法苑珠林 41.40

41.40

As the Sūtra of the Wise and the Foolish says: At that time, after the Buddha had gone forth from household life, the Buddha's maternal aunt Mahāprajāpatī personally spun and wove in advance a bolt of golden-colored fine cloth (woven into a great robe) to offer to the Tathāgata. The Buddha told her to take it and offer it to the assembly of monks. The maternal aunt thought: 'My heart’s intention was set on the Buddha. I only pray you deign to take pity and accept it for my sake.' The Buddha knew her maternal mind was dedicated to giving it to him; however, from a mind of affectionate attachment the merit is not broad. 'If you give it to the assembly of monks, the retribution obtained will be far greater. Knowing this matter, I therefore encourage you. If a dānapati individually invites [monks] among sixteen kinds of categories, though they obtain karmic reward it is still not great. What are the sixteen? Bhikṣus and bhikṣuṇīs each have eight classes. This is not as good as indiscriminately inviting four people; the merit and benefit gained will be far greater than that, not even one part in sixteen. In the future end-period when the Dharma is on the verge of extinction, even if bhikṣus keep wives and harbor children, if four or more bear the name of the saṃgha, you should revere them as Śāriputra, Maudgalyāyana, and the like.' At that time, Prajāpatī's mind opened to understanding, and she immediately offered the robe to the assembly of monks. Going down the rows in the saṃgha, none wished to take it. When it reached Maitreya, he immediately accepted it for her sake. At that time, Maitreya asked the assembly of monks: 'If a dānapati invites one pure, precept-observing śramaṇa to their home for an offering, how does the profit obtained compare to someone gaining ten million coins?' Thereupon Kauṇḍinya immediately said: 'Suppose someone obtained a hundred carts of precious jewels: reckoning their merit and benefit, it would not be as great as inviting one pure-precept śramaṇa to their home for an offering, which yields far greater profit.' Śāriputra said: 'Suppose someone obtained a whole Jambudvīpa filled with precious jewels: it would still not be as great as inviting one pure-precept practitioner to their home for an offering, which secures far greater profit.' Maudgalyāyana said: 'Even if someone obtained two continents filled with the seven treasures: it would still not be as great as inviting one pure śramaṇa to their home for an offering, which secures far greater profit.' The remaining bhikṣus similarly each adduced analogies to compare the benefits, all showing that [inviting a monk] was greater. At that time, Aniruddha further said himself: 'Even if one obtained the four continents filled with treasures, the benefit would still not equal that of inviting one pure śramaṇa to one's home for an offering, which yields many times more benefit. Why is this? I am witness to it. I recall in a past life, after Vipaśyin Buddha's parinirvāṇa, when the Dharma was completely extinct, there was an elder named Aruṭa. His family was impoverished and distressed. Furthermore, he encountered a year of scarcity when people were starving and grain supplies failed. Daily he went out to gather firewood, selling it to buy barnyard millet, sustaining himself along with his wife and child. He saw a pratyekabuddha begging for food and receiving none. He invited him to his house, divided his barnyard millet gruel, and personally offered it to him. The pratyekabuddha said to him: "You too are hungry and thirsty; we should share and eat it together." Aruṭa said: "We secular folk have no fixed times for eating; the Venerable One eats once a day. I only wish you will accept it." Having received and eaten the food, [the pratyekabuddha] was moved by his utmost sincerity and caused him to make a great vow. Then the pratyekabuddha returned to his dwelling. At that time, Aruṭa returned to the marsh to gather firewood. Then he saw a hare and wished to catch it; throwing his sickle from afar, it instantly fell to the ground. Just as he went forward to take it, it transformed into a dead man, mounted his back, and tightly hugged his head. Straining with all his might to push it away, he could not dislodge it. Filled with terror, agitation, and suffering, he intended to enter the city so that he and his wife could remove it; but fearing people would see it and not allow him to enter, he waited until nightfall, covered it with clothes, and carried it home on his back. Having arrived inside his home, it naturally fell to the ground and turned into a heap of Jāmbūnada gold, its radiant light shining brightly onto the neighboring houses. As people talked about it among themselves, the report reached the king. The king came in person to see it, and saw that it was a corpse gradually beginning to rot. He then asked Aruṭa: "What do you see this to be?" He replied: "Looking at it, it is truly gold." He then took a little bit to present to the king. Seeing the color of the gold, the king revered him as never before, and asked how he came to obtain this. "It was due to giving to a pratyekabuddha." Hearing this, the king praised it as excellent, gave him further gifts, and appointed him a minister. In this way, O Venerable Ones, that Aruṭa was none other than myself. In that life, because I gave a little barnyard millet gruel to a pratyekabuddha, down through ninety-one kalpas since then, I have been reborn among devas and humans without lacking anything.'