But let be the past, Udayin, let be the future. I shall teach you the Dhamma: When this exists, that comes to be; with the arising of this, that arises. When this does not exist, that does not come to be; with the cessation of this, that ceases (Culaskuludayi Sutta, M.79:7).
The story of how the wanderer Sariputta encountered the Buddha’s disciple Assaji and gained his enlightenment is well-known. Sariputta and his friend Mogallana were seekers after “the Deathless” and had split up so as to increase their chances of encountering a bona fide teacher of the Way. When Sariputta met Assaji, one of the Buddha’s original five disciples, he was impressed by the peacefulness of his bearing and countenance and asked about his teacher and the dhamma he proclaimed. At first Assaji demurred, claiming to be but a beginner, but when pressed he at last responded with this now-famous summation of the Buddha’s teaching:
Of those things that arise from a cause,
The Tathāgata has told the cause,
And also what their cessation is:
This is the doctrine of the Great Recluse.
As it is written in the Vinaya: “Then, as he heard this Dhamma exposition, in Sariputta the wanderer there arose the dustless, stainless eye of Dhamma: ‘Whatever is subject to origination is also subject to cessation’” (Vinaya Mahavagga I:23.1-10). In that moment Sariputta became a stream-enterer.
Clearly, Dependent Arising (paticcasamuppāda)—of which the quatrain above is a brief formulation—is the fundamental insight upon which the framework of the Buddha’s teaching is built. As noted in an earlier post, the Second and Third Noble Truths are direct statements of it.
Now, much has been written about this teaching, a great deal of it wrong. However, as this is a blog and not a book, I am constrained by time and space and so will try to keep my comments to the point. The most common (mis)understanding of Dependent Arising is that it somehow explains rebirth via the “Three Lives Interpretation.” Readers unfamiliar with this interpretation from the Pali Commentaries should familiarize themselves with it before continuing. See here for the Wikipedia article, which is pretty good as summaries go. Bhikkhu Bodhi, an ardent proponent of this view, writes in its defense in volume one of his Samyutta Nikaya translation: The Connected Discourses of the Buddha, pp. 517ff.
Some points opposing this traditional interpretation are as follows:
- Dependent Arising has nothing to do with rebirth. One might even be an arhant and not be able to recollect past lives.
- “Precedence [of terms] in paticcasamuppada is structural, not temporal,” to quote Ven. Ñanavira.
- It therefore has nothing to do with causality, which is by definition a process in time.
- It is not the description of a process (necessarily temporal), but of a structure.
A recent, popular interpretation is that Dependent Arising teaches the “unity” and “interconnectedness of all things,” which seems to be what Mr. MacPherson thinks. Cf. “Right understanding…means to understand both cognitively and experientially that one is connected to all other people (dependent origination)”—from “The Eightfold Path Inside Christianity: Points 1 and 2”. I have no idea where this belief came from or who started it (though I suspect Thich Nhat Hanh may have something to do with it), but it has no basis in either the suttas or in the experience of vipassana meditation. Any interpretation of the Buddha’s teaching built upon this manner of thinking is built upon quicksand.
A few further points:
- In not a single sutta or Vinaya passage does the Buddha refer to past lives in connection with Dependent Arising.
- In no story of anyone’s awakening experience is their insight described as depending upon the remembrance of past lives, which is what the traditional interpretation implies. Cf. Bhikkhu Ñanananda in The Magic of the Mind: “The law of Dependent Arising is a Noble Norm (ariyo ñayo) which in all its twelve-linked completeness is well-seen and well-penetrated through wisdom (paññaya sudittho hoti suppatividdho ) even by a Stream-winner (sotapanna) who may not possess the knowledge of past lives” (p. 26, n. 1).
- No passage in the suttas asserts the “unity” of everything, the “interconnectedness” of creation, the “ground of being,” “cosmic oneness” or any other such substantialist doctrine. (In fact, in books on non-duality and mysticism in general, passages from the Pali Canon are most noticeable for their absence. This was one of the insights that caused me to start asking what it was about the Theravada that made it “feel” so different from the mystical philosophies—Mahayana Buddhism, Hinduism, Christian mysticism, etc—with which I was at the time more familiar.)
- Dependent Arising is solely concerned with the structure of conditioned consciousness, how it is (samudaya) and how it isn’t (nirodha).
- There are several formulations of Dependent Arising, differing in terms of the items listed, but all share the same structure of conditionality and dependence. This clearly indicates that the structural principle per se is what is important, and not the individual terms themselves. Assaji’s phrase is but a bare statement of this structure, as is the Buddha’s declaration to Udayin.
- The individual items (sankhara) in the series depend upon, condition, determine and support one another. Not one, not even avijja (=delusion, usually first in the chain), is unsupported. The structure of consciousness therefore stands and falls depending upon its supporting elements. This point is critical to understanding the nature of dukkha and nibbana.
Having said the above, the question ought naturally arise: Why did the Buddha emphasize tanha—“desire”—as the source of suffering? Why, even though the second noble truth is clearly the arising phase of paticcasamuppada, did he focus on that term, which is but one in the standard series of Dependent Arising?
The following quote from Ñanananda’s masterful little treatise, The Magic of the Mind, indicates an answer:
Selfhood which tries to sit pretty on that which is liable to disintegrate is itself subject to the inexorable law of impermanence. In the face of this predicament one craves, grasps and “becomes” yet another “thing”—which too yields to the same law of nature…
The process of becoming is thus shown to be perpetually going on within the mind of the samsaric individual who identifies himself with sense-data under the influence of the proliferating tendencies toward craving, conceits and views… Since…becoming in the psychological realm is necessarily followed by birth, decay-and-death, sorrow, lamentation, grief and despair in every specific instance of short-lived identification, an insight into the law of Dependent Arising provides one with the key to the entire gamut of samsaric experience. One comes to understand the cycle of samsaric life by discovering its epicycle in the very structure of living experience. He is now convinced of the fact that it is craving that plays the villain in the drama of samsaric existence, bringing about re-becoming by delighting “now-here-now-there” (pp.48-50).
What Ñanananda is saying is that craving (tanha) is the energizing force behind the constant identification with the phenomena (dhamma) of experience, and that this identification is in part a survival mechanism, a flight from inevitable destruction under the pressure of omnipresent impermanence. The flip side of desire, then, is fear—fear of loss, decay, death. Life is bound between the carrot and the stick, an endless flight and pursuit. We chase the pleasurable and flee the painful. (Cf. Ñanavira’s discussion of Joyce’s Ulysses.)
There is yet another reason why the Buddha focused on desire and defined it as the “cause” of suffering. The Buddha’s teaching, unlike most pre-modern philosophies, is phenomenological as opposed to substance-based or idealistic in character. Here, from the online Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, is a definition of phenomenology:
Phenomenology is the study of structures of consciousness as experienced from the first-person point of view. The central structure of an experience is its intentionality, its being directed toward something, as it is an experience of or about some object. An experience is directed toward an object by virtue of its content or meaning (which represents the object) together with appropriate enabling conditions (http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/phenomenology/. Accessed 7/4/2011).
A more succinct and accurate description of the Buddha’s general orientation could hardly be desired.
The Buddha, then, concerned himself not with abstract principles or explanations but with what human beings experience. He realized that in describing the human situation he had to start with the grosser facts, the inescapable bases of all lived experience, and if anything is fundamental to life it is desire. From the moment a baby is born (not to mention the manner of its conceiving!), it wants food, water, warmth, shelter, protection, nurturance, and then, later, status, recognition, acknowledgement, assurance, friendship, belonging, hope, and whatever else the person deems necessary to support his or her psychophysical being. (Cf. Maslow’s “hierarchy of needs.”) Our experience of life, therefore, and what we make of it, is defined by our definition of phenomena as desirable or not.
The implication of Dependent Arising, however, is that everything we hope for and hold to is radically vulnerable, i.e. impermanent. If we understand this fact, we realize that no matter what we take our lives to be, they inevitably fall apart—I am unstable, as are the things I identify myself with, both inwardly and outwardly. In demonstrating this truth, the teaching of Dependent Arising urges us to question and ultimately let go the desires and identifications that make up our selves.
[T]he Dhamma does not set out to explain, but to lead—it is opanayika [“onward leading”]. This means that the Dhamma is not seeking disinterested intellectual approval, but to provoke an effort of comprehension or insight leading to the abandonment of attavada [“self-view”] and eventually of asmimana [the “conceit” I am]. Its method is therefore necessarily indirect: we can only stop regarding this as “self” if we see that what this depends on is impermanent. Consider, for example, the Mahasudassana Sutta (D.17:2:16), where the Buddha describes in detail the rich endowments and possessions of King Mahasudassana, and then finishes:
See, Ananda, how all those formations (sankhara) have passed, have ceased, have altered. So impermanent, Ananda, are formations, that this, Ananda, is enough for weariness of all formations, enough for dispassion, enough for release.
This is not a simple statement that all those things, being impermanent by nature, are now no more; it is a lever to prize the notion of “selfhood” out of its firm socket. Those things were sankhara, they were things on which King Mahasudassana depended for his very identity. They determined his person as “King Mahasudassana,” and with their cessation the thought “I am King Mahasudassana” came to an end (Clearing the Path, pp. 108-9).
Lest the reader think this all just some grand philosophy, some heady, speculative pronouncement, I would like to remind you that these insights are born of direct, reflexive observation of the mind and its contents. Consider the following from Mahasi Sayadaw, where he describes the last moments before the attainment of nibbana, wherein the entire structure of dependently arisen consciousness suddenly ceases for the first time:
The meditator who wishes to realize Nibbana should repeatedly bring to mind, through the practice of noticing, every bodily and mental process that appears at any of the six sense doors. When he brings them to mind thus, his consciousness engaged in noticing—here called “bringing to mind”—will, until adaptation knowledge is reached, fall at every moment upon the (conditioned) bodily and mental formations called here “continuous occurrence,” because they go on occurring over and over again in an unbroken flow, like a river’s current. But in the last phase, instead of falling upon that continuous occurrence, consciousness passes beyond it and alights upon “non-occurrence,” which is the very opposite of the bodily and mental formations called here “occurrence.” In other words, it arrives at non-occurrence, that is to say, it reaches, as if it “alights upon,” cessation, which is the stilling of the formations (or conditioned phenomena). When the meditator, having already before practiced correctly and without deviation by way of the knowledge of arising and passing away and the other knowledges (or by way of the purification of conduct, of mind, of view, etc.), has in this manner arrived at non-occurrence (by the consciousness alighting upon it), he is said to have “realized Nibbana.” He is called one who has made Nibbana a direct experience and has actually seen it (The Progress of Insight, VI.12).
It cannot be stated too emphatically that the above does not describe a “mystical experience,” an experience of “oneness,” “nonduality” or “cosmic consciousness,” all of which are mentally constructed states, most being confined to the stage known as “arising-and-passing-away” (udayabbaya-ñana)—fourth of the sixteen “insight knowledges.” The Buddha’s teaching is not mystical in character and any attempt to construe it as such will lead inevitably to distortion and confusion.