Visākhā The Buddha’s Chief Patroness | සිරි යසෝදරා මහ සෑය

Visākhā

The Buddha's Chief Patroness

In the city of Bhaddiya in the country of Aṅga there lived a rich man named Meṇḍaka. In an earlier life, in a time of famine, he had given the last provisions belonging to him and his family to a paccekabuddha, a privately enlightened one. For this sacrifice, this self-conquest, he obtained supernatural merit in his present life: the provisions in his house were never exhausted, however much he consumed them or gave them away, and his fields carried a rich harvest without interruption.

It was not Meṇḍaka alone who possessed supernatural merit. His wife, his son and daughter-in-law, and his slave had all shared in the same past deed of self-abnegation in that earlier life, and as a result they had all acquired miraculous powers in their present life. Their shared participation in that noble deed had become a bond uniting them in successive existences as they transmigrated through the round of rebirths. The son Dhanañjaya and his wife Sumanādevī had a young daughter named Visākhā, who was also a repository of past merits. In a previous life, one hundred thousand aeons earlier, she had formed the aspiration at the feet of the Buddha Padumuttara to become the chief patroness of a Buddha and his Sangha. To fulfil this goal she had performed virtuous deeds under many previous Buddhas, accumulating the spiritual perfections required of a great disciple. Now that merit had matured and was about to yield its fruit.

One day, when Visākhā was seven years of age, the Buddha arrived in the city of Bhaddiya accompanied by a great retinue of monks. When Meṇḍaka heard that the Awakened One had come, he sent for his beloved granddaughter and said to her:

“Dear girl, this is a happy day for us, for the Teacher has arrived in our own city. Summon all your maid- servants and go out to meet him.”

Visākhā did as she was told. She approached the Blessed One, paid homage to him, and stood to one side. The Buddha then taught the Dhamma to her and her entourage, and at the end of the discourse Visākhā and all her five hundred maid-servants were established in the fruit of stream-entry. Meṇḍaka too listened to the Dhamma—along with his wife, his son and daughter in-law, and his slave—and all attained to stream-entry.

At that time the country of Aṅga belonged to the kingdom of Magadha, which was ruled by the devout King Bimbisāra. When King Pasenadi of Kosala heard that five people of supernatural merit were living in the neighbouring kingdom, he requested King Bimbisāra, his friend and brother-in-law, to send one of these people to his own country, the state of Kosala, so that his subjects would have the opportunity to witness a shining example of virtue. Thus Meṇḍaka’s son Dhanañjaya, along with his family, moved to the country of Kosala and built a beautiful city named Sāketa near the capital Sāvatthī. There Visākhā grew up in the midst of this saintly family where the Blessed One was highly venerated and his monks were frequently invited to receive alms and to preach the noble Dhamma.

In Sāvatthī, the capital of Kosala, there lived a wealthy householder named Migāra, who had a son named Puṇṇavaddhana. When the son reached manhood his parents urged him to marry, but Puṇṇavaddhana insisted that he would take as wife only a girl who possessed the “five beauties”—beauty of hair, beauty of flesh, beauty of teeth, beauty of skin, and beauty of youth. His parents employed a team of brahmins to explore the entire country looking for a girl who could meet their son’s stringent requirements. The brahmins travelled to all the great towns and cities, searching diligently, but they could not find a single maiden endowed with all five kinds of beauty. On their return journey, when they reached Sāketa, they saw Visākhā, who at that time was fifteen or sixteen years of age. They were struck immediately by her beautiful features, which measured up to four of their young lord’s expectations; the one feature they could not see was her teeth. To obtain a glimpse of this, they decided to engage her in conversation.

When they spotted her, Visākhā and her companions were on their way to the river to bathe. Just then a thunderstorm burst. The other girls ran away hastily to avoid getting wet, but Visākhā continued to walk with great dignity and poise. The brahmins approached her and asked why she did not run for shelter like the others. She answered:

“Just as it is unbecoming for a king to run from the rain like an ordinary man, so it is unbecoming for a young girl of good family to run from the rain. Besides, as an unmarried girl I have to take care of myself, as if tending merchandise offered for sale, so that I may not suffer damage and become useless.”

The brahmins were so impressed by their conversation with this girl that they went to her father and asked for her hand in marriage for their lord’s son. Dhanañjaya agreed to the proposal, and soon afterwards the householder Migāra with his son Puṇṇavaddhana and his whole family went to fetch the bride. When King Pasenadi of Kosala heard of it, he joined the group together with his entire court.

All these people were entertained joyfully and lavishly in Sāketa by the bride’s father. Meanwhile goldsmiths were manufacturing the jewellery for the bride. After three months the jewellery was not yet completed, but the firewood was used up cooking meals for so many guests. For two weeks old houses were demolished and the wood used for cooking. The jewellery was still not complete. The people of Sāketa then took clothes out of their wardrobes, soaked them with oil, and used them to kindle the cooking fires. After another two weeks the jewellery was complete, and the whole splendid assembly began the return journey.

Dhanañjaya gave to his daughter as dowry many hundreds of carts laden with silk, gold, silver, and servant girls. He also gave her a herd of cattle so large that all the roads in the city were choked. When these cattle left the stables, the remaining cows also tore their ropes and joined the travelling herd. People from fourteen villages belonging to Dhanañjaya wanted to follow Visākhā to her new home, so much was she liked everywhere. Such abundant wealth and such a large retinue Visākhā had obtained through acts of merit in many earlier lives, since she had already served the Buddha Padumuttara countless aeons ago.

When Visākhā took leave of her father, he gave her ten maxims of advice in metaphorical form and admonished her always to keep the virtue of generosity in high regard. He also appointed eight confidential advisers to examine carefully any complaint that might be raised against his daughter.

The ten maxims her father gave her are as follows:

(1) do not carry outside the indoor fire,

(2) do not take inside the outdoor fire,

(3) give only to those that give,

(4) do not give to those that do not give,

(5) give both to those that give and do not give,

(6) sit happily,

(7) eat happily,

(8) sleep happily,

(9) tend the fire, and

(10) honour the household divinities.

Their implied meaning is as follows:

(1) the wife should not speak ill of her husband and parents-in-law to others; neither should their shortcomings or household quarrels be reported elsewhere;

(2) a wife should not listen to the reports and stories of other households;

(3) things should be lent only to those who return them;

(4) no article should be lent to those who do not return them;

(5) poor relatives and friends should be helped even if they do not repay;

(6) a wife should sit in a becoming way; on seeing her parents-in-law or her husband, she should keep standing and not sit;

(7) before partaking of her meals, a wife should first see that her parents-in-law and husband are served, and should also see that her servants are well cared for;

(8) before going to bed at night, a wife should see that all doors are closed, that the furniture is safe, that the servants have performed their duties, and that her parents-in-law have retired; as a rule a wife should rise early in the morning and, unless unwell, she should not sleep during the day;

(9) parents-in-law and husband should be regarded as fire; and one should deal carefully with them as one would with fire; and

(10) parents-in-law and husband should be regarded as divinities.

On the day she arrived in Sāvatthī, the city of her husband,

Visākhā was showered with various presents sent from people of all ranks according to their status and ability. But so kind and generous was she that she distributed them among the donors themselves with a kind message and treated all the residents of the city as her own kinsfolk. By this noble gesture she endeared herself to all the people of the city on the very first day that she came to her husband’s home.

There is an incident in her life which reveals her dutiful kindness even toward animals. Hearing that her well-bred mare had given birth to a foal in the middle of the night, immediately Visākhā rushed to the stable with her female attendants bearing torches in their hands, and attended to all the mare’s needs with the greatest care and attention.

Her father-in-law, Migāra, being a staunch follower of an order of naked ascetics, never invited the Buddha to his house for alms, even though the Master frequently dwelt at a nearby monastery. Shortly after the wedding, to obtain merit, he invited a large company of naked ascetics for alms, whom he treated with deep respect and presented with fine foods. On their arrival he told his new daughter-in-law,

“Come, dear, and render homage to the arahants.”

Visākhā was delighted to hear the word “arahants” and hurried to the hall, expecting to see Buddhist monks. But she saw only naked ascetics devoid of all modesty, a sight that was unbearable for such a refined lady. She reproached her father-in-law and retired to her quarters without entertaining them. The naked ascetics took offence and reproached the millionaire for having brought a female follower of the ascetic Gotama to his house. They asked him to expel her from the house immediately, but Migāra, with much effort, managed to pacify them.

One day, while Migāra was eating rich rice porridge mixed with honey in a golden bowl, a Buddhist monk came to the house in quest of alms. Visākhā was fanning her father-in-law. She stepped to the side so that Migāra could see the monk and give him alms; but though the monk was in full view, Migāra pretended not to notice him and continued with his meal. So Visākhā told the monk,

“Pass on, venerable sir. My father-in-law is eating stale food.”

Migāra was furious at this remark and wanted to throw his daughter-in-law out of the house, but the servants—who had been brought to the house by Visākhā herself—refused to carry out his orders. The eight advisors, to whom Migāra’s complaint against Visākhā was put, concluded on examination of the matter that Visākhā was blameless.

After this incident Visākhā informed her husband’s family that she would be returning to her parents. Migāra asked her forgiveness, and Visākhā consented to stay, on the condition that she would be permitted to invite the Buddha and the order of monks to the house. Reluctantly he gave his consent, but following the advice of the naked ascetics he did not serve the monks personally. Just to be polite, he appeared shortly after the meal and then concealed himself behind a curtain while listening to the Buddha’s sermon. However, the Buddha’s words moved him so deeply that, while sitting there hidden from view, he penetrated the ultimate truth about the nature of existence and attained to stream-entry. Filled with overwhelming gratitude he told Visākhā that from now onwards he would respect her like his own mother, and accordingly he called her Migāra-mātā, which means “Mother of Migāra.” He then went up to the Blessed One, prostrated at his feet, and declared his allegiance to the Triple Gem. Visākhā invited the Buddha for the next day’s meal, and on that occasion her mother-in-law too attained stream-entry. From that time on the entire family became staunch supporters of the Enlightened One and his community of monks and nuns.

In course of time Visākhā gave birth to no fewer than ten sons and ten daughters, and all of them had the same number of descendants down to the fourth generation. Visākhā herself lived to the remarkably high age of 120, but (according to the commentaries) all her life she retained the appearance of a sixteen-year-old girl. This was the result of her merit and her enjoyment of the Dhamma, which filled her completely throughout the day. It is also said that she was as strong as an elephant and could work untiringly looking after her large family. She found time to feed the monks every day, to visit the monasteries, and to ensure that none of the monks and nuns lacked food, clothing, shelter, bedding, and medicines. Above all she still found time to listen to the Teaching of the Blessed One again and again. Therefore the Blessed One said about her:

“Visākhā stands foremost among my women lay supporters who serve as supporters of the Order” (AN 1, chap. 14).

One illustration of this is specifically mentioned in the Vinaya Piiaka. One day Visākhā left her valuable bridal jewellery in the hall after listening to the Dhamma, and it was taken into custody by Ānanda (Vin IV 161). She interpreted this lapse as an invitation to do good and decided not to wear this jewellery again, but to sell it and to give alms to the Order from the money obtained. But in the whole city of Sāvatthī there was no one who could buy this very precious jewellery. So she bought it herself out of her other property, and with the proceeds of the sale she built a large monastic establishment in the Eastern Park (Pubbārāma) before the city gate of Sāvatthī. It was called the Mansion of Migāra’s Mother (Migāramātu-pāsāda). It is often mentioned in the introduction to many Buddhist suttas, for the Blessed One frequently stayed there during the last twenty years of his life, just as he did in the Jetavana monastery built by his other great patron, Anāthapiṇḍika.

In the Pāli Canon several episodes from the life of Visākhā are reported. Once some noble disciples requested her to take their wives to see the Blessed One. She did so, but some of the women were drunk and behaved improperly. She asked the Blessed One how the evil of intoxicating drink originated, and he told her the Kumbha Jātaka (J 512): In the forest a man had found the juice of fermented fruits in the hollow of a tree, tasted it, and felt wonderfully elated. Again and again he provided himself with this enjoyment, so that he soon became a drunkard; he also enticed many of his friends and relatives to drinking, and they in turn spread the bad habit to others. The whole of India would soon have become addicted to liquor if Sakka, king of the devas, had not interceded. He appeared to the humans and explained to them the evil consequences of intoxicating drink.

On another occasion, when Visākhā sent some valuable gifts to her relatives in the country of Aṅga, the guards at the border wanted to levy a very high custom’s duty on them. She reported this to the king, but he left the matter unattended to, being occupied with affairs of state. Visākhā went to the Blessed One and asked his advice. The Buddha spoke only a few short verses, which relieved her of her worry and anger:

Painful is all subjection; Blissful is complete control;

People are troubled in common concerns, Hard to escape are the bonds.

(Ud 2:9)

Again, another time she went to see the Blessed One in the middle of the day, in spite of the hot sun: her favourite grandchild Dattā, who had always helped her to distribute alms, had suddenly passed away. When she told the Blessed One of her sorrow, he asked whether she wanted to have as many children and grandchildren as there were people in the city of Sāvatthī. She joyfully agreed.

“But how many people die in Sāvatthī every day?” asked the Blessed One.

She considered and said: “O Lord, in Sāvatthī ten or nine people, five or three, or two people, but at least one person is dying every day. Sāvatthī is never free from dying.”

Being asked whether in this case she would ever be without sorrow, she had to admit that she would feel sorrow every single day. The Blessed One said:

“Those who have one hundred loved ones have one hundred sorrows, those who have ninety…five…four…three…two…one loved ones have one sorrow, but those who have no loved ones have no sorrow. These alone, I say, are without sorrow, without suffering, without desperation” (Ud 8:8).

In three suttas in the Aṅguttara Nikāya the Blessed One answers questions put by Visākhā. On a full-moon day she came to her monastery and greeted the Buddha. Asked why she had come, she said she was keeping the Uposatha day, the day devoted entirely to learning and practicing the Dhamma. On this unspoken request for instruction the Blessed One gave a lengthy discourse (AN 3:70) on the two wrong ways and one right way to keep the Uposatha. The Uposatha of cowherds and ordinary householders consists of thinking about the enjoyments of tomorrow while observing ascetic rules today. The Uposatha of the Jains consists of showing loving-kindness to some people, while at the same time boasting of one’s own freedom from sense enjoyments. The true Uposatha day of the noble ones consists of observance of the Eight Precepts and reflection on the greatness of the Blessed One, the Dhamma, and the Sangha, and on the devas and one’s own virtues. The Buddha went on to describe the happy and carefree life of the gods up to the Brahma-world, concluding: “Miserable is the glory of humans compared to such heavenly bliss.”

Another question of Visākhā concerned the qualities in a woman that lead to her rebirth in the company of “the graceful gods” (manāpakāyikā devā). In answer the Blessed One stated eight conditions (AN 8:47):

(1) she is always an agreeable and pleasant companion to her husband, irrespective of his own conduct;

(2) she honours and looks after the people who are dear to her husband—his parents and the wise men worshiped by him;

(3) in her housework she is industrious and careful;

(4) she supervises the servants well and cares for them properly, considers their health and their food;

(5) she guards her husband’s property and does not dissipate his wealth;

(6) she takes refuge in the Blessed One, the Dhamma, and the Sangha;

(7) she observes the Five Precepts; and

(8) she delights in generosity and renunciation.

A third question was: Which qualities in a woman would enable her to conquer this world and the next? The Blessed One answered: She conquers this world by industry, care for her servants, love for her husband, and guarding his property; the other world, by faith, virtue, generosity, and wisdom (AN 8:49).

The promulgation of a number of rules for the Sangha is connected with Visākhā. Thus, for instance, one of her nephews had decided to join the Order as a monk. But when he requested acceptance into the Order in Sāvatthī the monks there told him that they had agreed among themselves not to ordain novices during the three months’ rains retreat, and therefore he should wait until the rains retreat was over. But when the rainy season had passed he had given up the idea of becoming a monk. When Visākhā came to know of this, she went to the Blessed One and said:

“The Dhamma is timeless, there is no time when the Dhamma cannot be followed.”

The Blessed One prescribed that ordination should not be refused during the rainy season (Vin I 153).

Once when the Blessed One and his monks were guests of Visākhā she requested him to grant her eight boons (Vin I 290–94). He replied that the Perfect One had gone beyond the fulfilling of boons. She said that she did not wish for something blameworthy but for allowable things. The Blessed One let her mention her wishes. She requested to give gifts to the Order in eight ways:

(1) robes for the rains,

(2) food for arriving monks, (3) food for monks setting out on a journey,

(4) medicine for sick monks,

(5) food for sick monks,

(6) food for monks tending the sick,

(7) regular distribution of rice gruel, and

(8) bathing robes for nuns to bathe in the river.

The Blessed One then asked her for which special reasons she made these requests. She explained in detail:

(1) some monks had been forced to walk half-naked in the streaming rain to preserve their robes and thus were mistaken for naked ascetics; therefore she wanted to give rains’ robes;

(2) newly arrived monks in Sāvatthī, who did not know the town yet, had difficulty obtaining food, and had to walk for alms despite their weariness from their journey; therefore all arriving monks should be sent to her to receive food;

(3) in the same way she would like to give a good meal to monks setting out on a journey;

(4) and (5) sick monks have to suffer much, and may even die, if they lack suitable food and medicine; therefore she would like to cook food for the sick;

(6) a monk tending the sick had to go on alms round for himself as well as for the sick monk; he could easily be late, and both would not be able to eat after noon because the meal time had already passed; therefore she wanted to provide food for monks tending the sick;

(7) she had also heard how many benefits were connected with rice gruel in the early morning, so she would like to provide gruel to the Order; and

(8) it was unsuitable for nuns to bathe without clothes, as had happened recently; therefore she would like to provide them with a suitable covering.

After Visākhā had thus explained in detail the external benefits of her wishes, the Blessed One asked her what inner benefits she expected. Her answer shows how subtly and profoundly she had grasped the distinction between outward acts of virtue and inner mental training. She replied:

“As to that, Lord, bhikkhus who have spent the rains in different regions will come to Sāvatthī to see the Blessed One. They will approach the Blessed One and question him thus: “Lord, the bhikkhu named so-and-so has died. What is his destination? What is his rebirth?” The Blessed One will tell how such a one had reached the fruit of stream-entry, or of once-returning, or of non-returning, or of arahantship. I shall approach the bhikkhus and ask:

“Lords, did that bhikkhu ever come to Sāvatthī?” If they answer that he did, I shall conclude that surely a rains cloth will have been used by that bhikkhu or visitors’ food or food for one going on a journey or food for the sick or food for a sick-nurse or medicine for the sick or the morning rice-gruel. When I remember it, I shall be glad. When I am glad, I shall be happy. When my mind is happy, my body will be tranquil. When my body is tranquil, I shall feel pleasure. When I feel pleasure, my mind will become concentrated. That will bring the development of the spiritual faculties in me and also the development of the spiritual powers and the enlightenment factors.

This, Lord, is the benefit I foresee for myself in asking the eight boons of the Perfect One.”

“Good, good, Visākhā!” the Enlightened One replied. “It is good that you have asked the Perfect One for the eight boons foreseeing these benefits. I grant you the eight boons.”

So lived Visākhā, “Migāra’s Mother,” a model female lay devotee, endowed with unwavering confidence in the Triple Gem, securely settled in the fruit of stream-entry, bound for a happy rebirth and, in the end, for final deliverance from suffering.

(From the book: GREAT DISCIPLES OF THE BUDDHA – NYANAPONIKA THERA AND HELMUTH HECKER , Edited with an Introduction by BHIKKHU BODHI)