those who, though they hear little, practice the Dharma correctly, free from indulgence and heedlessness – they are the ones worthy of being called its custodians."

The lecturers were stunned. They realized the celestial beings did not dwell within the forest trees; those enlightened ones resided in higher realms, responding only to the radiant minds of the saints. When a crowd was noisy, the celestial beings withdrew from sight. The crucial realization dawned: the applause did not come from the verses or the forest, but from the silent virtue of a mind free from heedlessness.

From that day on, the lecturers abandoned their arrogance. They returned home, and each day they did more than just read sutras; they sat in meditation, upheld the precepts, and practiced according to the Buddha's true teachings. The applause from the heavens was no longer their goal, but their hearts grew lighter, and their virtue deepened.

In the years that followed, the forest still echoed nightly with Elder Udana's chanting, and now and then, from the stillness, the resounding applause of celestial beings would fill the air – not for a long sermon, but for a life lived with few words and much cultivation.

**The Meaning of the Story**

Being a true custodian of the Dharma is not about speaking much. It is about a person who, though they may have studied little, lives in accordance with the teachings, free from indulgence and heedlessness, thereby inspiring beings in the heavenly realms. The celestial beings' applause was not for the beauty of the verses, but for the pure mind of the saint.

Compiled from a Dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang