Uddalaka Jataka

While staying at Jetavana, the Buddha spoke about a dishonest man. Though he had dedicated himself to the faith that leads to freedom, this man still practised deceit to gain the necessities of life. The monks brought his faults to light as they talked in the Hall of Truth. They marvelled that he could live in deceit after joining so great a teaching. The Buddha came in, asked what they were discussing, and heard it. He said that this was not the first time the man had been deceitful, and he told a story of the past. Jataka No. 487 of the Pali Canon records the tale, and this retelling follows that text.

Once, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was his chaplain, a wise and learned man. One day he went to his park and met a woman there. She later told him she was expecting a child and said she would give the child its grandfather's name. The chaplain thought that a noble family's name should not pass to such a child. He said instead that the tree in front of them was called Uddala, and that the child should be named Uddalaka because he was conceived there. He gave her a seal-ring and told her that if the child were a girl, the ring would help bring her up. If it were a boy, she was to bring him to the chaplain when he was grown.

In due time she bore a son and named him Uddalaka. When he grew up he asked who his father was. His mother told him it was the chaplain. The boy said that in that case he would learn the holy books. He took the ring from his mother, together with a teacher's fee, and went to Takkasila to study under a world-renowned teacher. While studying, he saw a company of ascetics and thought that they must have perfect knowledge. He renounced the world to learn from them and served them humbly, asking them to teach him their wisdom.

The ascetics taught him all they knew, and among the whole five hundred none surpassed him. He was the wisest of them all, and they chose him as their teacher. Then he asked why they always lived in the woods on fruits and roots and never went among people. They answered that people were glad to give them gifts but made them show gratitude by teaching the law and asking questions, and they feared this. Uddalaka told them to have no fear. Let a universal monarch ask the questions, he said, and leave him to settle them.

He went on pilgrimage with them, seeking alms, and at last came to Benares and stayed in the king's park. The next day they begged in a village before the city gate, and the people gave generously. On the following day they went through the city, and the gifts grew. Uddalaka gave thanks, blessed the givers, and answered their questions. The people were pleased and gave all that the ascetics needed. The whole city buzzed with news of a wise teacher, and the king heard of it. He said he would visit them that day.

A man told Uddalaka that the king was coming. He called the company together and said, "Win favour in the eyes of the great for one day, it is enough for a lifetime." He gave his orders. Some were to hang in the swinging penance (a self-mortification practice of swaying suspended from a frame). Some were to squat on the ground, some lie on beds of spikes, and some practise the penance of five fires. Others were to stand in the water or recite holy verses here and there. He himself sat with eight or ten wise men on a prepared seat, with a fine volume beside him on a beautiful stand. The king arrived with his chaplain and a great retinue and was pleased, thinking they had no fear of evil states hereafter.

The king spoke to the chaplain in verse. With unwashed teeth, goatskin garb, and matted hair, he said, they muttered holy words in peace and surely knew the Truth. The chaplain replied that a learned sage may do ill deeds and that a thousand Vedas cannot bring safety without just works. Uddalaka then objected that, if so, the Vedas must be useless. The chaplain answered that they are not useless. Study of the Vedas brings fame, but right conduct brings bliss. Uddalaka judged that he should not quarrel with this man. If he told him he was his son, the man must love him, and so he did.

Uddalaka declared himself the chaplain's son. The chaplain asked for the token he had left, and Uddalaka gave him the ring. The chaplain knew it and said that he was surely a brahmin, but asked whether he knew a brahmin's duties. They exchanged verses. Uddalaka described worship with fire, water, and the sacrificial pole. The chaplain said that sprinkling does not make a brahmin pure, and went on: a true brahmin has no field, goods, wish, or kin, is careless of life, and has no lusts or evil ways. Uddalaka pressed him on caste. People of every caste, from the noble Khattiya and brahmin down to the vessa, sudda, candala, and pukkusa, can all be compassionate and win Nirvana, he said, so who among the saints is better? The chaplain agreed that none is. As canvas dyed in many colours makes a pavilion whose shade is one, so when people are purified the good see only saints and do not ask their birth. Uddalaka could not answer and sat silent.

The chaplain told the king that all these ascetics were knaves and that all India would be ruined through knavery. He asked the king to persuade Uddalaka to leave his sham asceticism and serve as chaplain under him. The rest were to give up their asceticism, take shield and spear, and enter the king's service. The king agreed, and they all took service with him.

The Buddha ended the discourse and said that this was not the first time the man had been a knave. He identified the births. The dishonest Brother was Uddalaka, Ananda was the king, and the Buddha was the chaplain.

The story does not condemn the ascetic life or the study of sacred texts. It asks what lies behind them. A man can wear the right clothes, hold the right posture, and recite the right verses and still be what the chaplain called a knave. In the end the debate turned not on rank or ritual but on conduct. The chaplain also showed a father's care. He could have disgraced his son, but he offered him a post, and he gave the others honest work. A teaching that asks for real virtue also leaves a door open to change.