Skill in Questions: How the Buddha Taught

§ 205. “[Baka Brahm›:] ‘Well, monk, how do you discern my sphere, how do you discern my splendor: “Baka Brahm› has this much great power. Baka Brahm› has this much great might. Baka Brahm› has this much great influence”?’

“[The Buddha:] ‘As far as suns & moons revolve, shining, illuminating the directions,

over a thousand-fold world

your control holds sway.

There you know those above & below,

those with lust & those without,

the state of what is as it is,

the state of what becomes otherwise,

the coming & going of beings.

“‘That, brahm›, is how I discern your sphere, that is how I discern your splendor: “Baka Brahm› has this much great power. Baka Brahm› has this much great might. Baka Brahm› has this much great influence.” There are, brahm›, groups other than yours that you don’t know, don’t see, but that I know, I see.

There is, brahm›, the group named fibhassara [Radiant/Luminous] from which you fell away & reappeared here. From your having lived here so long, your memory of that has become muddled. That is why you don’t know it, don’t see it, but I know it, I see it. Thus I am not your mere equal in terms of direct knowing, so how could I be inferior? I am actually superior to you.

“‘There is, brahm›, the group named Subhaki˚ha [Beautiful Black/Refulgent Glory]…. the group named Vehapphala [Sky-fruit/Great Fruit], {….the group named AbhibhÒ [Conqueror]}1 which you don’t know, don’t see, but that I know, I see. Thus I am not your mere equal in terms of direct knowing, so how could I be your inferior? I am actually superior to you.

“‘Having directly known earth as earth, and having directly known the extent of what has not been experienced through the earthness of earth,2 I wasn’t earth, I wasn’t in earth, I wasn’t coming from earth, I wasn’t “Earth is mine.” I didn’t affirm earth.3 Thus I am not your mere equal in terms of direct knowing, so how could I be inferior? I am actually superior to you.

“‘Having directly known liquid as liquid… fire as fire… wind as wind…

beings as beings… devas as devas… Paj›pati as Paj›pati… brahm› as brahm›…

the radiant as radiant… the beautiful black as the beautiful black… the sky-fruit as the sky-fruit… the conqueror as the conqueror…

“‘Having directly known the all as the all, and having directly known the extent of what has not been experienced through the allness of the all, I wasn’t the all, I wasn’t in the all, I wasn’t coming forth from the all, I wasn’t “The all is mine.” I didn’t affirm the all. Thus I am not your mere equal in terms of direct knowing, so how could I be inferior? I am actually superior to you.’ “‘If, good sir, you have directly known the extent of what has not been experienced through the allness of the all, may it not turn out to be actually vain and void for you.’

“‘Consciousness without surface,

without end, luminous all around,

has not been experienced through the earthness of earth… the liquidity of liquid… the fieriness of fire… the windiness of wind… the allness of the all.’4 “‘Well then, good sir, I will disappear from you.’ “‘Well then, brahm›, disappear from me if you can.’ “Then Baka Brahm›, (thinking,) ‘I will disappear from Gotama the contemplative. I will disappear from Gotama the contemplative,’ was not able to disappear from me. When this was said, I said to Baka Brahm›, ‘Well then, brahm›, I will disappear from you.’

“‘Well then, good sir, disappear from me if you can.’ “So then, monks, I fabricated a fabrication of psychic power to the extent that Brahm›, the Brahma-assembly, and the attendants of the Brahma-assembly heard my voice but did not see me. Having disappeared, I recited this verse:

‘Having seen

danger

right in becoming,

and becoming

searching for non-becoming,

I didn’t affirm

any kind of becoming,

or cling to any delight.’

“Then in Brahm›, the Brahma-assembly, and the attendants of the Brahmaassembly there arose a sense of amazement & astonishment: ‘How amazing!

How astounding!—the great power, the great might of Gotama the contemplative! Never before have we seen or heard of any other contemplative or brahman of such great power, such great might as that of this Gotama the contemplative, who went forth from a Sakyan clan! Living in a generation that so delights in becoming, so rejoices in becoming, is so fond of becoming, he has pulled out becoming by the root!’” — MN 49

NOTES

This consciousness thus differs from the consciousness factor in dependent co-arising, which is defined in terms of the six sense media. Lying outside of time and space, it would also not come under the consciousness-aggregate, which covers all consciousness near and far; past, present, and future. And, as SN 35:23 [§197] notes, the word “all” in the Buddha’s teaching covers only the six sense media, which is another reason for not including this consciousness under the aggregates. However, the fact that it is outside of time and space— in a dimension where there is no here, there, or in between [§173], no coming, no going, or staying [§206]—means that it cannot be described as permanent or omnipresent, terms that have meaning only within space and time.

1. The phrase in braces is from the Burmese edition of the Canon.

2. What is not experienced through the earthness of earth (and so on through the list of categories up through the allness of the all) is nibb›na, or unbinding. It is described in these terms because it is directly known, without intermediary of any sort.

3. These statements can be read in two ways. The first way is to regard them in light of the standard definition of self-identity view [§179] in which one defines self either as identical with an aggregate, as possessing an aggregate, as being contained in an aggregate, or as containing an aggregate within it. The second way is to regard the statements in light of the parallel passage from MN 1, in which one engages in metaphysical speculation as to whether one’s being is identical with something, lies within something, or comes from something. For more on this topic, see the introduction to the MÒlapariy›ya Sutta (MN 1) in Handful of Leaves, volume one.

4. Consciousness without surface (viññ›˚aª anidassanaª): This term appears to be related to the following image from SN 12:64:

“Just as if there were a roofed house or a roofed hall having windows on the north, the south, or the east. When the sun rises, and a ray has entered by way of the window, where does it land?”

“On the western wall, lord.”

“And if there is no western wall, where does it land?”

“On the ground, lord.”

“And if there is no ground, where does it land?”

“On the water, lord.”

“And if there is no water, where does it land?”

“It doesn’t land, lord.”

“In the same way, where there is no passion for the nutriment of physical food… contact… intellectual intention… consciousness, where there is no delight, no craving, then consciousness does not land there or grow. Where consciousness does not land or grow, name-&-form does not alight. Where name-&-form does not alight, there is no growth of fabrications. Where there is no growth of fabrications, there is no production of renewed becoming in the future. Where there is no production of renewed becoming in the future, there is no future birth, aging, & death. That, I tell you, has no sorrow, affliction, or despair.”

In other words, normal sensory consciousness is experienced because it has a “surface”

against which it lands: the sense organs and their objects, which constitute the “all.” For instance, one experiences visual consciousness because of the eye and forms of which one is conscious. Consciousness without surface, however, is directly known, without intermediary, free from any dependence on conditions at all. In terms of the above image, it is a paradoxical luminosity that does not reflect off of anything at all.

Some have objected to the equation of this consciousness with nibb›na, on the grounds that nibb›na is nowhere else in the Canon described as a form of consciousness. Thus they have proposed that consciousness without surface be regarded as an arahant’s consciousness of nibb›na in meditative experience, and not nibb›na itself. This argument, however, contains two flaws: (1) The term viññ›˚aª anidassanaª also occurs in DN 11 [§161], where it is described as “where name & form are brought to an end”: surely a synonym for nibb›na. (2) If nibb›na is an object of mental consciousness (as a dhamma), it would come under the all, as an object of the intellect. There are passages in the Canon [§139] that describe meditators experiencing nibb›na as a dhamma, but these passages seem to indicate that this description applies up through the level of non-returning. Other passages, however, describe nibb›na as the ending of all dhammas. For instance, Sn 5:6 [§202] quotes the Buddha as calling the attainment of the goal the transcending of all dhammas. Sn 4:6 and Sn 4:10 state that the arahant has transcended dispassion, said to be the highest dhamma. Thus, for the arahant, nibb›na is not an object of consciousness.

Instead it is directly known without mediation. Because consciousness without surface is directly known without mediation, there seems good reason to equate the two.

§ 206. Now at that time the Blessed One was instructing, urging, rousing, & encouraging the monks with Dhamma-talk concerned with unbinding. The monks—receptive, attentive, focusing their entire awareness, lending ear— listened to the Dhamma.

Then, on realizing the significance of that, the Blessed One on that occasion exclaimed:

“There is that dimension where there is neither earth, nor water, nor fire, nor wind; neither dimension of the infinitude of space, nor dimension of the infinitude of consciousness, nor dimension of nothingness, nor dimension of neither perception nor non-perception; neither this world, nor the next world, nor sun, nor moon. And there, I say, there is neither coming, nor going, nor staying; neither passing away nor arising:

unestablished, unevolving, without support [mental object]. This, just this, is the end of stress.” — Ud 8:1

§ 207. It’s hard to see the unaffected,

for the truth is not easily seen.

Craving is pierced

in one who knows;

for one who sees,

there is nothing. — Ud 8:2

§ 208. Then Ven. Mah›Ko˛˛hita went to Ven. S›riputta and, on arrival, exchanged courteous greetings with him. After an exchange of friendly greetings & courtesies, he sat to one side. As he was sitting there, he said to Ven. S›riputta, “With the remainderless fading & cessation of the six contact-media [vision, hearing, smell, taste, touch, & intellection], is it the case that there is anything else?”

[Ven. S›riputta:] “Don’t say that, my friend.”

[Ven. Mah›Ko˛˛hita:] “With the remainderless fading & cessation of the six contact-media, is it the case that there is not anything else?”

[Ven. S›riputta:] “Don’t say that, my friend.”

[Ven. Mah›Ko˛˛hita:] “…is it the case that there both is & is not anything else?”

[Ven. S›riputta:] “Don’t say that, my friend.”

[Ven. Mah›Ko˛˛hita:] “…is it the case that there neither is nor is not anything else?”

[Ven. S›riputta:] “Don’t say that, my friend.”

[Ven. Mah›Ko˛˛hita:] “Being asked if, with the remainderless fading & cessation of the six contact-media, there is anything else, you say, ‘Don’t say that, my friend.’ Being asked if… there is not anything else… there both is & is not anything else… there neither is nor is not anything else, you say, ‘Don’t say that, my friend.’ Now, how is the meaning of your words to be understood?”

[Ven. S›riputta:] “The statement, ‘With the remainderless fading & cessation of the six contact-media is it the case that there is anything else?’ objectifies the non-objectified. The statement, ‘… is it the case that there is not anything else…

is it the case that there both is & is not anything else… is it the case that there neither is nor is not anything else?’ objectifies the non-objectified. However far the six contact-media go, that is how far objectification goes. However far objectification goes, that is how far the six contact media go. With the remainderless fading & cessation of the six contact-media, there comes to be the cessation of objectification, the stilling of objectification.” — AN 4:173

CHAPTER NINE

A Path of Questions

In the course of this book we have frequently noted the close connection between the how and the what in the Buddha’s teaching. How he taught was shaped by what he taught, and what he taught was shaped by how. The reason this connection is so close is because what he taught was a how: a path of practice, a set of skills aimed at a very particular goal. Even the views that explain the path and form its first factor were chosen for their beneficial, pragmatic value in helping make progress on the path. These truths are thus instrumental and teleological—to be used as means to the goal of putting an end to suffering and stress.

The Buddha’s conception of his act of teaching these truths was thus also teleological: His primary concern was with the effect that his words would have on his listeners. In this way, his approach was rhetorical rather than dialectical.

Instead of seeing words as primarily descriptive—talking about things—he saw them as performative: doing things, having an effect on their listeners. And like any rhetorician, he found it most effective to teach not only by word but also by example. Thus he was careful to teach in a way that illustrated what he was trying to teach.

This was especially true in the way he handled questions. As we noted in the Introduction, a practical question expresses a desire for knowledge that fits a certain shape and function: the shape determined by what makes sense in terms of what we

already

know or

control, the

function by

what we

want the

knowledge to do. The fact that questions provide a shape for the knowledge connects directly with the role of right view on the path, which is to act as a frame for experience—not only providing knowledge about the issues of skillful and unskillful action, together

with the

truths of stress, its origination, its

cessation, and the path to cessation; but also showing how to view experience in terms of these categories. This means that the ability to frame questions in terms of right view is an essential part of the path. The fact that questions express desires connects both with the truth of the origination of stress—the three forms of craving that lead to further becoming—and with the factor of right effort in the truth of the path, which includes the act of generating desire to abandon unskillful qualities and to develop skillful ones in their place. This means that skill in questions has to be mastered in order to encourage appropriate forms of the desire for knowledge, leading to the end of suffering, and to avoid inappropriate forms that would lead in the other direction.

This is why

the

Buddha emphasized the

ability

to

respond skillfully

to

questions as an important measure of wisdom and discernment. To illustrate this principle, he not only described four strategies for responding to questions but also employed all four in the course of his teaching career. These responsestrategies play an important role in establishing and clarifying the frame of right view. Categorical responses show that the questions they address are already framed in appropriate terms; analytical responses show which factors have to be added to questions inadequately framed in order to bring them into line; crossquestioning responses show how unexpected subtleties in the frame of right view can be understood through comparison with skills and activities with which the listener is already familiar; and the response of putting a question aside shows that the question is so improperly framed that it needs to be totally abandoned before one can start over with the proper frame.

However, in addition to establishing the frame of right view, the Buddha’s skill in questions also taught how to test that frame and its application through the subset of cross-questioning that we have termed self cross-examination. This, in fact, is the approach that determines whether the answers provided by the frame of right view actually perform the desired function of putting an end to suffering and stress.

To understand the interaction among these various response-strategies, it’s useful to

look

at them

in the

larger

context of the

Buddha’s approach to

questions, taken as a whole, in the various forms we have encountered in this book. This enables us to see the broader outlines of his rhetorical strategy in demonstrating

not

only

the

discernment needed

skillfully

to

employ

the

categories of right view and skillful questioning, but also the qualities of heart and mind needed to respond wisely to those questions and thus bring the entire path to fruition.

Taking this perspective, we can see that there were at least seven types of questions that played a role in the Buddha’s discovery and teaching of the path.

1) The primary question to which the path is a response.

2) The bodhisatta’s own questions in which he asked himself why he was acting in a particular way.

3) The questions with which he proposed another course of action.

4) The questions that established the frame of right view and appropriate attention.

5) The questions that refined that frame.

6) The questions that tested that frame by applying it to specific actions, and tested specific actions against the frame.

7) The questions that induced the right attitudes and mental qualities needed to keep one on the path.

Many lessons about the path can be learned—and many mistaken notions corrected—by looking in more detail at these seven types of questions. These lessons cover not only the content of the right views the Buddha was trying to communicate, but also the qualities of the heart that need to be developed as an essential part of the practice.

1) As AN 6:63 (Chapter One) notes, one of the primary responses to stress is a question that expresses a search: “Who knows a way or two to stop this stress?” Although this question doesn’t necessarily call for a path to practice—it may

simply

indicate a desire for someone or something

else to

solve the

problem of stress from outside—the fact that the Buddha’s teaching is a response to this question establishes several important facts about the path he taught.

To begin with, it establishes the path’s obvious focus on putting an end to stress. This in turn establishes the teleological nature of the path: Its every aspect is aimed at a particular goal. In the simple fact of responding to this question, the Buddha indicated that the desire to know a way out of stress is something to be encouraged. He didn’t want people simply to accept things as they are, or to resign themselves to the thought, “That’s just the way it is.” He wanted them to recognize that something is wrong and to develop the conviction that it can be corrected—thus the role played by conviction not only as the first of the five faculties (SN 48:10), but also as the important turning point in the extended formula of dependent co-arising (SN 12:23) that treats the experience of stress as a motivating factor for developing the path to release.

The searching question cited in AN 6:63 also suggests that it’s possible to look to others for advice on what to do to put an end to stress. In fact, that is what the bodhisatta did at the beginning of his quest for awakening. Only when he came to the conclusion that no one at the time had the knowledge he was seeking did he try to find the path on his own. But even though he ultimately gained the knowledge he was seeking through his own efforts, he did not conclude that the search

for

someone

who

knows

is

totally

misguided. Having

gained

the

knowledge of how to go beyond stress, he was in a position to share it with others, at least to the extent of telling them what they needed to do to gain release from stress through their own efforts. In fact, as he later told Ven.

finanda (SN 45:2), if it weren’t for him as an admirable friend, the beings of the world wouldn’t even know the path, much less be able to follow it. Thus the ability to judge who is and isn’t an admirable friend is an essential skill in pursuing the path.

2) When the

Buddha described his quest

for

awakening

as a series of

responses to questions of the form, “Why am I doing this?” he was indicating the point at which the search for a way out of stress turns inward: the realization that stress may be caused by one’s own actions. He was also indicating that an important part of the path consists of the realization that one’s habits—and in particular, one’s intentions—are not to be blindly accepted or taken for granted.

They should be called into question and subjected to honest scrutiny. However, he also was indicating that not everything is to be questioned—in particular, conviction in the efficacy of action should be maintained as a working hypothesis all the way to release.

3) When the Buddha told how he followed the question, “Why am I doing this?” with the

question, “What if I were

to

do

something

else?” he

was

indicating the point where the notion of a path of practice actually begins to take shape: the realization that one can act in different ways and that, perhaps by changing one’s ways of acting, one can put an end to suffering and stress. This question also emphasizes the mind’s freedom to think of alternatives, to use imagination in proposing new ways of acting. The assumption of freedom of choice is what makes a holy life dedicated to the end of stress a genuine possibility.

4) The questions that establish the frame of right view are the ones with which we move from the story of the bodhisatta’s quest to the example set by the Buddha as a teacher. Establishing this frame is a primary function of three of the Buddha’s four response-strategies. Categorical answers do so simply by answering questions that are already properly framed; analytical answers, by adding whatever variables are necessary to approach the issue at hand from the proper frame; questions put aside (followed by different questions to establish the frame), by

drawing

a clear line between what does and what doesn’t correspond to the frame. In particular, in the course of employing this last strategy, the Buddha focuses on how the mental processes of objectification (papañca) encourage the terms of becoming—selves operating in worlds—and how questions derived from these terms get in the way of the path.

In contrast, the actual frame of right view and appropriate attention builds on the assumptions underlying the questions in categories (2) and (3) by looking at experience, not in terms of things, but in terms of actions and results. We noted above that the Buddha’s words are not simply descriptive, talking about things; it’s also true that teachings based on the frame of right view and appropriate attention are not talking about things. They talk about action and result, focusing attention on identifying which ways of acting are unskillful—leading to suffering and stress—and which are skillful, leading to the end of suffering and stress.

When

the

Buddha’s

responses to

questions

establish

this

frame, they

also

establish right view as an important element in the path—as a type of action needed for other skillful actions. They also establish the role of that frame as a set of instrumental truths used to analyze experience so as to determine the skillful response.

The fact that action—kamma—plays the primary role in establishing the frame of right view shows how important this teaching is in providing the context

for

understanding

all

aspects

of

what

the

especially

crucial

in

understanding

the

teaching

on

connection between not-self and kamma is approached by taking not-self as the frame, and kamma as a teaching that doesn’t fit into the frame: If all things are not-self, who performs an action and who will receive the results of the action?

Actually, the relationship between these two teachings goes the other way.

Kamma is the frame, and not-self the teaching that fits into the frame: When is it a skillful action to employ the perception of self? When is it a skillful action to employ the perception of not-self?

To view the teaching on not-self within the framework of kamma helps to clear up many of the issues that have developed around this teaching over the centuries. Buddhist philosophers, ignoring the message of SN 44:10 [§162] and MN 2 [§25] that questions about the existence and non-existence of the self should be put aside, have often tried to provide analytical answers to these questions—stating, for instance, that Yes, the self has conventional existence but No, not ultimate existence; that Yes, the self defined as impersonal phenomena, i.e., the five aggregates, does exist, but No, the self defined as a person doesn’t; or that No, there is no self, but Yes, there is an empirical personality and personal

continuity

after

death. More

modern

philosophers

have

offered

Buddha taught. This

is

not-self, for

often

the

analytical answers of their own, introducing the variables of individual self vs.

cosmic self, stating either that individual self does exist, whereas the cosmic self doesn’t; or—the exact opposite—that the individual self doesn’t exist whereas the cosmic self does.

All of these analytical answers, however, ignore the fact that the Buddha could have given an analytical answer to these questions had he wanted to—but he didn’t. They also all deal in terms of inappropriate attention and blatant objectification: categories of existence and non-existence, questions of how to define the “I” in “I am the thinker” over the course of the past, present, and future. As the discussions in Chapters Three and Eight have shown, the act of blatant objectification is a form of unskillful kamma that moves in the opposite direction from the duties of the four noble truths. Thus a more useful approach is to view the perceptions of self and not-self as actions in the context of dependent co-arising, to see how they do promote the duties of the four noble truths, and to put the analytical answers of the philosophers aside. In fact, this principle applies to

all the

perceptions and categories of blatant objectification: self/not-self; existence/non-existence. When questions of skillful kamma are framed on their most subtle level, in terms of dependent co-arising, they provide the framework by which these categories can be comprehended both as instances of stress and as

causes

of

stress. This

allows

for

their

abandoning. Then the terms of

dependent co-arising, having performed their function, can be abandoned as well.

Thus,

by

using

the

teaching

of

kamma

understanding, it’s

possible

to

gain

important

teachings on not-self and into other topics as well. For instance, on the issue of judging people: Given that the primal question in category (1) focuses on looking to others for help in the end of suffering, the Buddha regarded as an essential duty the ability to judge who might be a reliable guide on the path. Instead of viewing the act of judging others as inappropriate and inhumane, he saw it as absolutely central to the path. But because people tend to use inappropriate categories in judging others, he used analytical answers to show that other people are to be judged primarily, not as to their ultimate worth, but simply as to their helpfulness in one’s own search for skillfulness. At the same time, they are to be judged not by their status, race, or occupation, but by the skillfulness of their actions. And to be able accurately to judge the integrity of others, one has to develop one’s own integrity as well.

The

Buddha’s lessons on kamma appear not only in the content of his responses

to

questions, but

also

in

responded. The

simple

fact

that

he

principle of action is such that the act of asking others for advice can be a helpful part of the path. He expanded on this point in the several discourses where he suggested going to experienced people to gain advice on how to act [§§43-44, §131]. However, the nature of the advice he gave—and that he said should be expected from

others—shows

that

a teacher

cannot

get

rid

of

stress

and

suffering for another person, that each person also has to cooperate by acting on that advice. This utilizes one of the windows of opportunity provided by the as

the

primary

frame

of

insights

into

the

Buddha’s

the

values

he

taught

by

the

way

he

answered

questions

indicates

that

the

Buddha’s teaching on kamma: Even though one’s experience is shaped primarily by one’s own actions, this does not preclude one’s benefiting from the help of others. The proper use of this opportunity lies in approaching the act of teaching and learning the path to the end of stress as a cooperative effort.

The Buddha’s care in responding to questions in these ways shows some of the qualities needed in this cooperative effort. By teaching only truths that are beneficial, and by taking care to ensure that his responses were appropriate to his listeners, he showed that compassion is needed for teaching and learning to succeed. He also showed compassion in observing the etiquette of not harming himself or others—not exalting himself or disparaging others by name—in the course of his teaching. By giving displeasing answers when they were timely, he showed that compassion has to be responsible: It’s not a matter of giving the listeners what they want or making them feel good. Instead, it requires keeping their long-term benefit foremost in mind.

The Buddha’s general openness to being cross-questioned on his teachings was also an object lesson in the compassionate sense of responsibility he brought to the act of teaching. As we have noted, a teacher not open to cross-questioning is guilty of objectifying himself and his audience. A teacher who welcomes crossquestioning is concerned less with his status as a teacher—and his teaching as a finished product—and more with the communication of something useful and clear. Thus the act of teaching is part of a process leading to a goal, rather than an exposition of the goal itself. In honoring his listeners’ freedom to question in the course of this process, the Buddha opened the discussion to their subjective experience of doubt. He also honored their desire to know about the skills needed to end that doubt and to attain release from their subjective experience of suffering and stress. At the same time, he avoided many of the conflicts implicit in blatant objectification by offering his teachings less as a set body of knowledge about people and the world to be imposed on those people and their worlds, than as an array of tools that his listeners were free to take or leave as they pleased.

5) The questions that refine the frame of right view include those that, asking for details about the terms of right view and appropriate attention, deserve categorical responses; those that deserve analytical responses showing how even categorical teachings have to be applied differently to listeners with different levels of skill; and those that deserve to be cross-questioned with reference to hypothetical analogies and examples to show how the frame of skillful and unskillful action should be called to mind and applied to areas where the listeners don’t understand how to do so on their own. The frame of right view is also refined

by

the

questions

of

self

cross-examination

that

the

Buddha

recommended be applied to one’s specific actions, all the way to the action of assuming a sense of self and other subtle forms of clinging.

The extent to which the Buddha had to explain and refine the frame of skillful and

unskillful

kamma—especially

through

analytical

responses

and

crossquestioning about hypotheticals dealing with actions and skills—shows that his listeners had trouble understanding the implications of his concept of kamma.

This in turn suggests that it was new to them. In other words, even though the word kamma was something the Buddha picked up from his environment, his understanding of kamma was not. This point is underlined by the fact that he went out of his way to refute the teachings of those who taught a deterministic version of the doctrine of kamma. In doing so, he revealed a second window of opportunity

in

the

principle

of

kamma: that

even

though

actions

have

consequences, sometimes imposing severe limitations on the choices available at any given moment, one is always free within those limitations to follow the skillful path toward the end of stress and suffering through one’s choice of what to do in the present.

The Buddha’s responses to these questions also demonstrated in action the extra levels of refinement in the compassion and sense of responsibility that he brought to the act of teaching—and that he expected his listeners to bring to the act of learning. In particular, the way he used hypotheticals in cross-questioning his listeners was an object lesson in the need for truthfulness and mutual respect.

By recognizing the special skills and knowledge his listeners brought with them, he induced an attitude of respect in return.

The way he engaged in arguments also taught many lessons in respect. To begin with, he was willing to enter into discussion only with people whom he trusted and respected to have a sincere desire for the truth. His purpose in engaging in debates was not to score points but to clear up his opponent’s misunderstandings. In fact, the way he used hypotheticals in cross-questioning his

opponents—a strategy

he

used

elsewhere

to

clarify

difficult

points

of

doctrine—showed that debate, for him, was principally a matter of clarification.

The aggressiveness with which he pursued his points, however, showed that respect was not necessarily a matter of honoring other people’s points of view.

Instead, when combined with compassion and a sense of responsibility, true respect means the desire not to leave one’s opponent mired in wrong views, for views of that sort can have dire consequences. In the same way that he saw strict enforcement of the rules of the Vinaya as an expression of compassion, he saw the rigorous uprooting of wrong view in his opponents as an act both of kindness and respect.

6) The questions of self cross-examination test the frame of right view in action—to see if it really does aid in eliminating stress—at the same time testing actions against the frame of right view, to see if they actually follow the path. In this process one cross-questions oneself about one’s actions to see how they fit against the frame, from the common level of words and deeds to the subtlest levels within the mind: testing acts of perception, such as perceptions of self and cosmos. Self cross-examination also checks one’s progress on the path, both as a means of testing the path and as a means of gauging one’s skill in following it.

This

process

helps

to

develop

the

analysis

of

qualities

as

a factor

of

awakening

(dhamma-vicaya-sambojjhaºga). At

the

same

time, it

starves

the

hindrance of uncertainty, and in doing so responds to the bewilderment that is often the result of suffering and stress. The fact that doubt is overcome and conviction established by exploring and testing—and not by simply denying doubt or waiting for it to go away on its own—shows the confidence the Buddha had in his teachings: that they would withstand any sincere test. It also shows the active role of discernment, not as a set of propositions to be simply accepted or cloned, but as an active faculty to be developed through skillful inquiry.

Self cross-examination succeeds in producing insights—and, in some cases, precipitating total release—by helping one to look at familiar events in a new frame. The fact that one is able to choose one’s frame of understanding, and not simply take it for granted, is another expression of freedom. And the fact that total freedom comes from applying appropriate attention to one’s actions makes an important point about the focus of the practice: that the freedom of total release is to be found by exploring—through exercising—one’s moment-tomoment freedom to choose to act skillfully.

In testing one’s actions, the questions of self cross-examination set the bar for gauging one’s skillfulness progressively higher and higher. They start with the simple aim of not harming oneself and others, progress through the aim of bringing the mind to a point where it is ready to face death at any moment, and finally aim at erasing craving and clinging of every sort. The more basic levels of these questions deal in terms of “I” and “mine,” while the more advanced are aimed at dismantling any need for those

perceptions. These questions thus

establish the fact that the path goes through many stages, and that concepts and perceptions useful at one stage of the path may need to be abandoned later.

Thus the consistency

of the path lies, not in an adherence to

a consistent

vocabulary or set of first principles, but in the common goal to which all of its stages are aimed.

7) The questions that induce the right attitudes and mental qualities needed to keep

one

on

the

path

are

another

subset

of

the

questions

of

self

crossexamination. On a preliminary level, these questions encourage a healthy type of conceit and craving needed to get one started on the path to mastery. When that mastery has reached the point where conceit and craving are no longer needed to stay on the path, a more advanced level of cross-questioning focuses on uprooting any remaining conceit and craving that would block further progress.

The most basic attitudes encouraged by this type of cross-questioning are compassion, integrity, and truthfulness. Compassion is needed in that the goal of putting an end to stress and suffering, and to find a happiness without blame, is essentially a compassionate quest aimed at one’s own well-being and that of all others. Integrity and truthfulness are needed to stick with the skillful path because defilements can easily disguise themselves under the cloak of delusion and denial, and the habit of denying any unskillful elements in one’s actions and intentions is delusion in its most pernicious and tenacious form. There are times when the frames of objectification aid in this denial and become a form of avoidance, acting as a cover for attachment. Thus truthfulness is needed to dig out and expose that attachment for what it is.

Self cross-examination also works together with the cross-questioning of hypotheticals to encourage mindfulness and alertness: mindfulness in calling to mind useful frameworks of thinking and understanding; alertness in applying these standards to examining one’s actions—physical, verbal, and mental—in the present moment.

Finally, the most crucial attitude fostered by the questions of self crossexamination is that of heedfulness. As the Buddha pointed out, all skillfulness— including the skill of questions—is rooted in heedfulness. People become skillful not through any innate goodness of the mind, but by clearly realizing—and taking to heart—the danger of unskillful action and the benefits of skillful action.

The questions of self cross-examination are meant to keep this realization firmly in mind and to bring it to bear in all one’s activities. When heedfulness is combined with

the

understanding

of

right

view, as

encouraged

by

the

framework of skillful questioning, it gives rise to right effort. When combined with the mindfulness and alertness encouraged by skillful cross-questioning, right effort—in the form of ardency—completes the set of qualities needed to bring right mindfulness and right concentration to the culmination of their development.

Right mindfulness and right concentration, in turn, allow the mind to become more sensitive to

even its subtlest actions. As the principle of heedfulness continues to inform the process of self cross-examination into these actions, it first strips away any attachment to activities that lie outside of the path. Then it helps to root out any traces of unskillfulness, any remnants of I-making or mymaking, that may still hover around the mastery of the path factors themselves.

This is what ultimately frees the mind from all the activities of objectification and attachment, even in their subtlest forms.

In these ways, skill in questions helps to foster a cluster of skillful mental qualities that, acting in concert, form a path leading to the primary aim of the Buddha’s act of teaching: a dimension beyond action, total release.

AP P E N DI X ON E

Buddhaghosa on the four categories of questions Writing in the fifth century C.E., Buddhaghosa—the primary commentator of the Theravada tradition—explained the Buddha’s four categories of questions in terms of the formal or logical structure of the question.

“If asked, ‘Is the eye inconstant?’ one should answer categorically, ‘Yes, it’s inconstant.’ This pattern [holds] with regard to the ear, etc. This is the categorical question. If asked, ‘Does inconstant mean eye?’ one should answer analyzing, ‘Not just the eye; the ear is also inconstant, the nose is also inconstant.’ This is an analytical question. If asked, for example, ‘Is the eye like the ear? Is the ear like the eye?’ and one cross-questions, ‘In what sense are you asking?’ then if told, ‘I am asking in the sense of seeing,’ one should answer, ‘No.’ If told, ‘I am asking in the sense of inconstancy,’ one should answer, ‘Yes.’ This is a cross-questioning question. When asked, for example, ‘Is the soul the same thing as the body?’ one should put it aside, (saying,) ‘This is unanswered by the Blessed One.’ This question is not to be answered. This is a question to be put aside. Thus the form in which the question is presented is the measure of the four ways of answering questions. It is under the guidance of these [categories] that a question should be answered.” — Commentary to DN 33 [emphasis added] From this perspective, a question deserving a categorical answer is one that, in formal terms, reads, “ Is all A, B?” (“Are all tigers striped animals?”) This type of question can be clearly answered Yes or No.

The next two categories of questions are those that could lead the answerer to being trapped in a logical fallacy, and so must be treated analytically or with a cross-question to avoid the trap. The question deserving an analytical answer is one that—after establishing that all A is B—asks, “Is all B, A?” (“Are all striped animals tigers?”) The trap here would be, “If all A is B, then all B is A” (e.g., “If all tigers are striped animals, then all striped animals are tigers;” “If the eye is inconstant, then all inconstant things are the eye”). Thus an analytical answer would show that inconstancy covers other things beside the eye as well: “All A is B, but not all B is A.”

The question deserving cross-questioning is one that has to be clarified before it can be answered. Thus the cross-question is simply, “What do you mean?”

Buddhaghosa’s example is of a question that could lead to the trap, “If all A is B, and all C is B, then if all A is also D, all C is also D” (e.g., “If all tigers are striped animals and all zebras are striped animals, then if all tigers are cats, all zebras are cats;” “If the eye is inconstant and the ear is inconstant, then if the eye sees, the ear sees”). The cross-question is necessary to clarify the sense of the question and to make the point that even though the eye and ear are similar in some ways, that does not mean that they are similar in all ways: “All A is B and all C is B; all A is also D, but it is not the case that all C is also D.”

Unlike

his

handling

of

the

second

and

third

categories, Buddhaghosa

illustrates the fourth category with an example from the Canon—one of the ten “undeclared issues” (avy›kata-dhamma)—but this leads him to an inconsistency.

Although he says that the form of the question is what determines the responsestrategy it deserves, there is nothing about the formal structure of this question to indicate why it falls into a separate category. He simply notes that because the Buddha put it aside it should stay there.

However, in

terms

of

the

first

Buddhaghosa—and the tradition he draws from—is thinking in terms of the

questions and logical traps encountered in formal debate, especially of the sort that shaped the way the commentarial tradition evolved. Thus these categories are

determined

strictly

by

their

logical

form. The

difficulty

in

accepting

Buddhaghosa’s interpretation here is that the Buddha never engaged in formal debates of this sort, and there is no record in the Pali Canon of his ever encountering the types of question that Buddhaghosa uses to explain the second and

third

categories. Also, Buddhaghosa’s

example

of

a cross-questioning

question comes nowhere near to doing full justice to the many ways in which the Buddha used and encouraged cross-questioning in the discourses. Thus it is

unlikely that Buddhaghosa’s examples—and the definitions determining their classification—correspond to what the Buddha had in mind when formulating his four

response-strategies, and

they

certainly

don’t

reflect

the

use

of

these

strategies in the Buddha’s hands.

three

categories, it

is

obvious

that

AP P E N DI X TWO

Mnemonic Questions

In

the

culture

of

the

Buddha’s

time, writing

was

used

for

calculating,

accounting,

and

other

business

and

government

transactions, but

not

for

recording

spiritual teachings. Perhaps it

was considered too lowly for this

purpose or too unreliable: Scribal errors could easily creep into a teaching and not be recognized as such. A great deal of effort was thus put into finding mnemonic

devices

to

help

students

memorize

large

bodies

of

spiritual

teachings—in particular, the traditions of the Vedas. At the same time, groups of students were taught to memorize together as a way of compensating for the vagaries of each individual memory. Thus by the Buddha’s time, Indian culture had developed a sophisticated tradition for training people to develop the mental skills needed to maintain spiritual teachings accurately from one generation to the next.

Working within this culture, the Buddha presented his teachings so that they would be easy both to memorize and to understand. His use of questions was geared to help accomplish both of these aims. In this book, we have focused on questions framed primarily for the sake of understanding, and secondarily for memorization, but the Buddha also employed questions in which these priorities were reversed: either as a way of introducing basic topics for new students to memorize, or as a mnemonic aid for those who had already come to understand the teachings but needed help in trying to remember them. Strictly speaking, these questions all fall under the category of categorical questions, but because of their special purpose and the special issues surrounding them, I am treating them separately in this appendix.

The primary mnemonic device in these questions is the use of numbers. In this, these questions are obviously connected to a common opening questionformat in the Buddha’s discourses: “Nandaka, a disciple of the noble ones endowed with four qualities is a stream-winner… Which four?” “Monks, there are these five faculties. Which five?” These numerical introductions clearly serve a mnemonic function, but the discourses they introduce differ from purely mnemonic ones in that the factors in their lists of four, five, etc., are organically related.

In the mnemonic discourses, however, the relationship among the factors is purely

numerical, with

one

factor

bearing

little

if

any

relationship

to

its

neighbors aside from the fact that they share the same number of sub-factors or fall into a numerical sequence. For this reason, these discourses do not follow the Buddha’s instructions in §8, that a Dhamma teacher should speak explaining the sequence, but perhaps these discourses were not considered Dhamma talks. As DN 33 suggests, they may have been designed for the monks to chant together, as a way of providing successive generations with short compendia of the major teachings.

On the shorter end of the spectrum, these mnemonic discourses consist of brief riddles—or riddles implicit in cryptic statements:

Having killed mother & father,

two learned kings,

&, fifth, a tiger—

the brahman, untroubled, travels on. — Dhp 295 Cut through five,

let go of five,

& develop five above all.

A monk gone past five attachments

is said to have crossed the flood. — Dhp 370 On

the

longer

end

of the spectrum, mnemonic discourses are arranged around architectonic questionnaires that

organize

large

bodies of

disparate

materials in a numerical way. The prime examples here are DN 33 & 34, both of which are attributed to Ven. S›riputta.

The questions framing mnemonic discourses fall into two broad categories:

those that do not provide a framework for understanding the answer, and those that do. DN 33, for example, falls into the first category, in that the basic framework of its organizing questions is purely numerical.

“There are [set(s) of]

x thing(s) rightly proclaimed by the Blessed One—who knows, who sees, worthy, & rightly self-awakened—that we should all recite together, without quarreling, so that this holy life might endure and last for a long time, for the welfare of the many, the happiness of the many, out of sympathy for the world, for the welfare & happiness of human & divine beings. Which [set(s) of] x thing(s)?”

Each of these questions—in which

x ranges from one to ten—is then followed

by a list of lists, with little if anything in the framework of the discourse to indicate how the individual lists are to be used in the practice.

However, in

DN

34 the

framework

questions

call

for

a rudimentary

understanding of the lists given in response, in that they are organized not only by number but also by function.

“Which

x thing(s) is/are very helpful? … Which x thing(s) should be developed? … Which x thing(s) should be comprehended? … Which x thing(s) should be abandoned? … Which x thing(s) is/are on the side of decline? … Which x thing(s) is/are on the side of distinction? … Which x thing(s) is/are hard to penetrate? … Which x thing(s) should be made to arise? … Which x thing(s) should be directly known? … Which x thing(s) should be realized?”

Here again, in each set of questions,

x ranges from one through ten. And

even though the answers in each set of x are related only by number, the fact that the lists are sorted by function gives more coherence to the discourse and makes it more useful in practice.

This distinction between mnemonic questions that are purely numerical and those that provide a context in addition to number occurs in other discourses as well. Perhaps the most interesting examples of this distinction occur in the three discourses that discuss in detail a set of ten questions that apparently served as a sort of catechism in the early Buddhist Saºgha.

The simplest statement of this catechism is Khp 4, The Novice’s Questions:

What is one? All animals subsist on nutriment.

What is two? Name & form.

What is three? Three types of feeling.

What is four? Four noble truths.

What is five? Five clinging-aggregates.

What is six? Six internal sense media.

What is seven? Seven factors for awakening.

What is eight? The noble eightfold path.

What is nine? The nine abodes for beings.

What is ten? Endowed with ten qualities, one is called an arahant.

In

this

version

of

the

catechism, the

questions

are

purely

numerical,

functioning

simply

to

test one’s memory

of basic Buddhist terms, without

providing a framework for understanding what those terms mean and how to use

them

in

practice. Apparently

employed

in

a

situation

where

understanding, drawing

on

other

example, to explain the nine abodes of beings, the teacher could quote from DN 15:

this

version

of

the

catechism

would

be

the

teacher

could

then

provide

this

discourses

to

explain

the

answers. For

“There are beings with diversity of body and diversity of perception, such as human beings, some devas, and some beings in the lower realms.

This is the first station of consciousness.

“There are beings with diversity of body and singularity of perception, such as the devas of the Brahm› hosts generated by the first [jh›na]. This is the second station of consciousness.

“There are beings with singularity of body and diversity of perception, such as the Radiant Devas. This is the third station of consciousness.

“There are beings with singularity of body and singularity of perception, such as the Beautiful Black Devas. This is the fourth station of consciousness.

“There are beings who, with the complete transcending of perceptions of (physical) form, with the disappearance of perceptions of resistance, and not heeding perceptions of diversity, (perceiving,) ‘Infinite space,’ arrive at the dimension of the infinitude of space. This is the fifth station of consciousness.

“There are beings who, with the complete transcending of the dimension of the infinitude of space, (perceiving,) ‘Infinite consciousness,’ arrive at the dimension of the infinitude of consciousness. This is the sixth station of consciousness.

“There are beings who, with the complete transcending of the dimension of the infinitude of consciousness, (perceiving,) ‘There is nothing,’ arrive at the dimension of nothingness. This is the seventh station of consciousness.

“The dimension of non-percipient beings and, second, the dimension of neither perception nor non-perception. These are the two dimensions.”

To explain the ten qualities of the arahant, the teacher could quote from AN 10:112:

“Monks, there are these ten qualities of one beyond training. Which ten? the right view of one beyond training, the right resolve of one beyond training, the right speech of one beyond training, the right action of one beyond training, the right livelihood of one beyond training, the right effort of one beyond training, the right mindfulness of one beyond training, the right concentration of one beyond training, the right knowledge of one beyond training, the right release of one beyond training.”

Thus the

questions of the Novice’s Questions require a teaching context before they can provide understanding. On their own, they simply provide aids in memorizing basic Buddhist vocabulary.

SN 41:8 contains what is apparently a reference to the ten Novice’s Questions.

In that discourse, Citta the householder—after a brief but fruitless conversation with Niga˚˛ha N›˛aputta—states that Niga˚˛ha N›˛aputta and his following would be fit to engage with him in discussion only when they learn the meaning of these ten questions. However, Citta’s reference to the questions provides no context for understanding their answers. In fact, he doesn’t even state what the questions or answers are.

[Citta:] “These ten righteous questions have come up, venerable sir.

When you learn their meaning, then you—together with your Niga˚˛ha company—can argue with me.

“One question, one synopsis, one answer. Two questions, two synopses, two answers. Three questions… Four questions… Five… Six…

Seven… Eight… Nine… Ten questions, ten synopses, ten answers.”

Then having entrusted [›pucchitv›] these ten questions to Niga˚˛ha N›˛aputta, Citta the householder got up from his seat and left.

Citta’s reference to the questions is not only cryptic, but—if he really is referring to the Novice’s Questions—a little misleading. He seems to indicate that each

set

contains

an

ever-increasing

number

of

questions, synopses, and

answers, whereas in fact each set contains only a single question, etc., about topics that have increasing numbers in their answers.

The fact that he is referring to these questions is supported by AN 10:27 and AN 10:28, which provide two alternative ways of explaining Citta’s reference by following a form similar to that of the Novice’s Questions. Their major difference from the Novice’s Questions is that their framing questions actually provide a context for understanding the meaning and purpose of the answers. Scholars have noted that the answers to the questions in these two discourses are the same in some cases and not in others; and that the answers in both contain similarities and differences with those in the Novice’s Questions. What they have failed to note is that, in the cases where the answers differ, it’s because the questions do.

Neither

discourse

explicitly

explains

Citta’s

threefold

analysis—question,

synopsis, and answer—but they both show it in the way they organize each set.

This organization can be illustrated by one of the sets they have in common, the first:

“’One question, one synopsis, one answer.’ Thus was it said. With reference to what was it said? Rightly being disenchanted, rightly being dispassioned, rightly released, rightly seeing the total end, rightly breaking through with regard to one thing, a monk is one who puts an end to stress. With regard to which one thing?”

That much is the question.

“All animals subsist on nutriment.”

That is the synopsis.

“Rightly disenchanted, rightly dispassioned, rightly released, rightly seeing the total end, rightly breaking through with regard to this one thing, a monk is one who puts an end to stress.”

That is the answer—although it might be better to say that the synopsis is part of the answer as well.

In AN 10:27, the Buddha is the speaker giving the explanation, and in every case the question takes the same form:

“Rightly disenchanted, rightly dispassioned, rightly released, rightly seeing the total end, rightly breaking through with regard to x thing(s), a monk is one who puts an end to stress. With regard to which x thing(s)?”

The synopses in the answers are these:

One: All animals subsist on nutriment.

Two: Name and form.

Three: Three feelings.

Four: Four nutriments.

Five: Five clinging-aggregates.

Six: Six internal sense media.

Seven: Seven stations of consciousness.

Eight: Eight worldly conditions.

Nine: Nine abodes of beings.

Ten: Ten unskillful action-paths.

Of these sets, only the fourth and the eighth are not explained in this book.

The fourth set is explained in SN 12:64:

“There are these four nutriments for the establishing of beings who have taken birth or for the support of those in search of a place to be born. Which four? Physical nutriment, gross or refined; contact as the second, intellectual intention the third, and consciousness the fourth.”

The eighth set is explained in AN 8:6:

“Monks, these eight worldly conditions spin after the world, and the world spins after these eight worldly conditions. Which eight? Gain, loss, status, disgrace, censure, praise, pleasure, & pain.” [See §55.] The ten unskillful action-paths are the same as the ten unskillful types of action listed in §28.

From the perspective of the discussion in Chapter Three, what’s noteworthy about the questions in this version of the catechism is that their framework calls for answers that fall under the duties to be followed with regard to the first and second noble truths. In other words, these are all things to be comprehended to the point of dispassion, after which they can be abandoned. As for the answers, they are all expressed in terms of different levels of appropriate attention. One, four, and seven through ten are expressed in terms of mundane right view, dealing with beings, skillful and unskillful actions, the factors that can motivate unskillful action (eight), and the results—in this life and the next—to which the various levels of skill can lead (seven through ten). Two, three, five, and six are expressed in terms of the factors of dependent co-arising.

In AN 10:28, a group of householders in Kajaºgal› ask a bhikkhunı identified only as “the Kajaºgal› bhikkhunı” about the catechism, and she—stating that she has never had the chance to hear this teaching directly from the Buddha— gives an explanation of her own. She frames the questions for the numbers one, two, three, and nine in exactly the same way as the Buddha does in AN 10:27:

“Rightly disenchanted, rightly dispassioned, rightly released, rightly seeing the total end, rightly breaking through with regard to x thing(s), a monk is one who puts an end to stress. With regard to which x thing(s)?”

Her answers to these questions are thus the same as his. However, for the numbers

four, five, six, seven, eight, and

ten, she

frames

the

questions

differently:

“With a mind rightly developed, rightly seeing the total end, rightly breaking through with regard to x thing(s), a monk is one who puts an end to stress. With regard to which x thing(s)?”

In terms of the four noble truths, this framework calls for answers that fit under the truth of the path—as something to be developed—and these are the answers the Kajaºgal› bhikkhkunı provides:

Four: the four establishings of mindfulness.

Five: the five faculties.

Six: the six properties leading to escape.

Seven: the seven factors for awakening.

Eight: the noble eightfold path.

Ten: the ten skillful action-paths.

Of these answers, only the sixth set is not explained in this book. DN 33 explains it as follows:

“This is the escape from ill will, i.e., the good-will awareness release…

This is the escape from harmfulness, i.e., the compassion awareness release… This is the escape from resentment, i.e., the empathetic-joy awareness release… This is the escape from passion, i.e., the equanimity awareness release… This is the escape from themes [of concentration], i.e., the themeless awareness release… This is the escape from the arrow of uncertainty & perplexity, i.e., the destruction of the conceit ‘I am.’”

As for the five faculties, they are listed in the footnote to §112.

After learning the Kajaºgal› bhikkhkunı’s explanation of the catechism, the householders of Kajaºgal› go to the Buddha and report what she said. The Buddha praises her discernment, and states that he would have given the same explanation as she.

Thus in all three versions of the catechism, the answers are given in terms that

derive

from

appropriate

attention. And

despite

their

differences, the

answers are all “right.” Their differences can be attributed to the fact that some of

the

individual questions

are

framed in

different

ways, with

the

special

difference being that in Khp 4, the questions are purely numerical, providing no framework for understanding, whereas in AN 10:27 and AN 10:28, the questions do provide such a framework, at least in rudimentary terms. And it can be argued that that element of understanding could also function as a memory aid, in that something you understand is easier to memorize than something you don’t.

All

three

versions

of

the

catechism

are

obviously

useful

for

passing

information on to future generations, in that they present some of the Buddha’s most central teachings in a short, easy to memorize form. But that is not their only function. Given that mindfulness—the ability to keep something in mind— is a crucial factor of the path, these versions of the catechism are also useful as teachings to be kept in mind while practicing. This point is supported by the fact that many of the answers to the catechism, in its various versions, are included as topics of contemplation in The Greater Establishing of Mindfulness Discourse

(DN

22—§33): the

three

types

of

feeling, the

four

noble

truths, the

four

establishings of mindfulness, the five clinging-aggregates, the six internal sense media, the seven factors for awakening, and the noble eightfold path.

AP P E N DI X T H RE E